Chapter Eleven - Four Years

Lussuria came sauntering in to the salon three weeks after Harry had left Headquarters. To his surprise, Harry had been welcomed back with open arms when he had returned to work after his eventful unscheduled week off. Alberto had assumed that the Varia had killed him and dragged his corpse off somewhere, so everyone had reacted as though he was ghost. It had been kind of amusing, although exasperating after the third person had poked him to make sure that he was real.

He had quickly settled back into the rhythm of hair-dressing, and after a week his co-workers had stopped sneaking glances at him as though they were afraid he might vanish again or something. Of course, Lussuria had to turn all that calm on its head.

"Are you free, Harry-chan?" the martial artist chirped. "This poor mess desperately needs some attention." He gestured to his hair, which looked slightly singed.

Harry grinned and waved him over, smiling reassuringly at the receptionist who had been trying to convince him that appointments were necessary, without irritating the intimidating customer. Luckily, the customer who had booked the time slot had called that morning to cancel, so Harry was free.

"So how's the family?" Harry asked, once he had Lussuria settled in the chair.

"We're all fine, dear. Bel's decided to fully embrace the teenage experience, and Squ-Squ's just about to run him through. Mammon is actually offering a pay rise to anyone willing to work with him, can you imagine?"

Harry had an awful feeling that Bel's problems were because of him. He truly hadn't wanted to hurt the young Prince, and had been wracking his brain to try and find a way to put things right between them. He also had the feeling that Lussuria was trying to guilt him into returning, which wasn't happening.

"Anything else interesting happening?"

"The Old Man lost his second son the other day. Poor Massimo didn't want to be part of the Family business, but that didn't keep him safe from competitors." Lussuria said in a conspiratorial whisper. Harry could hear exactly how sad Lussuria was about the man's death.

"Really?"

"Oh, the official story is a boating accident. I'm sure that I don't know why anyone would go boating with weights attached to their legs, but to each their own, I suppose."

"So there's only one person available to take over the company now?" Harry had heard the story of how the Boss of the Varia, Xanxus, had tried a coup and failed. Because he was Nono's son, he had been imprisoned somehow instead of executed. Nono's oldest son, Enrico, had been killed three days after the attempted coup.

"That's right. Only Federico, the golden boy. It would be a shame if anything were to happen to him. The Old Man would probably be forced to recall Boss!" Lussuria sounded gleeful, and Harry very carefully did not entertain the suspicion that the accidents befalling the heirs might not be caused by enemies outside of the Family.

It wasn't like a group of the best assassins in the world, fanatically loyal to their leader, would actually kill people to help their Boss's position.

Harry waved a cheerful goodbye to the flamboyant assassin, once his hair was cut and re-dyed a bright green. Yes, keeping favour with this group was probably a very good idea.

Squalo dragged a squirming Bel to the front door of Harry's house. Luckily, Harry had seen them approaching and was waiting at the door for them, so Squalo didn't have to let go of Bel to knock. Once Bel had been unceremoniously dumped on a sofa, where he sat scowling with knives whirling between his fingers, Squalo gestured wildly with his sword.

"Voi! I'm sick of his moping"

"The Prince has not been moping!" Moping was for peasants.

"You haven't been eating properly, you do homework without complaining, and you've taken more bloody missions that the rest of us combined. Mammon's been bitching that you've had to replace those stripper boots of yours six times in the past four months. You're sulking, brat."

"If you want to spend the day here to refresh yourself, Bel, we'd love to have you. Teddy's been eager to meet you," Harry offered. He had been told that Bel was 'sulking', but he hadn't known it was so bad. They had only known each other for a week before Harry had left!

Bel seemed to be considering the offer when Teddy came rushing into the room, covered in red paint. He caught sight of the strangers in the room and ran to hide behind Harry's legs.

"Who are you?" he asked. Teddy wasn't used to seeing strangers in the house.

"These are the friends I stayed with in Italy, Teddy. The one with the sword is Squalo, and the boy with the crown is Prince Belphegor."

Teddy grinned. "Wow! Are you a real Prince?"

"Of course I am!" Bel huffed, offended. Stupid child. Harry had known immediately that he was a real Prince. Obviously the boy wasn't as smart as his Godfather.

"Wow!" Teddy repeated.

For a moment Harry was hopeful. Bel was interacting with Teddy, and Teddy was clearly taken with Bel. Of course, then it all had to go to Hell. Teddy did what he always did when he met a new person – shift his features to match theirs. He couldn't mimic the tiara, and his hair was a little straighter than Bel's, but otherwise it was a carbon copy in miniature. It was only the slightest flicker of movement, a change in the swirling rhythm of Bel's knives that had Harry pulling Teddy out of the path of the deadly projectiles. They buried themselves in the wall behind where Teddy had been a moment ago.

"Change it back!" Bel was trembling with rage and grief and a whole swirling mess of emotions he didn't want to touch. Was it a gift of Harry's family, to make him feel things he couldn't understand? The child looked like he was about to cry. So much like Rasiel had looked, when Bel had skinned his cat. So much like Bel himself had looked, when Rasiel had stomped on Ferret until it was nothing but a bloody, lumpy mess. He had killed Rasiel the next day. Eating worms was nothing. He should have known better than to touch Ferret.

He didn't want to see his brother again. Didn't want to see the child he had been, back when they could still play together sometimes. Before Mother had poured so much poison into their ears that it spilled out of their mouths, so that every conversation became a vicious argument.

He felt something snap in his arm. It wasn't until he heard the ring of his knives on tiled floor – because he would know the sound of his knives anywhere – that he realised he had dropped them. Which meant he had been holding them. When had he drawn more?

He looked around as the world came into focus again. The child had black hair again. Rasiel was gone. Squalo was holding his arm, twisting it at an impossible angle. Protecting the civilians, or protecting the alliance? Either way. It hurt, burning and throbbing. Normally when he felt pain like this, there was bloodlust to wash it away. Now there was only sick, awful emptiness.

Harry moved forward slowly, and Bel watched with dull eyes. Rasiel's eyes. He hated that he saw the world out of Rasiel's eyes. He hid them away so that he wouldn't ever have to catch a glimpse of them in a mirror. Harry drew his wand, and Bel couldn't find it in himself to care. The last time Harry had drawn a wand on him, he had been pinned to a wall, but he couldn't find fear inside himself anymore. Rasiel had hollowed him out. He wanted Boss.

He twisted round as soon as Squalo let go of his arm. He ignored Harry tapping it with his wand and muttering, he barely paid attention to the pain receding. He buried his head in Squalo's chest and sobbed. Boss could have kept him safe from Rasiel, but Boss wasn't here. Captain would have to do. He wanted Boss.

Mammon hated taking time out of her day for things like this, but it was just too delicate to trust to a subordinate. When the Vongola Boss gave you a message to pass on, you passed it on personally. Levi had taught her the mistake of delegating anything when it came to Harry Potter. In the past two years, they hadn't had any issues with their Wizarding informant, and she didn't want that to change. Which it would, if Nono had gone with his first idea and sent one of his idiots round to manipulate of threaten Harry.

She had called ahead to prevent wasting time, and so she was able to get to the reason she was taking time out of her day after only the barest of polite greetings and tea.

"Vongola Nono would like it if you would consider becoming the official ambassador between the Mafia and the Magical world."

Potter snorted his tea out of his nose and choked. After half a minute, once he was breathing normally again, he waved his hand and cleaned the mess up. "How much would it cost for you to help me to word a reply that conveys the sentiment of 'Hell no, not happening, you senile old fart', without actually causing offence?"

"Twenty-five Galleons."

"Not a chance. Five."

"This is an official response with potentially far-reaching consequences. Seventeen." She did love haggling. No one at the Varia bothered any more.

"Ten. And I'll cook dinner." That was too tempting an offer to pass up.

"I want a vegetable stir fry." She wasn't going to refuse a chance to eat something other than the parade of meat dishes Levi and Squalo insisted on having in honour of the Boss.

"Deal. I'll start cooking, you start writing."

Mammon had fun writing up Harry's response to Nono. Trying to make it sound like it was written by him, but not actually giving offence, was a challenge. She put it aside once the food was prepared, taken aback by the glass of strawberry milk that came with it. She had drunk it once in his presence while she was at the mansion, and he must have remembered. Even Lussuria would comment on the 'baby' drink she preferred, despite the martial artist's own preference for ridiculously sweet cocktails and fruit smoothies. Potter had just served the drink as though it was perfectly normal. She thought she could see why Bel was so taken with him.

After dinner, she settled down to write the letter properly, charging Potter every time he made a ridiculous request like 'can you fit the word 'coot' in there somewhere? I love that word' and 'imply as much as you can that I think he's lost his marbles without actually saying it'. By the end of the evening, she had made a tidy profit, had a free meal, and enjoyed some amusing conversation. She loved days like that.

"By the way," Harry called just as she was preparing to leave, "I found this in the library. I thought you might find it interesting."

He handed her a leather-bound book. On the inside page, the title read 'Harnessing the Energy of the Rainbow Within'. A flick through revealed diagrams depicting wave energy, Dying Will Flames, the properties of the various Flames, and other things that the Mafia were still trying to explore. The book was priceless. She stared at him in shock.

"It's not really my cup of tea, but I thought you might like it. Would you ask Bel if he's free this weekend? Teddy's been asking for him." With that, Harry waved a cheerful goodbye and moved into the living room, leaving her to float out of the door holding her new treasure.

Mammon hated dealing with Potter. She always left more confused than when she entered, no matter how much she learned. What kind of man haggled over a handful of Galleons and handed over a book that a Mafioso would kill his own Family for?

Harry watched as Bel helped Teddy mix the cake batter. They were so adorable together. At first, Bel had resented Teddy and the attention that Harry had paid him. Luckily, Bel's breakdown the first time they met hadn't dimmed Teddy's hero-worship in the slightest, and Bel thrived under the constant and unconditional adoration of the boy, who he had quickly named his 'kouhai'. Japanese hadn't been one of Bel's seven languages that he had entered the Varia with, but rumours of another heir surfacing in Japan had made Squalo insist that all his members be fluent. Bel had grumbled but obliged.

Harry hadn't thought that Bel would return after the disastrous first attempt that Squalo had made to bring him round. It had been a shock to see Bel arrive in his salon without a Varia escort two months later, to demand that Harry neaten his hair. The conversation had been awkward but encouraging, and since then Bel had visited Harry, either at his house or the salon, at least once every two months, to Teddy's delight.

Which led to cake day. Every Saturday, Harry made cake with Teddy. Whenever Bel visited on a Saturday, he and Teddy would make one cake, while Harry would make another, and Andromeda judged whose was best. Bel was a surprisingly good baker – the peasants just couldn't get it right, and after all, he was a Prince – and Teddy behaved far better for him than he would for Harry, so they actually won more often than not.

Bel's phone rang as he was weighing out the chocolate chips.

"Ushishishi!" Harry still hadn't worked out what was so funny that Bel had to giggle at it. By now he just accepted it as one of Bel's ticks. "Could you mix these in for me, Kouhai?"

Teddy nodded seriously and poured the chocolate chips into the chocolate cake mix. Harry came over to hold the bowl for him while Bel took the call.

"What is it? I'm…What?...You're sure?...I'll be there!" Bel's tone moved from annoyance to incredulity to joy as he hung up the phone.

He almost ran over to the sink, washing his hands quickly before dashing for the door, ruffling Teddy's hair on the way out.

"I have to go. I might not be in touch for a while. Nono is waking Boss up, Squalo says it's really happening, I need to be back in Italy. Boss will have plans, we'll all be busy for a while, I'll call when I can."

"But Bel-nii," Teddy had picked up little bits of various languages from Bel, and fallen in love with Japanese forms of address.

"Sorry, Kouhai. Make a Princely cake for me!" With a laugh and a wave Bel dashed out the door.

As Harry reassured a pouting Teddy that he hadn't done anything wrong, and Bel would be back when he wasn't so busy, he wondered grimly about how this would upset the delicate status quo he had spent the last four years establishing.

AN - fingers crossed, Xanxus is in the next chapter!