Thank you all for the amazing feedback! I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

I was thinking of writing a separate story with all the previous chapters not written in Harry's prospective from his and perhaps add some others because it would be too messy to add in here. What do you guys think?

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Suicide Squad or Harry Potter.

Not Allowed

Harley coughs, feeling shattered glass beneath her palms as she struggled to get up. A loud, piercing ringing in her ears as she struggled to remember what had happened.

Then she remembers.

She had convinced Mista J to let Harry come with them to the club tonight with the point that the boy couldn't prove himself if he was cooped up in the Penthouse all the time. As a precaution, the boy's head was bagged so that if he did manage to slip away he could not tell anyone of their whereabouts.

Harry had stuck close to her, looking quite uncomfortable in the midst of all the dancing bodies -

Girls had called out to him: "Hey handsome!" He had blushed furiously while Harley felt a sudden surge of anger that made her give the girls a glare that had them scampering away.

She had led him to the bar where they both drowned shots of whiskey.

Then, one of Harley's favorite songs came on. "Dance with me!" She implored, grabbing the boy's hand despite his protests and leading him onto the dance-floor.

She had wrapped her arms around his neck and started to sway - His hands stayed safely on her waist, their bodies inches apart, and when the song picked up tempo he raised his eyebrows and started to twirl her making her laugh in delight.

It was different, silly compared to the grinding and roaming hands going on around them -

Harley loved it.

Harry pulls her back in and dips her, his eyes sparkling and beginning to crinkle at the sides - Then he sees something behind them and his eyes widen -

Before Harley can think, Harry's grabbing her and running past people , yelling for them to take cover, to get out- shoving Harley to the ground behind the bar, shielding her with his body and he took something long and thin from his sleeve-

People start to scream a second later -

There was the sound of an explosion - of glass breaking and people burning ...

Now there was ringing silence. Harry was nowhere in sight.

"Harry?" Harley whispers, lifting her head to glance around the scene mostly obscured by a cloud of dust. Her blue eyes widen when she gets no response, ignoring the broken shards of glass that cut into her skin as she struggles to her feet. "Harry!"

She can now hear men talking, can hear Mista J shouting in fury...

She should call out - she should tell him she's fine.

But she is numb, as the cloud resides to show the wreckage of bodies. Some groan in pain; some are still

So much blood. More blood than she had ever seen...

The sight doesn't excite her - doesn't bring a mad grin to her face like it should have. Harley feels hollow, sick -

That was nearly her. It still should have been her by the way most only a few feet from her are at least injured on a greater scale than she is. The bar is a disaster zone – broken bottles and splintered wood. Yet all she has are a few scratches.

The thought makes some of the haze to fall away to be replaced with new terrifying fear - Some of that blood could be Harry's. Her eyes scan the bodies with more intensity, more care. Trying not to miss that head of messy black hair -

She steps from behind the bar and nearly steps on something - a stick , held by a tan hand...

Harley doesn't know what this feeling is. This aching, horrible feeling that squeezes her heart as she sees him lying there - looking so much younger than he normally did with his pretty eyes shut...

She just knows she doesn't like it.

"Harry." She whispers as she stumbles closer to him, falling to her knees to check for a pulse (something a Queen should never do - something Harley doesn't give two shits about right now).

It flutters beneath her fingers. She chokes on something - and her hands grip his hair, holding onto the soft strands desperately: "Harry..." As if in response the young man lets out a groan - his green, green eyes fluttering open to meet Harley's.

His words steal her breath.

"You Ok?" He gasps out, his eyes suddenly alert as he saw the cuts on her arms and face, struggling to sit up despite her protests. "Let me see - "

He groans, falling back against her chest, clutching the stick to his chest...that's when Harley notices the shard of glass sticking from his abnorman.

"Harry...Sugar..." Harley mummers in horror.

The boy grimaces. "I'm fine. Really, it's nothing..."

"Nothing!" Harley hisses furiously, her glare making Harry wince.

Before he can open his mouth to say anything more stupid, however, Mista J's voice cut through the silence like a gun-shot. "HARLEY!"

The madness in his voice made even Harley cringe, but she shouted back without tearing her gaze from Harry: "I'M FINE PUDDIN, JUST A LITTLE SHOCKED. I'M AT THE BAR." She pauses, looking at the shard in Harry's stomach as she adds. "HARRY SAVED MY LIFE."

There is a pause - then the sound of rushing feet. A minute later, Harley finds herself in the arms of her Puddin - who clutched so tight she winced. "Thank the devil." Mista J whispered, smelling her hair greedily before his gaze turned to the boy lying on the ground. "Or - thank, the boy - I guess."

Harry clenched his jaw, probably biting back a sharp retort. "No problem. I've always had a -" He pauses, a strange light coming to his eyes as he repeated words Harley remembers from their first meeting. "Saving people thing."

"Hm..." Mista J said, looking at the boy intensely. "Well - I'm goin' to have this mess cleaned up -" Harley sees the way Harry's face darkens at the word 'mess'. Thankfully, Mista J doesn't - "Get you stitched up, my new friend and then we will discuss your new position."

"Position?" Harry repeats, his expression showing his confusion.

The Joker grins. "I don't typically like people with a - how'd you put it? 'Saving People Thing' They usually get in the way of my business and just really piss me off. But you - lucky, lucky you - have proven yourself to be useful. So..." The Joker lets go of Harley in favour of rubbing his hands together excitedly. "You're going to be my doll's new body-guard."

He pauses, as if expecting a big cheer. Harry merely blinks. "Um - Thanks."

"C'mon kid, I'm offering a great opportunity you can try to sound more cheerful." The Joker probes, his smile wide, eyes glinting manically.

Harry clenches his jaw, but Harley sends him a warning look that he thankfully - thankfully understands. The boy allows his lips to curl up just slightly. "Thank you, Mister J. This is the opportunity of a life-time."

"Ah - much better!" The Joker exclaims, clapping his hands before looking back at Harley. "Why don't ya get Frosty to take you and him to get stitched up, toots. I'll handle everything here."

"If you're sure Puddin." Harley says with a smile, giving him a kiss before he left, yelling orders to his men. She then turned to Harry, whose expression is unreadable even as she goes to help him up.

H~H

The drive back to the Penthouse is silent, with Harry holding a handkerchief against the shard of glass still in his stomach to reduce blood loss with one hand while the other is clutched by Harley. As they get closer and closer to their destination, Harley's grip steadily becomes tighter as the shock wears away to the realization that Harry had nearly died today.

It isn't pleasant.

Looking over at him, Harley drinks in the hard set of Harry's jaw, his tousled hair and the way his green eyes fixate on the streets outside...

They look lost. Haunted.

She wonders how he - a twenty year old at most with no criminal record they were able to dig up- saw the bomb when none of the top crime bosses in Gotham couldn't.

Harley's grip tightens.

Harry - strangely enough - makes no move to pull away.

H~H

Upon arriving at the Penthouse, the Queen is immediately taken care of. Bandages, hot chocolate, sweets all provided before Harry, the one with a damn shard of glass sticking in his stomach, is even brought to lie down.

Some broken furniture and a gun aimed at someone's head is quick to remedy that.

As he sleeps due to several drugs forced into him so he would get some sleep, Harley sits on his bed with her knees drawn to her chest and gazes down at his face with a strange feeling welling in her chest. Her eyes trace over the bandages on his chest and the scattering of old scars before flickering back up to his face. "You're not allowed to die." She whispers to the still boy, her voice choked. "I won't let you, you suicidal bastard."

Harley refuses to acknowledge the burning behind her eyes or the implications of her words.

For those wondering, the blast was strong enough to cause a bloody scene for those nearest to the bomb and blast the people further away pretty far. With the little time Harry had, he was able to cast a pretty powerful shield charm on Harley and brought her behind the bar so that she wouldn't be thrown by the blast - because the shield charm wouldn't be able to quite stop that effect, he also cast a quick charm on those nearest to him, but not himself.

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