Chapter Summary: In which Harvey Specter goes to a different bar, one that he he had never been to, and meets the Boy-Who-Lived. (Suits)

Don't arrive on the rooftop this time.

Harry blinked then shrugged, glanced down to the building underneath. He was a ways above it, having decided to fly over this time to get some time in the air. But apparently… He pondered Harvey's words, narrowly missing a startled pigeon that had just taken flight, and then grinned, knowing what Harvey intended.

He made sure the disillusionment charm around him was still working, his magic humming around him and his Firebolt, then sped down through the air. The wind whistled around him, making him whoop out in pure joy. It had been a long morning and he had been busy every minute.

Harry was of half of a mind to just up and quit, settle down to teach. He had enjoyed it immensely back in fifth year and at least he wouldn't have idiots trying to curse or kill him. Maybe… he would even move to America, get an apartment in New York City to more easily visit Harvey. As it was, he did have a lot of his things in the other man's penthouse apartment.

He ended up on the ground a few minutes later, walking over to the entrance of the building and tucked away his broom, removing the disillusionment charm on himself.

Donna spotted the unusual looking man as soon as the guy came around the corner. The man was tall, six feet and at least two inches, with long, wild black hair that went down to his shoulders and looked like it was hard to tame. As he walked closer to her desk, she could see that he had green eyes and a strangely shaped scar on his forehead. One that as he stopped before her desk, she could see it was shaped like a lightning bolt.

He was wearing black slacks and a dark green shirt, with a holster at his waist. Donna narrowed her eyes as she realized that there was no gun in that holster, just a thin piece of wood.

"May I help you?"

"You would be Donna, right?"

Her eyes widened, grinning slightly at the man's accent. It was low but definitely there. "British?"

"Born and raised there," the man remarked, returning her grin and loosely crossing his arms. Not in a defensive posture but more… that he was utterly comfortable with himself and expected to be listened to.

"Who are you?"

"Uh, right. Harry Potter," the man spoke idly, glancing up and behind her to Harvey's office, which currently had no one in it. "Harvey texted me, said I was needed."

"Right, Harvey did say something to me about you. You can wait here for him."

Harry nodded and as Donna watched, he looked around the office.

"Are you a client?"

"Harry!"

Donna watched as Harry turned, his green eyes lighting up at seeing Harvey walk down the hallway.

"Hey," Harry spoke, walking over to meet Harvey halfway. "What's up?"

Donna's eyes widened when Harvey's brown eyes softened, one of his arms reaching out to tug Harry back down the hallway and down to the conference room.

"Trouble with a client's kid. Your kind of trouble."

"Oooh, my kind of trouble. Alright. What can I do?"

Harry fell into step with Harvey, glancing at the people who passed them as they walked. Many people, other lawyers, paralegals, and probably at least a few associates moved out of Harvey's way as they walked and Harry's lips twitched up into a small grin. "Okay, what's the deal?"

"One of my clients brought in their kid, a girl," Harvey explained, steering Harry in the direction of the conference room. "They're with Mike right now. They told me that their kid is showing abilities. How young does a kid need to be to start showing magic?"

"Kids start showing as young as three. You think the girl is a witch?"

"The parents are scared. They think she is-"

"What? Possessed?" Harry interrupted, narrowing his eyes. "Those movies… I swear. We are not possessed. Ah well, I'll talk with them. What did you tell the parents about me?"

Harvey snorted. "I told them you were my consultant."

"Not expert?"

"That too."

"Harvey, who is this?"

"Jessica, this is the consultant I told you about," Harvey said, gesturing to him.

Harry watched as Jessica Pearson walked over to them, stopping a few feet before him and Harvey. Jessica looked him over and Harry stayed still, raising an eyebrow.

"Harry Potter."

He held out his hand and Jessica took it, her eyes narrowed in thought.

"What do you do?" Jessica questioned, looking briefly at Harvey before focusing on him.

"Law enforcement," Harry offered idly.

Jessica blinked, turning to look at Harvey in askance.

"Oh, don't worry," Harvey remarked. "Mike is not the kind of criminal he pursues. He's just here for my client's kid. They're having trouble with her."

"What kind of trouble?" Jessica looked at Harry, her eyes lit with interest.

"She's troubled," Harvey said with a frown. "Harry's here to look at her, offer his advice."

"Ah. Well, make sure the client's happy. We can't have them going off to that new firm that opened up three blocks down."

"What new firm?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. He vaguely remembered the president telling him about their new office space that was… He grinned, knowing that whatever the building that Jessica was talking about said on the outside, it wasn't a law firm on the inside.

"Exactly," Jessica answered, glancing down at her watch. "I am off to a meeting with one of my clients, lunch. I'll be back in an hour."

Harry watched as Jessica walked past them, to where the elevators were. "I believe Minerva would like her."

"Your former transfiguration professor?" Harvey confirmed, as he gestured Harry towards the conference room.

"Yeah, except… Maybe not. They could take over the world if they put their minds to it," Harry replied idly.

"I would not doubt that."

As soon as they reached the conference room, with Harvey stepping into the room first, Harry immediately knew that Harvey had been right. The seven year old girl sitting in a chair in the corner was a witch and was scared, hugging her knees into her chest.

There were four other adults in the room, plus who Harry figured to be Mike Ross. The other three were bickering, loudly, about how to take care of the kid, whether she was ill or special or evil. Harry's eyes narrowed as he followed Harvey into the room, shutting the door behind him and warding the room within a second. He leaned against the wall, watching as Harvey walked over to stand next to Mike, who looked bewildered, unsure how to deal with their clients.

None of the adults stopped at the entrance and no one even spared a glance at him. Mike did then turned to Harvey and asked who he was.

Harry sighed, raised an eyebrow and Harvey nodded. This was his show now. Both Harvey and Mike would stand aside, let him explain to the clients. He watched them walk out through the door, shutting it behind them then Harry turned back to the parents.

He walked over to the head of the table, crossed his arms and spoke, staring pointedly at the three adults in front of him. Two women and one man, maybe the parents and the nanny, he supposed.

"Enough."

The three adults stopped talking immediately, shocked into silence by the newcomer. They turned to stare at him, blinking in dismay, at the rigid steel in his voice, the voice that brokered no argument.

"Who-"

"You're scaring your daughter," Harry remarked quietly. At that the three adults looked sheepish, the mother-she looked like she was related to the kid- walked over to the girl and kneeled, whispering. "And no, she's not ill, possessed, evil or anything else you think is wrong. She's a witch."

"Alright," Harry said, stepping out through the door, seeing Harvey, Mike, and Donna talk between each other down the hall. It had taken an hour to talk the parents down, to convince them that he wasn't lying, that their daughter was special, and that if they hurt her, they would have him to answer to. "They're all yours again."

"Should I reschedule your lunch meeting?" Donna asked as Harry walked over to them. He stopped beside Harvey, leaving not a lot of space between them, enough so that they could touch fingers if they wanted. "It was suppose to be at noon and it's half past. The man isn't even here and you have court in 30 minutes."

Harvey turned to look at him, thinly veiled mischief in his brown eyes.

Harry snorted but shrugged.

"We can reschedule," Harvey remarked. "As he's right here."

"I certainly don't mind," Harry offered bemusedly. "See you at home then?"

"You said you had a meeting with Lord Black," Mike said, his eyes widening. "That's you?"

"You put me under 'Lord Black'?" Harry questioned, smiling in amusement. "You know I don't like that title."

"Reminds me of our first meeting," Harvey replied, smiling.

Harvey walked over to the bar and sat down on the unoccupied stool closest to him, signaled the bartender over.

"What can I get you?" The woman asked, looking him over with blue, interested eyes.

"Scotch, please."

Harvey turned around, looking the place over while his drink was made. It was a bit of an odd bar, one that he had found that was closer to the firm. In all the ten years he had worked at Pearson Hardman so far, he hadn't found this one until today. The people in it were odd, some dressed in black robes while others were dressed normally. Maybe it was trivia night or something…

"Do you have a game night tonight?" Harvey asked, turning to look at the bartender as she handed his drink over.

The woman raised an eyebrow but shook her head, smiling a little. "No. Some of those people like cloaks, what can I say?"

Harvey snorted and turned back around, looking over at everyone. Music was playing through speakers in the bar but it was quiet enough to hear everyone talk amongst themselves. He heard quite a few people say that they were glad it was Friday and he wouldn't admit this out loud but he was glad it was Friday too.

There was a boisterous group of people huddled in the back, talking loudly about sports results. About whose team won and whose team lost but Harvey didn't really… recognize the teams. And it wasn't baseball season either so it must have been something else. Everyone seemed to be comfortable, sitting and drinking, chatting about the week. No one was sitting in silence.

Then the door opened and a man stepped through, stopping on the mat to shake off the bits of snow on his head. Most, if not the entire bar, went silent, all of the people in black cloaks and robes turning to stare at the newcomer. The newcomer stared back, green eyes that seemed to be glowing and wild black hair with snowflakes in it, shucking off his coat and hanging it on the coat rack.

The bartender had gone silent too and Harvey raised an eyebrow, wondering just who the man at the door was. The guy seemed to be a year or two younger than Harvey, 40 or so, tall and muscular, quite possibly built for speed, rather than brute force.

The newcomer, dressed in black slacks and a dark green shirt, narrowed his eyes. "Alright, people, nothing to see here. Go back to your drinks."

Everyone immediately turned back around, returning to their drinks and conversations. Though some people did continue to stare at the man walked through the bar and over to where Harvey was sitting, sitting down on the bar stool next to him.

"What can I get for you, Harry?"

"The usual, thanks, Liz," the man spoke, his British accent telling Harvey his origin.

"You're new. You..." The guy trailed off, shrugging.

Harvey stared. "You someone important?"

The guy next to him turned, allowing Harvey to see the rather strange looking scar on forehead. It looked like a lightning bolt, the old scar striking out in bolts, facing downward and Harvey idly wondered how the man had gotten it and how it felt, whether it would be a raised scar or level with the skin.

"Depends."

"On what?"

"You want the long version or the short version?"

Harvey snorted. "Short, please."

"Saved the world," the man spoke, his lips twitching up into a weary grin. The bartender handed over the man's drink and the guy took it, taking a sip right away and sighing. "Oh, Merlin. This is good. Harry Potter."

"Harvey Specter. That's such a broad statement for a Brit."

The guy… Harry... grinned mischievously. "The rest is classified so I'm not going apologize for it."

"Again, very vague," Harvey remarked, moving so that his whole body was leaning towards Harry. "Military?"

"More or less," Harry answered, mirroring Harvey in that he turned towards him, taking a small sip of his drink. "Retired when I was 25."

"'Retired'? You 'retired' when you were 25?"

"From what was more or less the military, yes," Harry said, a teasing undercurrent to his voice. "You?"

"Closer."

"As in… lawyer?"

"Yep."

"Figures," Harry commented, gesturing to Harvey. His green eyes narrowed before he licked his lips. "That suit… You at one of the top firms here?"

"Are you saying you think I'm hot?" Harvey questioned, his breath hitching, at the naked desire in the man's eyes.

"Maybe…"

"'Maybe'? I think I should take offense at that," Harvey retorted.

"Yeah?"

"Excuse me?"

Harry turned on his stool, seeing a young woman standing anxiously before him. She was holding out a pad and pen towards him, smiling hesitantly.

"Autograph?" Harry confirmed.

She nodded. "If you wouldn't mind. I wouldn't even have dreamed of meeting you here! My son will be so excited!"

"People ask you for autographs?" Harvey asked, watching as Harry reached out for both pad and paper.

"What's your son's name?"

"Nick. Make it out to Nick."

Harry scribbled out something and Harvey peered over at his writing. It was messy, not neat at all. His name and a small encouraging message before Harry handed it back to the woman.

"Thank you so much!"

"Your welcome," Harry replied, watching as the woman turned to go then turning back to Harvey. "Yeah, autographs are a thing with me."

"Who are you? A movie actor?" Harvey tried, bewildered for the first time in months. He did think he would have recognized Harry's name before if the guy was an actor but he hadn't. It was a welcome challenge for him, taking his mind off of work, off of the annoying case that he was working on.

Harry smiled and shook his head. "No, you're not even hot."

"Oh, I'm not hot? You just said I was earlier."

"I meant hot as in hot or cold," Harry said, rolling his eyes in bemusement, taking another sip of his drink. "We've already established that I think you're attractive. If you want to play 20 questions, go right ahead."

"I still had four questions," Harvey muttered, as they exited the elevator on his floor and stepped into his penthouse apartment. Harry followed closely, tugging his coat off, and placing it on the coat rack idly, like they weren't just in the middle of making out like teenagers.

"Just consider everything classified," Harry retorted, smirking a little and pulling Harvey in further for another kiss. Another warm, wet, kiss that sent little sparks of pleasure spiraling through his body and down to the base of his spine.

"Or we could continue to go out and I could tease the details out of you," Harvey argued, his voice trailing off on a moan as Harry slid his fingers to his waist and slipped under his suit jacket, touching skin.

"You could try," Harry whispered heatedly, bemusedly, his voice husky, shrugging and placing his other hand in the center of Harvey's chest. "Bed?"

"That way," Harvey spoke, gesturing behind them while starting to take off his suit. Harry nodded, nudging him backward, not pulling away at all while Harvey took off his vest, leaving him in his white shirt and slacks.

"That is much too much clothing," Harry remarked, glancing at the downed vest, suit coat.

"Says the person that still has his shirt on," Harvey retorted. "Off."

Harry obliged, shucking off his shirt, and for a moment, Harvey just stared. There were multiple scars all over Harry's chest, one muted red on his left shoulder, one bright red, purplish scar on his upper chest, right above a nipple. Another dull orange jagged scar on his hip, to which Harvey reached out to touch, feeling the raised skin of the scar.

"What the fuck do you do?" Harvey questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I had a varied career when I went to school," Harry offered, his fingers making distracting circles on Harvey's skin. "Got me into trouble occasionally."

"Trouble?"

"Yes." Harry grinned, walking Harvey back to the foot of the bed, which just happened to be in view of the door. Harvey sat down as Harry walked right into the space between his legs.

"You aren't in trouble, are you?" Harvey asked as Harry leaned down to kiss him, just a brush of lips that sent sparks of heat throughout his body.

"Nope. I'm good."

Harvey woke up the next morning, satisfied and sleepy, yawning as he blinked his eyes open. There was a warm body behind him, an arm thrown across his waist. There was an insistent noise coming from somewhere in his penthouse but he was too lazy to get up and see what it was. It almost sounded like a woodpecker pecking wood but there was no wood in his apartment or on his balcony. He could feel Harry breathing behind him, hear his breathing hitch, then the man behind him moved, a sleepy groan coming out of his throat.

He felt as Harry moved, removing his arm, and swinging his legs off the bed. The noise was now annoying but since Harry was getting up, moving farther away from, he just tugged a pillow over and burrowed back into the blankets. Harry stopped moving then Harvey felt lips against his neck, making him shiver, his heart skipping a beat at the intimate gesture, before he felt, heard, Harry move off the bed.

Assuming Harry had gone to use the bathroom, Harvey stayed where he was, so thankful it was a Saturday morning. He dozed for a few more minutes, staying in that hazy still asleep but beginning to be aware place, before yawning and sitting up, hearing the balcony door open.

He slowly, stretching as he moved, swung his legs off the bed, slipped on an old pair of sweats, and padded into the living room, looking for the man he had brought home last night. When Harvey spotted him, he stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening. Harry was pacing on the balcony, shirtless but with soft looking red sweats on. And an owl on his left shoulder, peering onto the piece of parchment Harry was holding in his hands.

The balcony door was open, letting the slight morning breeze in. Harvey could hear Harry muttering under his breath, something about idiot… minions? Harvey snorted, drawing Harry's attention. He watched as Harry turned around to face him, the owl staying put on the man's shoulder.

"There something I should know?" Harvey asked, walking over to the doorway to the balcony and leaning against the door, crossing his arms. "Are you a Disney princess in disguise?"

"Not quite," Harry answered, his lips twitching up into a bemused grin. "I am a Lord though if that counts. Not that I really put much stock into that title but it does make it easy to lobby my colleagues."

"What's with the owl then?"

"He needs payment, is what," Harry replied, studying Harvey for a minute before shrugging and flicking a finger.

Harvey blinked, looked between Harry and the owl and was about to ask something else, maybe what the hell was going on when a bag came zooming past him to land in Harry's hands. He watched as the other man reached in, drew out a few coins and dropped them in the little pouch attached to one of the owl's legs. The owl chirped, sounding aggrieved then took off, right from Harry's shoulder.

"Right…" Harry trailed off, turning to face Harvey once again. His green eyes were wary but still faintly amused by something. "I can explain."

"I'm sure you can. Why don't we have breakfast while you talk?" Harvey offered.

"Sounds good," Harry agreed, running a hand through hair before rocking back on his heels. "And perhaps a round two while we're at it…"

Harvey grinned. "So cocky."

"You've been staring at me ever since we got up, Harvey," Harry retorted bemusedly. "You haven't run screaming either."

"Oh, please. That response is beneath me."