So, bad news, somewhat. My original take on a Harry/Nico Robin idea tanked pretty quickly, and while I've managed to figure out a few new ideas, it's gone on the backburner for now. However, I have another interesting pairing for Harry, one I've been mulling over for some time, ever since a certain character's first appearance in-game in Genshin Impact. But her recent release as a playable character as of writing, as well as what her backstory is, has cemented it.

I speak of Arlecchino, aka the Knave, the Fourth Fatui Harbinger, aka the Girl Formerly Known as Peruere.

A promotional animated short showing, in brief, her past, her friendship with Clervie, and her killing her predecessor helped solidify my intent on trying to make this pairing a reality, but it was her Story Quest that truly got me going. Arlecchino is easily the most morally complex of the Harbingers, and possibly the most moral. We're yet to see Il Capitano, Tartaglia, despite his good qualities, also unleashed Osial, no matter how reluctantly, and nearly committed mass murder by proxy, and the other Harbingers tend to engage in competitive puppy dropkicking. Yes, I am including Scaramouche/Wanderer/Breathtaking Mummy Issues in that, and his heel-face turn ended up with him being not much of a face, remember.

But Arlecchino, while harsh and engaged in the dirty business of turning orphans into child soldiers and terrorists, also gives a damn about her charges. In fact, the most evil thing that we see her do is attack Furina. Everything else is down to pragmatism, or her going after even nastier people.

So, how to pair Harry with her? Well, it was surprisingly easy in some regards, and these initial chapters are the result. As always, there's no guarantee of them becoming a full work.

One last note: the title is a riff on A Kestrel for a Knave, a rather bleak novel that was turned into a bleak film called Kes, about a lower class boy who manages to tame a kestrel. It's not only a pun on Arlecchino's alternate title, the Knave, but also an unsubtle hint as to what Animagus form Harry has...

KESTREL OF A KNAVE

CHAPTER 1:

REUNION

Once upon a time, there were three children. Two girls, and a boy. One, a cheerful girl tormented by her mother. Another, a gloomier, yet gentle girl, afflicted with a curse in her very blood. And finally, a boy with a scar, with a great power that slept within him.

They grew up together in a place with a warm name, but a cold nature. An orphanage that took innocent and not-so-innocent children, and turned them into weapons. Soldiers, spies, saboteurs…the one they called 'Mother' cared little about the innocence she was destroying in the name of forging weapons…and a potential successor.

Yet these three had each other. That was of some comfort during what was a twisted childhood. And for the boy, it was better, in some ways, than what he had experienced before. He at least had friends now.

But their friendship fell apart, thanks to forces without.

The first to disappear was the boy. One day, on the boy's eleventh birthday, an old man with a beard and a bird came to speak with Mother. Then, the old man vanished, taking the boy with him. The two girls did not know what happened, and Mother would never speak of it, punishing those who asked. Her associate, a man known only as the Doctor, was also angry at what had happened, for he was trying to unlock the secrets in the boy's blood.

Then, the two girls were separated by Mother's cruelty. Mother loved to pit the best against each other, supposedly to find a successor, a King. But in truth, it was also more than likely that she got a sadistic thrill of pitting comrade against comrade, friend against friend, sibling against sibling. Certainly, she seemed to enjoy tormenting her own daughter, and so, she pitted said daughter against the daughter's friend. And one of the friends died.

The surviving girl had no innocence left by the time she was forced to slay her own friend. But now, something in her broke. She brooded on the injustice and cruelty, before, a year later, she took on Mother. After a brutal battle, she won, burning Mother to ashes…no, to dust. She was incarcerated, only to be freed, and given the same position as Mother. But she rejected the same title, choosing to be an aloof and strict Father…and yet be, perversely, warmer than the prior holder of the position.

To her, her friends were unhappy memories. One had been murdered (by her own hand, no less, even if it was closer to suicide by proxy), the other, she learned looking through files, had been abducted by the strange old man, who claimed, like the boy, to come from a world that hadn't known gods among them for a long time, if ever. Whatever the case, Father knew that, if the boy had ever meant to come back from wherever he was, he would have done so by now. Feelings of resentment and betrayal bubbled beneath the stoic, cold mask she showed to the world.

Yet in her own way, while she continued the same business as Mother, she did it in a better way, a gentler way. Strict and cold, but not without the warmth of the Hearth, and a genuine warmth at that, not the false warmth Mother showed. She showed them a love and affection that, while understated, even cool, was genuine. And she acted against those who would prey on children, who would do worse than turn them into soldiers and spies.

But there was a gaping hole in her heart such matters could never hope to fill. A hole she did her best to ignore, by burying herself in her work. She shrouded herself in rumour, intrigue, and darkness, even encouraging the slander of her peers to obfuscate her own reputation and history. But she would have wanted nothing more than to be with her friends again.

She did not know it, but the boy was a hero on another world. Then again, the boy didn't know it until he was told by the well-meaning old fool who had taken him. But said old fool had also left the boy with cruel relatives, and had just taken not only the boy away from his only friends, but also took a keepsake of considerable value. A Vision.

The old fool took the boy's memories. But the memories returned when the old fool died at the hands of another. The boy did not take that well. Recovering his Vision, he would wage war against the forces of evil, against the man who had robbed him of his parents. He won the war, but at considerable cost to himself. Nothing as pedestrian as anything physical or fiscal. But his reputation was in tatters after using the Vision, and the techniques he had learned under Mother. And psychological scars remained, from his time on two worlds.

Yet he spent the next few years working on a means to return to the girls he once befriended, hoping beyond all hope that they had lived. With the help of friends he had made on his homeworld, he succeeded. But their reunion wouldn't be a happy one.

Even so, from an unpromising reunion, would come a bond renewed…

The woman currently striding along a path near Mont Esus had many names. Father. The Knave. Even, long ago, Peruere, the name she spent most of her childhood under. Yet she was notorious across the world as being known as Arlecchino, the Fourth Fatui Harbinger.

In theory, the Fatui were bankers, diplomats, and soldiers in the service of the Cryo Archon, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya. It was an open secret, however, that they were also spies and saboteurs, assassins and agents provocateur who were known to cause trouble, even if concrete proof was lacking. They were tolerated at best in other countries across Teyvat, with Snezhnaya's power too much to consider rejecting them entirely.

The Harbingers were the elite of the Fatui, founded by Pierro, a mysterious man who appeared to be of Khaenri'an extraction, and who took the name of a fool and a clown for his own title. Indeed, the very titles were taken from ancient comedies, now used for an organisation that was no comedy, save for the darkest sort. Arlecchino, the Knave, the Harlequin…what a damn joke. She didn't ask to be saddled with her late and unlamented predecessor Crucabena's title. Then again, it was a choice between that and death, and at least as the Knave, she could make the House of the Hearth more welcoming, more warm, as much as the business of raising child soldiers and spies could be considered as such.

Then again, it wasn't like she was the only one. Ningguang, the Tianquan or leader of the Liyue Qixing or mercantile council and effective viceroy of Rex Lapis, used children as spies, and the Adepti had taken in young students before. The Shuumatsuban of Inazuma trained children as shinobi. Mondstadt preached ideals of freedom, but it allowed children to join the ranks of the Knights of Favonius, even if in a relatively limited matter. There were even young ones in the Adventurers Guild, founded in Snezhnaya, but with branches all across Teyvat. And yet, these other countries had the nerve to look down on the House of the Hearth when they had not-dissimilar practises?

Arlecchino scoffed at the hypocrisy. True, she was a hypocrite, but she was a self-aware one. Besides, you couldn't be involved in espionage and diplomacy without engaging in some hypocrisy.

Such were her thoughts as she walked along the scenic path near Mount Esus. Even in the moonlight, there was beauty. She had to admit, one thing she could admire was scenic beauty. True, natural beauty could be harsh or even lethal beauty: one only had to nearly suffer from hypothermia at Dragonspine or in the frozen wastes of Snezhnaya, or dodging lighting at Yashiori Island in the Inazuma archipelago to know this. But even serene beauty had its place in the world.

Still, she was here on a mission. She had a number of operatives stationed here at all times, to monitor comings and goings near the ruins of what once had been the House of the Hearth. While the ruins had been stripped of anything that could be of use to any foes, Arlecchino did not become the success she was as the Knave without covering all bases.

Earlier today, her operatives reported someone entering the ruins. After a requisite period, they'd gone to check on the person, only to find them absent. It was possible, though exceedingly unlikely, that they could have slipped by the operatives, so Arlecchino, having no immediate business to attend to at the Hotel Bouffes d'Ete, made the trip herself.

With that thought in mind, she arrived at the ruins, a hooded coat and mask over her operations outfit. The operative stationed there made themselves known. "Father?" the woman asked.

"Report. Have you found the interloper?"

The operative shook her head. "Not as yet. I have spoken with our other people in the area. There was nobody answering to the description after he entered the ruins. Young man, early twenties, with dark hair and glasses. That was all we could discern, as he wore a wide-brimmed hat."

Dark hair? Glasses? That sounded familiar. But Arlecchino dismissed the possibility almost as soon as she thought it. It couldn't be him. Such a description was dreadfully common across the world, never mind Fontaine.

Arlecchino entered, the operative not far behind, before she noted what they had missed. She couldn't blame them too much: they didn't enter unless they had to, they could be forgiven for not seeing what had appeared only recently. A rather large wooden trunk, half-hidden by debris. Just large enough to hold a person, not unlike the boxes the twins, Lyney and Lynette, used in their performances.

"Return to your station, I will deal with this," Arlecchino said curtly, and did not wait for the acknowledgement. She went over to the trunk, and after a brief moment of examining it for any signs of traps, she reached for the latches.

As she did, she recoiled, shaking her hands to rid them of the numbness that had followed the sharp pain. Some sort of Electro energy? It certainly felt like an electric shock. Mild, but painful. Yet using Elemental Sight showed no signs of Electro energy. Though there was an unfamiliar energy lingering around those latches.

"Curious," she murmured softly to herself. She wondered, should she try to brute force it open? Or would that prove disastrous? She preferred finesse in her solutions to problems, not pure destruction. The likes of Tartaglia or Scaramouche would certainly do so.

Gingerly, she reached out her hands to the wood of the trunk itself. No shock, so she formed a fist, and rapped gently but firmly on the lid. Five beats in an irregular tune, one she had been taught a long time ago, by an old friend. Shave and a haircut.

After a few seconds, she scoffed. A stupid notion, and she walked away. However, just as she was about to leave the ruins for now, she heard two knocks replying. Two bits.

She whirled to face the trunk, which seemed to open up from within. A form wearing a wide-brimmed hat struggled out. Arlecchino stared. It was as if the person was climbing a staircase rather than getting up from a lying position. She just watched and observed for now.

The young man eventually saw her. "…Huh. Okay. Another masked weirdo from the Fatui. Though why you know that riff…"

That voice…while it wasn't quite familiar to her, the accent was. Arlecchino scoffed at his words. "What brings you here? Curiosity?"

"Nostalgia. Tell me, whoever you are…do you know girls…well, they'd be women now, called Clervie or Peruere? One's got red hair and green eyes, the other's got white hair with black streaks, and weird black eyes with red crosses in them. Clervie's cheerful, while Peruere…she's gloomy, but nice."

The names and descriptions were like a stab to the heart. Clervie, the girl she was forced to kill as part of Mother's sick, twisted games. And Peruere, the name she discarded long ago in becoming the Knave. Though calling her past self 'gloomy but nice' rang a bell, to say nothing of being flattering.

"Clervie died," Arlecchino said bluntly. She needed to be blunt: this man had put her off balance by knowing these names, names that should only be known to a select few. Now, she needed to put him off balance in return, to try and get information as to who he was, and how he knew such names. "As did Peruere. Tell me, how did you know those names?"

"Because I grew up with them for a while." With that bombshell, he took off his hat. With his face no longer partly concealed by the shadows of the hat, Arlecchino now saw him under the moonlight.

Arlecchino was no stranger to ghosts. Indeed, those killed by the Balemoon Bloodfire occasionally manifested themselves as shades. Clervie in particular had become something of a minor urban myth, specifically around the Hotel Bouffe d'Etes. Yet here was a ghost from the past she had never expected to see again, and she would admit, this was a rare time when she was dumbfounded.

The young man was a touch on the scrawny side, though his lanky frame had some muscle to it. His head was topped by a familiar messy mop of black hair, while behind his glasses, emerald eyes glinted in the moonlight. But that face…true, she had last seen it when they were both children, not even teenagers.

Arlecchino, unbidden, gently walked up to him. He seemed wary, but he let her brush aside part of his fringe. And there it was, faded, but the scar shaped like a lightning bolt was still there.

"…Harry?" she asked, years of self-control and stoicism shaken, her tone almost like she was a child again.

Harry, after a moment, reached up, carefully taking her mask off, revealing those eyes that marked her, that damned her, the pitch-black orbs with the crimson crosses that were a marker of the Crimson Moon Dynasty of Khaenri'ah, if Pierro was to be believed. "…Perrie?"

She did not sob for joy with a reunion. She did not embrace him like the cliché of friends reunited. Her nature and profession prevented that. Instead, she said, "What did you get Clervie and I for our tenth birthdays?"

"…A Lumidouce Bell hairclip for Clervie, and a book of Senzhnayan landscape photography for you," he said. "And you? What did you get me?"

"…Clervie and I went in together to get you that automaton bird. Well, we found it and repaired it, but…you left it behind when…when…" Arlecchino brought her walls back into place with a supreme effort of will. "I believe this is a conversation best held elsewhere. Please come with me."

"…Just one question, Perrie…you did this, didn't you?" he asked, indicating the ruins around them.

"…Yes."

"And that bitch who called herself 'Mother'?"

"…Dead, by my hand, at this very spot. And the Tsaritsa had me take her place. And you, Harry?"

"A very long story. I'll tell you when we're somewhere quieter…"

CHAPTER 1 ANNOTATIONS:

Oh dear. Harry's been part of the House of the Hearth once upon a time. And he knew Peruere, aka the current Arlecchino. But will their reunion go well?

Now, ages are a tricky thing to pin down in the game. However, Arlecchino's Story Quest explicitly states that Clervie was 16 when she died, and for the sake of this story, Peruere/Arlecchino and Harry were about the same age too. Given that Freminet joined the House of the Hearth in between Arlecchino being 16 and 17 (he was sold to Crucabena, the previous Arlecchino, during the interim between Clervie's death, and he was told a twisted version of why by Crucabena), and that Freminet himself seems to be in his mid to late teens by the time the events of the game rolls around, then I would place at anywhere from 6-10 years between Freminet joining the House of the Hearth and the start of the game. TV Tropes claims that Lyney's Story Quest has the twins as having a decade's worth of experience, and after looking back on the Story Quest, it does show that Lyney and Lynette have been part of the House of the Hearth for ten years, as Cesar's notes do say they had joined the House of the Hearth by then (he mentions them discussing 'Father').

So, therefore, for the sake of this story, Freminet is 17 at canon, Lyney and Lynette 19, and Harry and Arlecchino would be 27. As this story begins two years prior to the game, well, you do the math.

The 'shave and a haircut' riff may not exist on Teyvat, but Harry heard it on Earth prior to ending up on Teyvat, probably from Dudley watching something like Who Framed Roger Rabbit? or some old cartoon.

No numbered annotations this time.