Mystique Soldier Ch.23 (Patreon)

Chapter 23- Back to America

AN: Beta'd by Sam and Sedition

Took another day cause the chapter hit over 12k words. 

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‘It’s time.'

Eyes closed and head bowed, Harry Potter sat at the massive ancestral ornate table of the Potter Manor, psyching himself up for what was to come.

This was it. His wait was finally over, the clock ticking down. Upon him was the day that would provide him with an opportunity to truly assess his newly gained skills and battle prowess, perhaps even confirming exactly where he stood in this world. If his caution and preparation was truly warranted…

Though he doubted he’d ever stop improving himself—even should he have surpassed everyone already. But in that case, he would surely need a new goal.

After all, if he no longer strived to survive, what exactly would push him forward?

Unfortunately, in all of his planning, there was just…a minor problem…that he hadn’t quite taken into account.

And that minor problem was currently upstairs; jumping around in the house, screaming at the top of her voice, and doing what she did best….being an annoying little hellion.

"Mum! I can't find my green frock! I think Dori burnt it!"

Harry sighed, and not for the first time either. While he would like to pretend that he was doing something worthwhile—sitting here, contemplating life—in truth he just wanted to escape the crosshair of his siblings, their bickering now grating upon his ears.

Right on cue, his elder sister hollered at the top of her voice from the other side of the Manor. "Please, as if I have nothing better to do!"

Harry buried his face in the hollow of his elbow. He was almost coming to miss the arrogant but silent Dorea, at least his peace would’ve been whole and unconquered. Almost.

"You called it an abdomination! I always knew you hated it!"

"As did you! I don't know why you suddenly find it more interesting. And it's 'abomination'."

"Mum, she said it again! She said the ‘A’ word! And I like it now cause I'm a mighty Slytherin! Green is my new favorite color!"

Harry sighed once more, palm coming to rub his eyes.

The morning of 19th December was supposed to mark the day of his resurgence, when he would grace America with his now upgraded presence….instead, all it saw was the Potter Manor being a den of chaotic mess, and him in the midst of it.

The three Potter siblings had arrived back home from Hogwarts the prior night, side-Apparated by Lily, having left earlier than the rest of the school. Except for Harry, who took it as a chance to test out his new Apparition skill…something he truly wasn’t a fan of.

But while their parents were surely glad to see them, their mere presence broke apart whatever little peace the Potter manor might have had prior to their arrival in a trillion little pieces.

This was supposed to be a big day for Harry. So much so that he'd forced himself to put the entire Prophecy that had recently been revealed to him in the back of his mind, intending to focus on the mission first…and yet, in front of the hell his sisters raised, it might as well be taking a second priority.

‘Is this how a normal family prepares for vacations?’

He hadn’t even given the World level its due contemplation! Aside from the wider—and quite startling—implications that it seemed to hint at him.

[World Level]: The User’s World Level shows the difficulty of the opponents. With each increase in World Level, more powerful beings will be introduced to this world.

• Note: Increase in World Level will hasten the events and story quests for the User.

What did it mean to hasten the events? Were the events of this world pre-planned? Was he simply following an already established fate? While he was always glad for more quests, he knew there was something special about Story Quests…and yet, he was entirely ignorant about what story he was following exactly.

The ‘more powerful beings’ part, on the other hand, seemed to lend credit to Harry’s idea of having surpassed everyone. Why else would the system wish to introduce even more powerful beings after all? And, as it seemed, inter-planetary ones on top of that.

But if that wasn't the case and he considered his other theory…if he pondered deeper into the second conclusion that he’d drawn…

Then things might become grimmer than Harry would like them to be.

Even if he ignored the implications of there being aliens—and a much wider universe than he’d previously believed—the fact that his system might be saturating a world full of powerful beings with even more powerful aliens meant that it might not be acting in his best interest anymore.

If it ever did.

That was a painful shock in itself, but when you add in the notion of it trying to push Harry to become even stronger—for something other than basic survival—it makes one wonder…

‘What if the system is just preparing me for something greater? Something much bigger? Stronger?’

But then, what could possibly be stronger than his system?

The mere thought placed a permanent frown on his face. Most of the strength he’d accumulated was through his system; something he’d always considered to be above all else. Even God. The fact that there could be someone or something rivaling its might…

Well, whatever it might be, Harry wanted nothing to do with it.

What he feared was that his system might not give him that option…

‘And it wouldn’t even be too hard to force me. Just give me a quest with devastating negatives upon failure and I’d be trapped…’

Realizing how harshly his heart was burning, Harry turned his rapidly descending mind to happier things with a gentle push from Occlumency

Like the fact that he was about to reunite with Kara today. Along with Melinda, Maria, and perhaps—with the system's grace and glory—Natasha.

It would be interesting to note their exact affection and reputation for him. They’d always treated him much better than strangers—Kara even declaring him family once—but only his system could confirm if that was all just a show to manipulate him…or actual sentiments similar to his family.

Though he was also a smidge more excited to compare exactly how they stacked against Lily. They were all beautiful women after all—Natasha in a league of her own—but could any hope to compete with Lily? One of the most voluptuous and buxom women he’d ever witnessed?

Well, with the amount of experience he'd accumulated recently, he would definitely like to find out.

The thought brewed no small amount of desire within him, a desire he hoped to breathe into these women.

…Even if he didn’t quite relish having to face Kara again.

Then again, perhaps she forgot about his ill-timed departure...

‘Not likely.’.

In any case, he’ll be seeing it with his own eyes in a few hours…

For they were about to leave Europe behind today. Their plane tickets for New York were already booked; first class seats in British Airways reserved for three families.

Harry didn’t know how he felt about sharing this trip with the Blacks and Lupins—except maybe for Amelia, who’d always been quite pleasing to the eye every time he saw her—but that was the least he could do for a begging James who’d been willing to hold his back against a Super Soldier like Ares.

Either way, their flight was already booked for 11 AM sharp, and they needed to reach Heathrow airport a while before that.

All three families had planned to meet at the Black Manor—it being the closest to London—at least an hour before the flight time. From there they would take a limousine James had so graciously booked for them all.

Unfortunately, Harry was beginning to have some doubts about their success…

"Mum! I can't leave my poor frock alone!"

"Dorea, be a dear and fetch it for her!"

"But you said I'm not supposed to use magic in the house unless needed!"

"Then fetch it by hand! I'm busy!"

"Tempus." Harry muttered, flicking his wand lightly.

'9:46 AM'.

Harry sighed.

Honestly, Harry couldn’t understand why his female family members felt the need for any packing. They didn’t have any weapons on them—except for a wand, which could fit in their pocket—and didn’t need any clothes, considering their plans of ‘mega shopping!’ he’d heard from their whispers once they reached America.

Thankfully, he did not need to torture himself for long as the grand fireplace was suddenly engulfed in green flames that parted away softly to reveal the well-dressed figure of James.

“Harry,” The man greeted with a smile, eyes flickering up and down his stature in assessment. “All ready for this trip? Though I’ll say, you do cut a very striking figure…what do the muggles call it? Lady killer? Hmm, though that would be a disastrous title for you now that I think about it, hehe. Unless you’ve never killed a lady befor—oh, forget it.”

The Potter lord chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. It suddenly struck Harry that both of his sisters might have inherited their social skills from their father. The awkwardness in Dorea—something that was becoming more visible everyday—and the chatter-mouthness in the Midget that seemed never to stop.

“What I’m saying is…you’ve definitely taken after your mother. When I was younger, I could never look good in anything other than formal robes. That too after a whole lot of grooming my mother forced on me. Especially my hair.”

As if to emphasize, he dabbed down a few wild strands of his hair that had come loose.

Deadpanned, Harry ignored all of his chatter, simply pointed up the stairs accusingly.

“Muuuum! Dori burnt the green frock! I told you she hated it!” Came the squeaking bellow of his midget twin.

James winced. "Ahh. I take it they aren't ready yet?"

Harry shook his head silently.

"Well how about you go and wait for us at Black Manor? Sara is already there, I’m sure you’d like to catch up with her outside the school.”

The man paused, eyes crinkling with a sudden snicker. “Also, the thought that you might leave without us will motivate Lily to go faster."

Shrugging, Harry slid down from his perch and made for the fireplace.

“Black Manor, Harry.” James reminded him. “Spell it loud and clear.”

With a nod at his father, Harry took a fistful of Floo Powder, threw it at his feet, and stated monotonously. “Black Manor.”

The comforting magical flames lapped him up in their warm embrace, twisting his being through a thin tube that stretched many miles across the world, before finally spitting him out through the other end.

Harry landed on his feet, his balance righting itself almost unconsciously.

The Manor’s air was cool on his skin, cooler than back home, but no less welcoming. It had the same subtle twinge of security and warmth that had been lacking for most of his life before he made Potter Manor his home.

Though it certainly wasn’t a copy of their Manor. Where the Potters ancestral house was brightly colored and royal looking, the Black’s seemed…darker.

Drapes of dark green curtained the walls of what he thought to be the main hall. The chandelier twinkled silver in the ceiling, casting its glow down upon the emerald green cushions and couches. Just like gold and red seemed to be House of Potter’s theme color, green and silver appeared to symbolize the Blacks.

Yet, he could also see the awkward attempts the Blacks seemed to have done in introducing more colors to the house. The colorful lamps that did not mesh well with their surroundings, the golden carpet that almost looked gaudy in comparison…

Harry wouldn’t claim to be a connoisseur of fashion, but he knew if one’s house looked like a circus, they either had weird tastes or they’d failed in their task horribly…

“Harry!” The first voice to greet his arrival was of Andrea, who quickly came sprinting down the grand set of stairs directly facing the Fireplace.

The other occupants of the house took notice of him as well, first being his muggle studies teacher; Sara Lupin.

She’d been sitting alone on the couch, facing away from him, the roaring blaze of the floor fire alerting her a second before Andrea’s yell filled up the manor.

Harry stopped short as she turned, eyes glinting as he scanned her up and down, surprised to notice how alluring she looked under the silver glow of the chandelier. It may be due to her change in attire—from the loose Hogwarts robes to a body-hugging sweater and black jeans—but he couldn’t help noticing the gentle swell of her breasts, much smaller than Lily but very much visible. And desirable. Very desirable.

Even her face…there was a unique feral beauty and sharpness to her face that he’d never noticed before, especially as she gave him an impish grin in greeting. “Hello, Harry.”

It was a good thing that his poker face was top notch, or he’d be licking his lips in anticipation of this trip.

‘I’ve just got another reason to look forward to it.’

Nonetheless, he greeted back with serene politeness. “Professor Lupin.”

The slightest hints of irritation flared across her face, only to be quickly hidden under a half-smirk. “Please, you’re free to call me Sara, Harry. I insist, in fact.”

He didn’t get the chance to reply as Andrea finally climbed down the stairs, coming to a rushed stop in front of him, her hand quickly taking a hold of his. “We didn’t know you were coming so soon! Uncle James said you’ll all arrive together later!”

A sudden ring of system notification took his attention away from her chatter.

Quest [Horcrux Hunting] in progress!

• Locate and Destroy all the Horcrux!
• ???
• ???

Rewards: 

• 10 levels
• ???
• ???

Harry frowned. ‘Now what the fuck is a Horcrux?’

And why was he being given a quest out of nowhere?

Neither of his questions were given any chance to be answered as his friend—girl-friend?—dragged him up the stairs. “C’mon, this is your first time here! I’ll give you a tour before the others come back!”

He let himself be dragged away, giving an absent nod to the lone beauty who retook her seat. “Sara.”

The smile he received was enough of an incentive for him to start planning for some fun things.

‘Hopefully my sagely self could help me out here.’

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Dorea Potter grumbled under her breath, trying to remember every essential item she must have on this trip. Unfortunately, her annoying little sister simply refused to get out of her mind, bringing an unneeded distraction to an otherwise exciting day.

She almost wished for things to go back to normal, at least the chattering girl would leave her alone then…

'...Okay, maybe not.'

Dorea’s lips twitched, the thought taking a bitter hold on her mind.

She wasn't actually upset about the renewed attention she was receiving from her younger sister. Hell, she might even enjoy the occasional banter.

It's just...why couldn't Rose be more like Fleur!?

Dorea closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to stop her mind from diving into the pitfall. She was trying to change now, bringing back her old way of thinking would do her no good. But it was a difficult thing, to break away from that line of thought, something that had haunted her many a night as she lay awake thinking.

It was an unfair demand, she knew. Everyone was different, and she shouldn’t be feeling bitter that her sister didn’t live up to her expectations. And yet, she couldn’t help but compare her new siblings with the one she got from her foster family.

Fleur had been, in one word, awesome. A few months older than her, the astonishingly beautiful girl had been like an elder sister to Dorea. Without her, Dorea was sure she would never have been able to cope with the pressure of fame and popularity.

Even now, thinking back to those days brought up a wistful smile on her face.

Dorea had already been living with the Delacours when the events of that horrid Halloween night took place. She didn’t know exactly why she was given away before her siblings, though Apolline informed her that it was her mother’s idea; having become good friends with the Delacours through Nicolas Flamel, to whom she was apprenticed under to further her Alchemical knowledge. Lily, Apolline told her, had wanted to leave England the moment Dorea was born. But the war had picked up too quickly, giving them no chance to make a proper move before England found itself isolated from the rest of the world.

Whatever the case, the point remained: On the fateful night of You-Know-Who’s downfall, Dorea Potter had been safe and sound under the roof of the Delacours, away from all the killing and fighting, away from the danger her siblings faced.

Yet, that single night’s events hailed the Potters as one of the most famous families in the magical world.

And that fame, unfortunately, had followed toddler-Dorea to France—even though she’d done nothing heroic.

She’d just been a child then, woefully unprepared for the sudden surge of popularity she received after being identified. Worse though, her fame wasn’t even her own. And she knew this, having to grow up hearing about her wonderful siblings. About the perfect ‘Twins-Who-Lived’, who vanquished the Dark Lord and survived the Killing Curse. Her stardom was simply an after-effect of being related to the Potters; a family that meant very little to her back then.

Yet, everyone acted as if she had some inner insight regarding their lives, especially about her brother who was found missing just a few years later.

Everyone except the Delacours, and that was how Fleur and Apolline became an integral part of her life; setting an example for her to follow and giving directions to a clueless child. For fame was something the Delacours knew quite well about, not just in fostering a Potter child, but also for the astonishing beauty the duo sported. Such was their beauty that more often than not, the male Delacour simply played second fiddle in front of his wife and daughter, his position in the Ministry forgotten with one look at his family.

It was the effortless way Apolline—and thus Fleur—handled their own share of fame that motivated Dorea to copy her family and walk firmly upon their footsteps. From the casual way they brushed off journalists and reporters alike to the contemptuous dismissal they delivered to unwanted presences…they held themselves like Queens—confident and superior—who simply couldn’t be bothered with the rest of the common rabble.

While they’d no doubt left a long line of seething men with their derisive bearing, it had served them well to keep the attention at bay.

And thus, from quite a young age, Dorea had begun learning how to act under the tutelage of Apolline Delacour—alongside her dear sister, Fleur—and not just to shield herself from the vast majority of opportunistic weasels that the Magical World birthed, but also on how to keep the crowd under control.

Unfortunately, it was never meant to last.

The arrival of the day when she would need to go back to her back-from-the-dead family was soon and sudden; plunging her entire world into a storm of uncertainty. She’d been so looking forward to attending Beauxbatons alongside her sister in all but blood, completely prepared to face a new challenge...

But no, she was forced to go back to a country she held no love for, to play nice with a bunch of people she barely even knew. Even putting the mundane challenges—like learning proper English—aside, the fact that almost no one recognized her in this damned country had made her blood boil.

At the start, that had been the only reason for her to look forward to and not despair. The dark excitement of blowing the English wizards off with her unshaking attitude, showing them all that she would not be cowed, and gaining their admiration and respect like Apolline had…

It had been a lone candle in the uncertain darkness.

Yet all came crashing down when she realized…she didn’t need to. She didn’t need to worry about press or fame…because she was nothing in this country in front of her twins. Why would the press care about the mundane Dorea Potter who’d never done anything heroic when there was the ‘Girl-Who-Lived’ standing right beside her? Even more so considering the youngest Potter would readily whip out a striking pose for the cameras, a happy little grin on her face, quite unlike her frigid bitch of a sister.

And it birthed within her an insecurity that she’d never been able to defeat.

Worse though, had to be the hollowness in her heart that her new family couldn’t hope to fill. And the reason was quite simple for her childish mind…

In comparison to Apolline and Fleur, the female side of her new family simply fell short. Sure, Lily might be just as beautiful and respected—perhaps even more desired—but she didn’t have that air of…superiority and royal dominance that Apolline always carried around her like an untouchable shroud. Rose, on the other hand, was simply a gone case; a polar opposite of everything Dorea thought of as qualities in a strong woman.

As for James…well, she’d learned to not pay much heed to Mr. Delacour so respecting a male figure didn’t even cross her mind.

Was it any surprise that she’d been distant to her family then? All her plans, all her dreams and expectations…everything had drowned in the mud with a snap of a finger.

And thus, she reacted to her new situation like she’d trained herself to do; with contempt and dissatisfaction.

The difference was, she didn’t reserve it for the press—whose only interest in her came when Rose was not with her—but for the family who snatched her away from everything that brought her joy.

She was proud to say now that it didn’t last long though. Even she couldn’t stay cold hearted against the love her true parents showered over them. Yes, the insecurity remained. Yes, the bitterness still grew. But she could at least admit that Lily and James were decent people, and downright fearsome against anyone who dared cast a slanted gaze upon their family. More than that, James never seemed to be just there like Mr. Delacour was.

Only here did she realize that something was wrong in the Delacours relationship. Even though Mr. Delacour was the main source of income, he never felt like the one in charge…or even equal. Apolline was always the one who spent that money, she was the one that ran the house, the one who planned the events and ordered the elves. Her husband was, quite frankly, a cowardly mess in front of his wife and daughter.

The Potter couple couldn’t have been further from that, and Dorea had come to respect that.

But that meant the new target of her contempt became the rest of the world. Especially those foolish children in Hogwarts.

She was just beginning to settle in with the Potters—ignoring her annoying little sister—when everything changed once again.

Because then he came.

Harry Potter.

Thinking of Harry sent her heart rapidly beating, a complex ball of emotions brewing inside her that even she couldn’t understand.

His was a face one would never forget....neither would they wish to. One can be considered handsome or pretty—and she’d met plenty of boys in France who fit both categories—yet one could never hope to be as perfect as Harry.

His face was carved from the most beautiful jade granite, cold but perfect, without a single blemish on it, and an angelic countenance with well-defined jaw much beyond his years. His skin looked crystal clear and smoother than silk, something she knew many girls in her class would love to caress. And most would’ve tried to—masking it as teasing a younger student—had they believed they could get away with it without losing their fingers.

With cold emerald green orbs that shone with power, and raven hair that reached his shoulders….Harry could easily top the charts in witches weekly’s ‘most handsome wizard’ competition.

It was enough for many girls in her class—and even more older students—to display an interest that went far beyond his ‘Boy-Who-Lived’ status. The fact that he was a first year—and very much a kid—was easily forgotten, especially with the way he looked and acted, resulting in many of Hogwarts older inhabitants needing to be reminded again and again.

Dorea was pretty sure her new Arithmancy teacher had less than innocent intentions when she tried to ‘subtly’ ask about Harry. She’d felt goosebumps erupt in her arms with the way Professor Vector had purred about her brother’s ‘Exceptional skill with his wand’.

The only imperfection in his appearance came from his scar, yet only a fool would see it as such. That scar was possibly the single most recognizable trait on a wizard in the entire world. It didn’t take away from Harry, but simply added to his mysticism.

But appearances can be misleading, she knew. Had Harry hid behind the perfection of his face, showing no talent of his own, Dorea would’ve convinced herself to dismiss the boy. But no, if anything his looks were thoroughly overshadowed by his rapidly growing skill and power…and the legend that came along with it.

She still remembered that day, feeling his power upon her skin…boundless and terrible, dominating her entire being, rousing a deep need within her that even she couldn’t recognize.

Harry was everything Dorea had ever dreamt of…in a brother! Even on their first meeting, she hadn’t been able to keep a calm heart, quickly making her escape before she did something that would definitely disappoint Fleur and Apolline. Plus, she also had to maintain her cold, icy image.

That first night, she’d slept with a smile on her face, realizing she might no longer be alone in her house. Out of everybody there, her brother shared the most qualities with her, it was easy to conclude they would be depending on each other quite a lot in the coming days.

Well, yeah…things didn’t go according to plan. She’d given him every chance to speak with her, going out of her way to cross his path, and giving no small amounts of opening to start a conversation. Hell, she would’ve even let go of Fleur’s advice of being a snobby bitch the first couple of times a boy starts talking to you….but no. Harry Potter treated her exactly as Apolline would treat a common wizard; with cold dismissal.

It wouldn’t have hurt as bad if she hadn’t witnessed Rose seemingly digging her claws into him effortlessly, completely baffling Dorea.

‘How can someone so similar to me ever hang out with that annoying runt!?’ Had been her lone thought then. ‘How can someone so cold, composed, and confident ever wish to hang around a chatter mouth?’

And yet, it happened. Each day their relationship grew while she seethed alone in a corner, unable to do anything.

But after being ignored by him for almost three months, she'd once again tried to gain his attention. In the only way she knew.

‘By being a bitch.’ A part of her mind whispered, and she found herself unable to disagree.

The harsh words he’d spoken that day, the threats he’d uttered…they all hit so hard because they were true.

An insecure coward.

Dorea flinched, her aimlessly wandering hands coming to a stop.

‘We’ll be better off without you.’

She closed her eyes, tears bubbling behind her eyelid.

Almost a month and yet the words still pricked her heart like the sharpest of needles.

She wagered they probably wouldn’t have been as effective had they come from Rose…or even her own parents.

But Harry…the only one she’d thought might be able to understand her….it hurt.

The worst thing was…he did understand her. Even more than she did.

And he did not like what he saw. He did not like her.

Then again, could she truly blame him?

What had she been all her life but an insecure coward? She hid behind her cold mask to deal with her fame, she let her insecurity brew within her unattended like a little girl; jealous and envious.

‘Never again!’

…Or perhaps he was right. Perhaps it was too late to change. Perhaps the Potters really would be better off without her…

“Dorea!” Her mother’s sudden voice broke her out of her vices. “Honey, we’re late! Come down, quick!”

Dorea shook her head, wiping the few trickling tears with the back of her hand, a sudden warmth spreading through her chest at her mother’s voice.

No. She wasn’t about to give up now of all times. She’d already gone over this whole ball of blame in her head.

That day, when Harry had torn into her being, it had brought with it a unique perspective of life. It had made her confront herself, confront what she’d become….

And she’d realized with a start that she’d unwittingly twisted Apolline’s teachings to suit her own needs. Apolline would never go sneering down random people’s throats. The only targets for her contempt were those fools who dared bother her or her daughters.

And thus, she’d sworn to change. Sworn to be better. And for the most part…she felt like she was succeeding.

The old Dorea wouldn’t be capable of showing her face after being humiliated like that. The old Dorea was too much of a coward to face the world without her sneering mask.

But she? She no longer cared.

There comes a time when you look back at your past self and admit; ’Alright I was being a bitch and deserved that’. Dorea believed her time had simply come early.

And she didn’t regret it. She was a better person now—she hoped—growing past what she’d been.

And isn’t life nothing but a race to grow furthest?

“Dori! I got my green frock! You cannot defeat the might of Slytherin!”

Sighing, she shook her head and stood up, dragging her expandable bag with her. Everything she needed was already packed. It was time to put her past behind and start a new beginning.

Her feet climbed down the stairs, realizing the rest of her family were already gathered in front of the crackling fireplace; their own bags with them.

All except…

“Where’s Harry?” The question left her before she could shut her mouth.

She ignored Rose’s weird look, keeping her eyes locked on her father.

“Already at the Blacks.” Was his answer.

As she approached the trio, her mother lightly patted her head. "Ready, princess?"

Normally this would be her cue to jerk away from her, give a vague huff, and walk off without answering.

Instead, she stilled, giving her a hesitant smile. “Sure.”

“Great.” James clapped his hand, a cheeky grin on his face. “America…here we come!”

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To Harry's great annoyance, his worst fear did come true as the three families managed to reach the London station barely thirty minutes before their boarding time.

Even though the limousine ride failed to deliver a fun experience—what with the adults grumbling about anything they might've missed out (for wizards, they sure were a mundane bunch)—Harry was hoping their upcoming flight might make up for it.

Sure, it might not give him the thrill of being free in the air like his broom, but it should at least give the satisfaction of a new experience, right?

Wrong.

The moment they reached the airport, Harry realized his dream of a peaceful journey was all but gone. They’d arrived too late.

The threat of them all receiving boarding denials was all too real, and he suspected had they not been wizards they would’ve been going back home with their tickets in hand.

But they were wizards. And they also had special permission to fuck over muggles for this one instance—apparently Amelia Black was the head of DMLE, so it wasn’t difficult for her to arrange it so—and so they checked in at the airport at the very last moment, something he was sure would’ve been simply impossible for others, especially on an international flight.

Then they skipped the luggage drop-off entirely, with the help of a couple notice-me-nots—he would be surely learning that later.

Honestly, Harry was very sure even their tickets were fake, and he had absolutely no recollection of making a passport. The overseas missions that he’d undertaken for both Shield and Hydra had always been in private jets and Helicopters.

He rather doubted the other kids had their passports made either, for his midget sister would surely blabber about it to anyone willing to hear.

Then there was the fact how… unique their entry was. With the knowledge that he retained from his Google searches, he knew airplanes were not some flying form of buses; you can’t simply run up and take your seat at the last minute or exact time of departure. The agents had to give a final list of passengers, to calculate the weight and balance of the plane, and it all took time…

And yet, that is exactly what their group of eleven did as they clambered up the plane, adding their names in at the very last moment.

They were soon guided to the first-class section, taking in the plane’s views excitedly like a bunch of hillbillies.

While he curled up in his seat like a ball of boredom, his companions seemed to be reveling in the muggle novelty. First class treatment provided them with the most luxurious treatment one could ever receive on a plane, and his companions were all suitably awed.

“This is so cool!” Midget whispered beside him, a wide grin fixed upon her face since the moment she’d climbed inside the plane.

It was cool, Harry had to admit. He and Rose were sat in a different compartment from adults, along with the other children. The seats provided to them were spacious and comfortable, almost like having a booth of their own.

Yet, it was no replacement for home. Mere four months ago he would’ve been thanking his system for such an arrangement—anything would’ve been better than huddling in a storm—yet now he found himself thoroughly unimpressed. Perhaps he’d gotten too used to comforts of the hearth but being confined in a box, no matter how luxurious, was not how he wished to spend his time.

‘Would’ve been better if we’d just Apparated across the continents.’

Still, it wasn’t as if he could blast a section of plane open and jump away. …Well, he could—especially with his firebolt sitting in the inventory—but he’d rather not.

There was nothing to do but sit back and relax as the plane soon took from the ground. Rose looked mightily queasy, and he could’ve sworn he heard the sound of hurling over the pilot’s instructions, but he soon shut his eyes and his mind, and let himself drift off to the comfort of the plane's gentle sway, hoping to wake up straight at the airport.

--------------------------------------

Thankfully, his wish was granted.

The darkness was just falling when they finally stepped foot upon the American soil.

The LaGuardia airport was decidedly less crowded than he’d been expecting, and the group of magicals managed to safely depart the plane with their luggage intact. Still, it was a new experience for many, and he could see the air of shaky nerves and restlessness—even on the adults, though much more muted—as they discussed their next course of action.

“The hotel we’ve booked is around thirty minutes from here.” James brushed his chin, eyes staring down at a map. “Carlyle or something. It’s close to where Harry needs to go.”

‘The S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, he means.’ Harry mused, approving of the man’s subtlety.

“Harry, look!” The midget beside him exclaimed, pointing at the ‘I heart NY’ sign ahead.

He bonked her in the head and dragged her along before she could infect this country with her weirdness.

They made their way out of the airport, skipping custom with another couple of notice-me-not charms. All three families were bunched together, their luggage light and easy to carry. James and Sirius helmed the group, while Remus and Sara made up the back. The Lupins were the only ones that had decided to not bring their children on this trip, leaving them with Sara’s side of the family instead. The official reason they cited was due to their young age. Unofficially, Harry knew they expected danger.

As the day dwelled on, he’d begun suspecting the other two families of knowing the reason behind this surprise trip. Not in its entirety of course, he knew his parents weren’t that stupid, but they knew enough to know it was dangerous, and it had something to do with him.

Though he got the feeling that Lily had threatened everyone to keep quiet, for neither the Blacks nor the Lupins asked him any details.

He didn’t know how much James and Lily had confided in their friends, but he’d noticed that he was no longer being treated as a child by either family. There was a certain…gravitas, in their eyes, when they looked at him now. Especially Remus, who was probably contemplating the mysterious events of that dueling day.

Harry smirked. ‘Diggory’s fright might start making more sense now.’

There was also a whole lot of curiosity that shone in their eyes every time they made small talks with him. Yet, they kept their gobs shut.

And he didn’t pay them much mind either. While he may be here for business, they were here to have fun.

“Harry’s…friends are supposed to meet us outside.” James informed them, eyes flickering to him. “Though I don’t know where exactly. Will you be able to recognize them, Harry?”

“Wait, you have friends in America?” Andrea asked, eyes wide.

She was ignored.

Harry shrugged. “I’m sure I can.”

“Will you be staying with us, Harry?” Sara suddenly asked from behind.

He glanced back at the woman, a frown making its way on his face. “No.”

She looked strangely disappointed.

What’s gotten into her? She was behaving weirdly today.

“Wait, what!?” Andrea whirled around, scowling with wide eyes. “Where else will you stay!?”

The group grew silent and expectant. Even James and Lily. They weren’t privy to the details of his mission, and he hadn’t yet informed them anything substantial.

Harry smiled. “With my friends.”

That didn’t seem to sate their curiosity. Sadly, they’ll have to make do.

Lily was holding onto Rose and his hands tightly as they finally left the terminal, her eyes carrying an almost paranoid glint; flickering this way and that.

“Lily, relax.” Harry whispered in her ears, noting with annoyance that he was still over four inches shorter than her. “Only fools will attack us here.”

That wasn’t true at all, but he’d rather have her calm than panicked if things went south.

He could feel her squeezing his hand to death, her feelings quite clear. Not that he actually felt her squeeze, she was much too weak for that.

“We’ll have to inform the American Ministry about your presence, Lia.” Sirius muttered, and Harry focused back on the conversation. “More than just a letter, I mean.”

Amelia hummed. “We’ll also have to write letters to other lords about missing this year’s Yule. I think it was House Longbottom’s turn this year, no?”

The question seemed to startle Lily, though her hold did not slacken a single bit.

“Oh Merlin, Alice is gonna throw a tantrum when we get back.”

The ladies shared a laugh while James and Sirius struggled to guide them outside.

Harry lost a few braincells when they turned the map upside-down in hopes to…do something. Something that his mortal mind was unable to comprehend.

It failed.

Thankfully, he managed to spot their query in time.

“Ah, there she is.”

She stood there like a goddess of beauty, desire…and war. There was a coldness in her gaze as she scanned the people arriving outside. A coldness that promised brutal actions and no sympathy.

‘Was I ever like that?’ Harry frowned.

…Of course, he was.

The moment they exited the airport, her eyes instantly snapped at him as if he were a magnet. A smirk worked its way up her face, the coldness losing its intensity. Her eyes sparkled with delightful mischief and teasing, seemingly holding every answer to his questions.

'Did she always smirk like that?' A part of his mind wondered. ‘Why did I never notice it before…?’

“Sweet Merlin…there’s no bloody way…” Sirius’ awed mutter broke his staring.

It was followed by a smack of flesh and a pained grunt. “I didn’t mean it that way, hun.”

Harry led the group forward, eyes quickly taking in the other two field agents alongside her before dismissing them entirely.

‘Observe’

Natasha Romanoff

Age: 23

Level: 28

Reputation: Liked

Affection: 76

‘Fuck yes!’ Triumph brewed within him.

He had absolutely no idea why her affection was barely 4 points away from love, but he wasn’t complaining.

As they approached closer, his eyes scanned her attire. She was wearing a black skin-tight suit that perfectly showed just how huge her tits truly were. A glance to the side for comparison and his guess solidified within him.

‘Definitely smaller than Lily but much bigger than Sara or Amelia.’

He felt a sudden tightening in his pants, his shaft throbbing, almost to the point of it becoming a little…painful.

That did not impede his social skills of course, and he greeted the Black Widow blandly. “Natasha...I didn't expect you to pick me up.”

She shrugged. “I volunteered.”

Harry smirked. “Missed me that much?”

She blinked, tilting her head. “...You've changed.”

Her brows arched down, the mischievous glint intensifying. "And all you needed for that was to go to school. Should’ve done that from the start."

Harry snorted. “Instead of trying to seduce me you mean?”

Behind him, James and Remus swore under his breath. He could’ve sworn he heard a ‘lucky bas…’ before it was cut off by a thump.

But they didn’t matter when the air suddenly dropped to minus 100 degrees. And through the growing coldness, came the dread-inducing voice of his mother. “What did you say?”

Natasha stared back unaffected, eyes flickering to him once, drawing comparison. "You must be his mother.”

She thrust her hand forward. “Natasha Romanoff, a pleasure to meet you."

Lily sniffed. “Lily Potter.”

The two ridiculously gorgeous redheads shook hands, and Harry couldn’t help but let his imagination run…

Two green-eyed redheads…on one bed…

‘Not now head!’ He forced the images down.

If his shaft took its ultimate form now, he had no doubt everyone would be able to see its outline through his clothes.

Something told him he did not want that to happen. Though it could also just be his reluctance in showing his arousal in front of other males.

“…and I must ask you to explain my son’s words.” Lily’s voice broke through his hazed mind as he pushed his rapidly growing desire down.

Natasha shrugged. “I tried to distract him. He tried to kill me.”

Both the redheads turned to him in sync.

Harry blinked. “I don’t recall that. And I won’t have to try if I want to kill you.”

She smirked down at him, eyes scanning up and down as if to remind him of her superior height. “Maybe you can prove that on the mat again.”

With that, she turned around to one of the three SUVs parked behind her. “My apologies, but we’ll have to push the rest of the introductions for some other time. Harry is needed urgently, and I’m told you’ve all made your own arrangements.”

Romanoff waved them all forward as she opened the car door, glancing back once. “You’ll be in the care of these gentlemen. They’ll drive you wherever you may wish to go. I suggest a short tour to start with; I’m sure you’ll enjoy it.”

The plan after reaching New York was for the Blacks, Lupins, and rest of the Potters was to make their way to one of the fancy hotels, quite close to where Shield's headquarters was. Apparently they'd refused the safehouse Shield offered, though Harry didn't blame them. Unlike him, they'd come here to enjoy and have fun.

Well, he would be doing so as well, though their definition of fun and enjoyment was quite different

“Wait, you’re leaving already?” James asked incredulously.

Harry shook his head, “I doubt that. Probably some debriefing. Go. It’s too late already, I’ll meet you all in the morning.”

He started making his way to the black SUV…only to be stopped by Lily’s firm grip. Turning, his eyes took in the desperation within his mother’s gaze. “Please…let me come, at least.”

Harry gently freed himself, before taking a step forward and kissing her cheek. “I’ll be fine, mother. It’s just a single night. We have weeks to waste after my job is finished.”

“I’m coming with you!” This time the stubborn yell came from his sweet midget, teary eyes staring up at his soul. “Pretty please?”

Harry snorted. “No.”

Midget wailed.

Laughing, Harry patted her head before finally heading for the front seat beside Romanoff. “I’ll see you all soon, don’t worry about me. Go take a look around the city. Perhaps I may give you a tour myself tomorrow.”

Lily looked on the verge of crying but thankfully held on together, mumbling a tearful: ‘You better.’

James, Andrea, and the rest bid him an enthusiastic goodbye, and he waved back at them, feeling a little strange. It was almost as if Harry was heading for war.

Soon though, the engine started and Romanoff tore into the darkness of New York, passing cars and buildings alike.

“They care for you.” Romanoff said after a moment of silence, her voice bittersweet and melancholy, missing any form of teasing now that they were alone. “I can see why you changed.”

Harry glanced at her, noticing the sad smile tugging on her lips.

“I’m glad.” She continued. “I tried but…I’m not a good enough replacement for a family. You deserved better. I'm happy you got it.”

Harry didn’t know what to say. He didn’t understand it, but it made him feel unusually hollow.

Suddenly a wave of wisdom hit him out of nowhere as he continued staring at the woman, realizing her life must’ve been quite similar to his.

The difference was; she didn’t have a Gamer System at her side, didn’t have any way to surpass the true giants of this world to ensure her survival, didn’t have a loving family that’ll always have her back, and didn’t have anyone she truly cared for…

She was him, had he been loveless, powerless, and hunted across the world.

And suddenly Harry just…understood her.

“You know...two wrongs cannot make a right.” He found himself saying. “Two broken pieces can’t heal each other.”

She stayed silent.

Harry turned to glance outside the window, seeing but not seeing as the road blurred past beneath them. “But I’ve grown now. Maybe I can help you. Show you what it’s like.”

The silence continued. And for a long moment he believed it won’t be broken again.

Then a small hesitant voice questioned simply, “Can you?”

Harry frowned. ‘Can I?’

Could he? Should he?

He felt the cool wind caress his face, raven hair dancing merrily as the beautiful city of New York passed by them.

There was still a lot he didn’t know. For all his Sagely self, he was woefully ignorant about the emotions of a human. He knew why he changed; knew what a family felt like now: the love, the comfort, and security, and warmth...he knew what they felt like. Though he did not understand them.

Yet, he wasn’t about to give up on his path to ultimate knowledge. So why not?

He turned back to Romanoff, only to realize he already had her attention.

She was studying him. Very closely.

His lips curved up. “I can try.”

Something strange traveled through his chest, wanting to burst out. Something warm and…protective.

Perhaps he was dreaming it, but he felt it echo in her eyes as well.

Her eyes; Moist, trembling, and green…just like his. Something moved within them. Something strange and exciting. “I'd like that.”

They didn’t speak again for the rest of the ride.

It never occurred to Harry that he could’ve used his new mutation right now, if only to know exactly what she was feeling currently.

Perhaps, had he did so, it could’ve all been easier for his future self.

Perhaps, had he learnt more, he could’ve saved himself a lot of sleepless nights.

Yet, as they both sat wrapped in a comforting silence, he felt absolutely no need to break it.

And soon they arrived at the S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, knowing something had changed but still as ignorant as ever.

------------------------------------

The room Natasha led him to was no doubt the most protected in the entire headquarters. The corridors leading to it teemed with Shield agents, alert and waiting, all above Lvl 15. He wagered their combat skills were in their high 50s at the very least.

....And yet, Harry had no doubt that he could infiltrate the headquarters with little to no problem, slaughtering his way one end to the other. The only concern for him would be hidden snipers—unlikely to hide in closed corners—and other super humans.

"Get ready," Natasha warned him quietly as they came to a stop in front of the briefing room. "You're about to meet the upper echelon of Shield."

Ignoring the two guards on either side, she opened the door with a swipe of her card.

"I'm pretty sure I count as one of them now." Harry commented as they entered.

Romanoff offered him a brief smirk before her face smoothened, a familiar coldness entering her gaze as they stepped within the room, gaining the attention of all within.

Harry's eyes skipped past the gathered members, quickly scanning the room for weaknesses. It was a spherical structure, not unlike the headmistress' office, though there was nothing magical about it. Mundane items decorated the pure white walls: maps, lists, mission records, were stuck on a white board, while a large screen hung at the front.

There were five figures already present in the room. Three he recognized; Ares, Barton, and Coulson. One he knew of; Agent Fury. The last one was a woman; older than Melinda, bespectacled, harsh-looking, with a unique charm to her stern features that Harry appreciated.

Victoria Hand

"Sir." Natasha addressed Ares as soon as they presented themselves.  "Agent Potter, as requested."

All eyes turned to him, and not all were friendly.

He didn’t care.

Ares—the one of only two who mattered—smiled in welcome, slightest bit of cheer lighting up his unusually weary eyes. "Harry, it is good to see you. Please, take a seat. I know you’ve just arrived, but this won't take long."

Harry obliged with a shrug, moving to the front.

Beside him, his neighbor turned with a grim smile. "Agent Potter, good to have you back."

Harry nodded back. “Agent Coulson.”

The other three agents simply studied him; one with open curiosity, the other with a harsh glare, and the last with a judgmental stare.

Harry was just happy it wasn't the woman who did the glaring and staring. He'd just realized she had quite a ballooned bust; it would be a shame indeed should he need to kill her.

Barton and Fury, on the other hand, could drown in the gutter together.

Natasha took a seat next to him and thankfully, they seemed to be the last ones, as Ares broached the subject next second.

“I’ve gathered you all here urgently, to discuss a matter which has plagued us for a long time.”

The screen behind Ares lit up, letters in bold proclaiming ‘Mission Budapest’.

With grave eyes, Rogers sighed. “I’m afraid to say there has been a breach in our security. A dangerous breach. Someone in this building was able to access my computer and steal sensitive information pertaining to our upcoming mission.”

The screen warped, now showing a bunch of ‘Access Denied’ notifications with the final one declaring; ‘Access Granted’.

“The traitor that we’ve suspected for long.” The bespectacled woman growled. “They’re in our very midst.”

“Indeed.” Ares nodded solemnly. “And I fear our perpetrator has at least level seven authority. On one hand it makes it far easier to search for them. On the other hand…problems like this arises. Now I have no choice but to move the mission’s date ahead.”

Harry blinked, realizing something. “Could this ‘perpetrator’ be related to Vanchat’s Gulag?”

Ares grimaced. “I’m pretty sure of it actually.”

Harry hummed. "So when do we leave?"

"Tomorrow. We've delayed as much as we can. A day late and we'll lose our query. We have to assume Hydra—or whoever our mysterious enemy is—are already on the move. We cannot delay further.”

Ares’ eyes came to rest on him then. “Harry, you’ll have to get ready for another flight I’m afraid. You may bid farewell to your family in the morning, but we won’t have much time after that. I suggest all of you tidy yourselves up. This is not going to be a pretty mission, the chances of us engaging the enemies have increased from thirty percent to ninety.”

His eyes flickered to Harry again. “And yes, we will need to discuss the contract again. I would’ve given you a blank check had I not known you’ll bankrupt me with a smile on your face. But for now, it is time to rest and recuperate. One of the agents will show you to your room.”

------------------------------------

By the time their meeting was adjourned, the sun had taken its leave from the skies and Harry began making way to his room.

His feet trudged through the silent corridors of S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, eyes taking in the familiar scene with a sense of muted nostalgia. While he hadn’t particularly missed his old suite, there were memories created in there that he remembered rather fondly.

Beside him, the agent leading him to his room cleared her throat not for the first time, looking like a ball of excited energy asking his permission to let loose.

Harry sighed. “Speak, Agent. I don’t bite.”

The woman flushed, though the bright smile on her face didn’t show the slightest bit of embarrassment. “Is it true that you defeated Captain Ares, Sir?”

As the woman turned to him, Harry did his ritualistic scanning of her personage—though lately, when it came to women, his scan was focused more on…impractical things.

Mainly, how big of a pair they might be packing under their tops.

The agent beside him, unfortunately, couldn’t hope to compete with the likes of Natasha or Victoria, and definitely not with Lily. That by no means meant Harry wouldn’t want to peel her uniform off from her front to witness the glory within. She still had a pair of alluring plum-sized bumps on her chest that were too big to fit in his palms.

‘Definitely bigger than Katie or Cho.’

“I mean no offense, of course!” The agent exclaimed, completely misunderstanding the purpose of his deep gaze. “Wasn’t doubting your abilities or anything…just thought it might be a different story from your perspective.”

But while she may not be able to compete in the chest department with the true titans, she could give any actress a run for the money with her Chinese beauty.

‘If Cho manages to look even half as pretty, I’ll have to tie her to my wagon more tightly.’

Harry snorted, finally letting his gaze up.

‘Observe’

Daisy Johnson (Skye)

Age: 20

Level: 14

Reputation: Liked

Affection: 72

His eyes fell on her affection with triumph, a slow smile growing on his face. He didn’t know why most of the women had high affections for him, but he wasn’t one to look the gift-horse in the mouth.

“I won’t claim to have defeated him,” Harry answered, absently debating with himself the side-effects of using his unique skill upon the pretty agent. “But I did force him to utilize help outside the agreed rules.”

“That’s a defeat in my book.” The young woman maintained. “Also, thanks. I’ve been told you hate talking, and to not antagonize you. The way some of the people speak about you here, you might as well have been a demon in human’s skin.”

Harry hummed. “Rumors…have a way to grow beyond the basic truth.”

“Yeah, I get you.” She chuckled bashfully. “When I was first recruited by Shield, I came here expecting to meet an actual God of War. Can you imagine? A grown adult believing those stupid conspiracy theories about Captain Ares. If someone took a look at my mind they'd instantly die from horror.”

The agent’s eyes flickered at him briefly, her neck gaining a deeper blush that made Harry want to leave his personal mark on it.

“I would probably also be arrested though.” She muttered under her breath.

That piqued his curiosity just a bit. It wasn’t surprising for a human to have unlawful thoughts, but the way she acted made him conclude he was the subject of her dirty ideas.

“Can I ask you another question?” The agent asked, shaking away her brief hesitance.

“You already did.” Harry inclined his head. “But very well. Proceed.”

“Is Kara…” She hesitated. “Are you really close to Kara Palamas?”

Harry blinked, the name of his former roommate distracting him from further perving scanning his companion.

For a brief moment the old flames of paranoia burnt within him, making him wonder if the agent could be a mole, here to collect information for Hydra.

‘No. Hydra knows better than that.’

They should know kidnapping someone close to him wouldn’t bring them any success. The only thing that might come out of it is a dead S.H.I.E.L.D agent and an unhappy Harry.

The ones he might be willing to put his life in risk for were all capable of defending themselves quite well.

Shrugging, he decided to answer. “We were not ‘really close’ but we did share rooms for most of my stay here.”

The agent’s mouth puckered up in a perfect ‘O’ that Harry would’ve loved to do bad things to.

He’d been a little hesitant in using his skills against a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, knowing he wasn’t the only supernatural in this building.

But as the beautiful agent nodded her head slowly, her lips still forming the alluring pouty circle, the final bit of reluctance melted away and he let his mutation come to the fore.

[Pheromone Manipulation] Lvl 20

His senses extended towards the agent, studying her emotions in its entirety—something he wouldn’t have been able to do before level 20.

It had been a happy moment for Harry when—after a lot of intense and pleasurable workout—his mutation finally broke into its second decade. One thing he’d quickly confirmed then was that with each 10 levels, his mutation was upgraded to its higher version.

At level 20, not only had it grown more powerful, it had also unlocked a new function for Harry to play with; the ability to sense and manipulate a being’s emotions. Though the manipulation part was currently limited; for while he could sense all the basic emotions from lust and desire to anger and hatred, he could only influence one emotion—apart from sexual desire: calmness.

Calmness, tranquility, peacefulness…

He could, to a limit, either make a person a completely restless mess, or give them a sense of peace even in front of death.

The beautiful agent beside him, for instance, grew ever so slightly panicked as his pheromones went to work in fanning the flames of lust within her. Harry theorized her panic came from this absurd idea of being wrong to lust after a boy too young for her.

Still, he was nothing if not helpful.

He forced upon her an unnatural wave of calmness, a natural enemy of panic.

He could see it all taking place in her eyes; her reluctant attraction turning to lustful guilt, the lust then breathing within her panic, only to be pushed down by the sudden calmness, making her lust shine anew.

“We’re here.” She breathed out, unwilling to meet his eyes now. Her thighs were subtly rubbing against each other, and her breaths came out in quick little gasps, sweat breaking out from her body every time she looked at him.

“If you want any help…” She turned to him reluctantly, their eyes meeting, and found herself suddenly short of words—mouth hanging open.

Harry smiled charmingly. “Would you like to come in?”

Her eyes went wide, legs growing shaky. “S-sorry?”

“You seem tired…” Harry took a step closer, close enough that his breath fell upon her collarbone. “It would be quite careless of me to send you away like this…”

Her entire world seemed to freeze, eyes wide with need and excitement, the wave of guilt and panic still unable to beat the calm, her hand trying and failing from straying downwards…

It was a shame that he was shorter than her by a good few inches, for he did not like looking up at her like so…

Yet, sacrifices must be made. So, pushing down the irritation, he propped himself up on his toes, reaching for her lips, a hand on her waist, caressing the delicious curves through her skin-tight uniform…

‘Yes! This is it! My first adult woman, ready to be conquered!’ A part of him was sad that it wasn’t someone special—the recent memories of redheads coming to the fore—but Harry quickly pushed it aside, his talks with Natasha bringing too many conflicting emotions currently.

It was a part of him  that he didn’t understand. And he felt like he’d just stepped his toe in its unfathomable depth.

Yet, it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered.

For the door suddenly banged open, and all his dreams fell apart like putty.

“Harry!” Came the overly cheerful greeting.

He didn’t turn, desperately trying to shove down the new wave of panic that attacked the agent with full form. Yet, the avalanche was too strong for his tide of calmness to handle….

Panic won.

The agent instantly backed away, face red, eyes wild and fearful…

“I-I’ll see you tomorrow, sir.”

She fled.

Slowly, with an audible growl in his voice, he turned to the door.

And there, grinning like a cartoon, wearing a ridiculous yellow full-body sleepsuit—with long pigtails on its hood—stood the midget of House Potter.

Her grin dropped off quickly, an angry scowl making its way as she stared after the rapidly fleeing agent.

But she need not have worried about her.

“And what,” His voice could’ve stopped global warming on its lonesome. “Exactly, are you doing here?”

Rose flinched, eyes shifting to him. “Wha…? I-I thought…”

“Hmm?” He cocked his head, glaring. “You thought what?”

She wilted, her cheer and anger rapidly dying down into dejection.

Sniffing, she stared at her feet, speaking in a morose whisper, “I thought you’d be happy to see me. I bugged the weird man until he agreed to take me here, and I won a shouting match with mum…”

He tried, really tried, to hold onto his glare. But it just wasn’t possible.

Sighing, he moved past her and into the room, feeling like he’d just thrown a crippled puppy in the gutter to drown. And no matter how annoying the puppy may be, it didn’t deserve to die.

Harry sighed again, glancing at the girl. “I would’ve been happy, had you not ruined my prospects of scoring a big hit tonight.”

“I’m sorry.” Her quiet voice mewled, two quick sniffs following after.

Harry closed his eyes, his arousal still hard against his pants. It was almost painful how constricted his shaft felt being stuck inside in its alive state.

This wasn’t his first time experiencing it, but it was still a little weird all the same. The part of his body that he’d always thought was useless was now becoming more and more powerful each day. The first time it had happened, Harry had freaked out at its size, realizing there was no way for it to fit in his underwear anymore. He was forced to cut short his snogging time with Katie and quickly find a bathroom to enlarge his garment just so he could walk properly.

This time, he didn’t have the luxury as the midget stood beside him.

Harry sighed. “It's fine, Rose. Now close the door and come on.”

The girl was still dejected and it took a couple of well-placed head pats from him, and a kiss to the cheek, to finally cheer her up.

But once she did cheer up, there was no stopping her renewed energy as she stood up and gave a twirl in the air, giving him her special midget-grin. “How do I look!?”

The yellow sleepsuit, he now realized, was a bunny themed costume; with a small bushy tail protruding from her behind.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Like you always do, sister; stupid.”

‘Stupidly cute.’ A traitorous voice corrected.

She pouted, and his attention went to her moist lips that she regularly licked to keep the dryness of winter away.

He had to admit, her lips looked more delicious than either Cho or Katie’s. Still, he wouldn’t want to demote his sister to his girlfriend, so he refrained from putting her through his mutation’s ministration.

The ball of energy finally seemed to be drained as she threw herself on his bed, hands spread wide. “So…”

She propped her head up to look at him.

Harry quirked an eyebrow. “So?”

“Who was that blonde bimbo?”

Harry snorted, throwing her to one side—ignoring her indignant squawk—as he laid down himself. “My new girl-friend. Or at least, she was supposed to be until you drove her away.”

Rose frowned, eyes narrowing, though he could pick up hints of anger and jealousy. “Aren’t you dating Cho?”

Harry frowned, confused. “Dating? You mean like snogging and feeling up her nonexistent tits? Yeah, I guess I’m dating. Though I prefer Katie over her.”

She gawked at him, cheeks flaring up red. “…you’re dating both of them then?”

Harry nodded. “They’re both my girl-friends, who I like to experiment some adult stuff with.”

“Why do you need another one then?” Rose asked, her voice unusually quiet.

Harry gave her a weird look before shaking his head. “They aren’t here, are they? I need someone to practice my skills on.”

Again, Rose stayed quiet for a long moment, before slowly, hesitantly, crawling to his side of the bed.

“What about me?”

Harry raised an eyebrow.

“W-well…you can use me if you want.” She mumbled. “You know…like how you used to practice spells on me.”

Harry’s eyes went to her lips again, the small, succulent, red lips, waiting to be tasted…

Harry frowned. ‘Why not?’

Still aroused and rearing, Harry stopped asking questions and gave a shrug. “If that’s what you want.”

Rose gave a yelp as he dragged her towards him, holding her body close before getting to work.

Their lips met as she sat on his lap; petrified. She tasted of honey and syrup, moist and fresh and sweet. A shock of electricity went through them both as Harry gently sucked upon her lips, not wanting to shove his tongue down her throat yet for some reason.

When they separated, he was greeted by two wide green eyeballs, looking so filled with joy, wonderment, and awe that he almost felt like she’d been drugged.

"So...does this mean I'm your girlfriend too?" She whispered excitedly.

Harry frowned, pushing her back. "Of course not, you're my sister."

Rose’s tiny shoulders slumped down. "Aww...do you really care about that stuff though? We’re wizards, you know? We can do this kinda stuff. I read somewhere that it’s allowed for us."

Harry blinked, even more confused. "What stuff? I'm simply saying you cannot be my friend and sister both. You will surely need to relinquish one title?"

"Who says so?" Rose whined.

Harry tilted his head sideways. "Logic."

"Well your logic is busted. My logic says I can be your sister and girlfriend!"

Harry snorted. "Logic is universal, you cannot change it, anymore than you can change your gender. Still, I can see the wisdom in your words. You're already a girl, so as long as you can become my friend as well, it might work out."

Rose blinked owlishly, before hesitantly whispering, "I don't think that's how it works. A girlfriend is…it means something different.”

Harry frowned. "What? That is certainly what a girlfriend means. A more specific role to a friend."

He'd never seen Rose look as bewildered as currently. "What about Andrea then? Is she not your girl-friend too? And Tonks? And all your female quidditch friends?”

Harry tilted his head curiously. “I…believe they are, yes. Why won’t they be? They’re all girls, and my friends. Well…I don’t consider most of them friends, but they do so to me.”

“What’s the difference between Cho and Andrea then?” Midget pressed.

Harry shrugged. “One, I’ve already seduced. The other is pending. Work in progress, if you will.”

Rose started muttering something inaudible under her breath, before looking up with exasperation. “I think there’s a very big gap in your social skills, brother dear. And as much as I’d like to be the one to educate you, I’d rather just leave it to mother. So for now, just push me down and kiss me.”

Harry was only too glad to agree.

After all, if he was to go upon a dangerous mission tomorrow, he wanted to be as thoroughly prepared as he could be.

Which also meant satisfying his urges so he may feel…peace.

…Ok, that was a load of bull. He just wanted to snog, and Rose felt perfect under his arms.

But as he lay wide awake, gazing up at the ceiling, his precious twin snoring lightly upon his chest….he wondered.

He wondered why kissing felt so good. Why women were beginning to take a much bigger role in his life. Why he felt the need to seduce every beautiful girl around him…

And then he wondered why he said what he did to Natasha, why she believed his words, and why he believed it himself…

As the gentle silence worked its magic on his brain, lulling him into its embrace, Harry slept wondering about redheads, big boobs, green-eyes…and the strength he needed to secure and conquer them.

Strength only his system could provide…no matter his recent doubts about it.

The world may be changing, but Harry wasn’t about to be left behind. And if he wanted to keep his hold on all these things, he needed strength. As much strength as he could get.

This mission, he hoped, could give him that strength. Along with the redheaded, green-eyed, big breasted goddess.

He wanted them both...he wanted it all.

…And he shall get it all. One way or the other.

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AN: Holy. Fucking. God!!!!! This chapter took the longest time to get out. 10 freaking days. My sincerest apologies. Won't happen again, promise.

Anyway, let me know what you thought! Harry's growing distrust over his system, Dorea's pov, Harry/Natasha moment, and finally....some twincest!  The last two povs weren't beta'd by anyone tho, so if anything feels off let me know. Now the next chapter will finally take us to the mission, and we're about to venture into new territory soon.

Also, the next chap (MGO Ch.34) will come on 13th. Taking 5 days cause the next part is gonna be big. And fun. Very fun.

Well, let me know your thoughts, and I'll see you all later. Goodbye and peace!