18

Chapter 17

Harry kept his breathing slow and steady as he regained consciousness. His head was throbbing abominably, and his wrists ached where they were tied above his head, the shooting pains running down his arms letting him know he'd been out for a couple of hours at least. He was dangling from his hands, his toes barely able to touch the floor, and the weight of his body dragging on his arms was sending bolts of agony through shoulders that felt stretched to the edge of dislocation.

He was also naked.

He sighed silently. His Hounds were going to be unbearable, and he was going to have to listen to them bitching and moaning about this every time he tried to take a piss with the door shut, he just knew it.

Stretching out his senses, he tried to get a feel for the room he was in, and any unexpected company he may have in it. As near as he could tell, he was in an empty corner of a mechanics workshop or similar. He could smell dust and fuel, hints of grease and hot metal.

There was a faint breeze coming from the left, but from its slightly stale smell he thought it was air conditioning from further inside the building. He strained his ears, and could barely make out the sounds of traffic; nothing heavy, but a regularly used road. He couldn't detect anything from further inside, but he knew that didn't really mean anything.

As he cracked his eyes open the faintest bit, he could see someone sitting in a chair a handful of meters away, watching him with an expression of boredom. He couldn't be certain in the half light, but he thought it was the man who had taken Mama Andrews - that they'd identified as Michael Foster. Interesting.

He must have given some sign that he was awake, because his observer raised an eyebrow.

"Awake then? Good. I was getting tired of waiting for you to rejoin us."

Deciding there was no benefit to playing possum, Harry raised his head, but adopted his Tiny persona. It had taken Shot two months to figure out that he was actually Vahan, so he didn't think it likely that anyone else had put it together.

"What do you want? Where am I?" His eyes were opened wide and he made himself look as young as possible.

The man smiled nastily. "Well, Tiny, word on the street is that you're the key to getting access to your boss. And my boss, he wants a word. Vahan has been getting a bit too big for his britches, and has been interfering with business." He shook his head in mock sadness. "Nothing against you kid, but I hope you suck cock as well as Peterson bragged, because you're going to be doing a lot of it from now on. Mr McKinnon has decided that you're too pretty to dispose of, so he's going to keep you and the rest of Vahan's baby sluts as compensation for business disruptions. After he tortures your boss to death, of course."

Blinking slowly, Harry wondered if this guy was just really lonely, or thought that he had to prove he was a bad guy by monologuing like one.

Groaning heavily, Harry allowed his head to drop backward, using the dramatic movement to glance around the room. He'd been right, he was in a mechanic's workshop.

"You want to use your peanut dick on me in some pathetic attempted to soothe your ego over your inability to attract someone on your own merits, fine, get on with it. But if you're going to keep with the bad guy ranting, then please, kill me now."

The man stood with a snarl, stepping closer. Drawing back, he launched a punch at Harry's vulnerable stomach, leaving the boy choking and gasping to reclaim the air that had been forced violently from his lungs.

"Mouthy little brat, aren't you."

Harry smiled around gritted teeth. "Just how Daddy liked it. Said I had a smart little mouth, and a talented tongue. Just perfect for all sorts of uses!"

The man chuckled lightly, his eyes roaming over Harry's exposed body. "I'll bet. I look forward to getting to know the back of it intimately. I'm going to get to know it real well."

Internally, Harry was rolling his eyes. Honestly, this loser couldn't be more cliché if he tried!

"Yeah, well, I'm sure your boss wants to talk to me before you gag me with your clit, sorry, I meant your huge veiny and very masculine prong of doom, so why don't you run along like a good little lackey and tell him I'm awake?" Harry mentally winced. The hit to the head must have been harder than he thought, he was having trouble concentrating enough to remember which persona he was supposed to be using right now. He could feel himself slipping between the more softly spoken Tiny and his usual foul mouthed vitriol as Vahan. Given the throbbing at the back of his skull, he assumed he had at least a mild concussion, since it was unlikely they'd drugged him if they wanted answers.

Scowling, the man walked over to a phone mounted on the wall, and dialled, the handset pressed against his ear.

"He's awake, Boss. Mouthy little shit, too. Want me to soften him up a bit before you get here?" He listened for a moment, mouth drawn down in disappointment. "Yes, Boss."

Replacing the handset, he sullenly resumed his seat, eying Harry darkly.

Harry kept his amusement carefully hidden. So they were going to play it like that, were they? Tiny was Vahan's closest, and they thought he would be so easily manipulated? Pathetic.

His musing was interrupted by the door opening and two men walking in. The suit was huge and looked about as intelligent as a concussed rock, taking up a guard position; the other, who Harry assumed was McKinnon, wore dress pants, and a button up shirt covered with a knitted vest. Harry thought he looked like a middle aged man who had never left his frat boy days, especially with the thinning black slicked back hair. The softening middle didn't help at all.

"You must be Tiny. I apologise for my associate's poor treatment; he can be a little over enthusiastic at times." Turning to Harry's original abductor, he frowned slightly. "Let him down Foster, and for goodness sake, give the poor boy his clothes."

Harry winced as he was lowered to the ground and his binding released. Rubbing his wrists, he waited for the pins and needles to fade before lightly massaging his strained shoulders. He ran a hand down his bare forearm, and silently berated himself for leaving the house without his wand. He deserved the arse kicking Sergei and Alex were going to give him for being so foolish.

Shuffling to his feet, he pulled his clothes back on while playing up his fear, particularly of Foster. Patting over his pockets, he scowled at the men.

McKinnon looked faintly amused. "I'm sure you can understand why we would confiscate your weapons, but I assure you, you will not require them."

Nodding, Harry sullenly wrapped his arms around his ribs, hunching slightly. His head lowered and eyes hidden by his fringe, he glanced around, absorbing as much detail as possible. He could hear Dave faintly in the back of his mind, whispering instructions.

Observe your surroundings. What can you use to defend yourself? Where are the exits? Wait for your opportunity, strike, and get the hell out. Don't try to be a hero. Hero's get dead. Strike like the little viper you are, and come back to finish them off on your terms. And then steal their wallet.

"Foster, make yourself useful and go get us something to eat. Roast beef and gravy rolls, I think, from the place on the corner. Chips and drinks too. That alright with you, Tiny?" McKinnon glanced enquiringly at Harry.

Shrugging, Harry shuffled nervously in place.

Scowling, Foster stalked out of the room, muttering about being treated like an errand boy.

Harry watched in hidden amusement, fighting to stifle the twitching of his lips. They had clearly played this game before, and their acting was rather well done, if a trifle obvious.

"Please, sit. Can I get you anything while we wait?" McKinnon smiled winsomely, and gestured to the metal folding chair Foster had been using.

Harry hesitated, then moved to the chair, plonking onto it unceremoniously, his arms still locked tightly around his ribs.

"Now, I'm sure you want to know why I wanted to talk to you, yes?" McKinnon gave what he clearly thought was a fatherly smile, crouching down to Harry's eye level. "Your boss and I have had a couple of business conflicts, and I want to meet with him so we can talk it out. Do you think you could tell me where to find him?"

Harry have him a flat look, the throbbing in his head increasing in line with his irritation.

"I may be young, Mr McKinnon, but I am not your average idiot child. I'd appreciate it if you would stop condescending to me." His eyes blazed an eerie green as he sneered at the man squatting in front of him. "And if you think for one second that I would betray Vahan, you're even stupider than you look. Quite the accomplishment, let me assure you."

McKinnon eyeballed the boy for a long moment before sighing in mock sadness. "Well, I suppose we can skip the niceties then." Standing, he motioned his guard closer. "John, if you would?"

Moving forward, the mountain cracked his knuckles threateningly. He loomed over the boy, an ugly sneer on his face. "Boy, this will go a lot easier on you if you just start talking."

Harry's head was buzzing and he had trouble focusing, the world around him fuzzing in and out. He glanced up, seeing a huge man standing over him threateningly and calling him boy, and something in him snapped.

He was back at the Dursley's, Vernon about to hit him. But this time was different. This time, Harry had hours upon hours of training with his Hounds. This time, Harry wasn't a scrawny malnourished runt. This time, he was Vahan. Lashing out with his foot, he nailed the man in the groin, throwing himself to the side and off the chair. Grabbing the backrest, he swung it, smashing the lowered head of the thug as he doubled over with pain and clutched his damaged jewels.

McKinnon took one look at his now unconscious guard and lunged for the alarm button next to the phone.

Harry snarled and tackled him to the ground, throwing a flurry of wild punches into the yielding flesh beneath him.

Grunting, McKinnon shoved the flailing hellion off him, scrabbling as he tried to fight his way to his feet.

Harry twitched as he heard scuffling at the door. Oh goodie, guards. He lunged away from McKinnon, snatching up a large wrench and a stanley knife from the bench next to the door. He spun as the door opened and two men ran through.

The first man fell to a blow from the wrench on his temple, blood splashing wetly against Harry and the wall. His body collapsed limply into his companion with the side of his skull caved in, knocking the second man off balance as he instinctively tried to catch him. Harry continued his movement, ducking low and slashing the Two's Achilles Tendon as he swept past. Spinning on the ball of his foot, Harry swept the wrench down to cave the hobbled man's skull, his other arms slashing up and across the eyes of a third man coming through the door. The wrench slipped from Harry's hand, flying across and hitting McKinnon square in the face, knocking him out cold.

Harry giggled.

Screaming, Three clutched at his ruined eyes, and tripped over the corpses in the doorway, falling on top of Harry before he could dodge out of the way and knocking the stanley knife from his grasp, sending it skittering along the floor and under a bench.

A fourth man jumped over the squirming tangle of bodies, running to McKinnon's side and checking his pulse. Assured that his employer was still alive at least, he turned to Harry and his comrade who were still struggling on the floor.

Dropping to one knee, he tried to grab Harry's hands, intending to restrain him while they sorted out what was going on. Unfortunately for him, Harry kept one hand free. Grabbing the man's flick baton from his utility belt, Harry used the flicking motion to smack Three in the face, the brought it up to collect Four under the jaw, knocking him out.

With a snarl, Three managed to pull a handgun from his own belt just as Harry scrambled free, cursing the pain in his arms for making him weak and slow. Aiming wildly, the man shot at where he thought Harry was, missing the boy entirely but hitting the oxygen bottle for the oxy torch.

Harry's eyes widened in alarm, and he dove behind some metal sheets with a yelp, wincing when he heard the breached bottle and the ones surrounding it explode. Shrapnel peppered the metal he was hiding behind, pinging off harmlessly and he smirked viciously as he smelled cooked meat. Hopefully they hadn't gotten under cover in time.

Shuffling along on his hands and knees, he emerged out the other end of the sheet metal, only to feel the muzzle of a gun pressed against his head. Cursing mentally, he looked up at a new guard, one who must have come in after he'd had to give up bottlenecking the others in the doorway.

"Stand up, slowly." Five growled.

Harry shimmied free of the metal and stood up, hands raised. Five took a half step back, keeping the gun trained on the flushed boy.

Harry sighed, then lunged forward, bringing his elbow down on the inside of Five's, and twisting the hand holding the gun up and under the man's chin. He smirked, slipping his smaller finger inside the trigger guard and firing, the bullet tearing through Five's head and exiting through the top with a messy splatter.

Pulling the gun free from Five's limp fingers, Harry ignored the mess in his hair and looked around for his next target. He pouted slightly when he realised that only McKinnon and Three were still alive. McKinnon had been shielded from the blast by his mountain - who now looked charred and somewhat pulpy. Three was not in good shape, eye ball juice and blood running down his face, and shrapnel wounds and burns all over. Even if Harry left him, he wouldn't survive the next hour.

Harry shrugged and tucked the gun in the back of his waistband, fishing around under the benches until he located the stanley knife again. Humming a bouncy little tune, he set to work.

Harry had just finished playing with Three and was eying a conscious and kneeling McKinnon when his Hounds arrived. Alex's mutter of "bloody hell, it looks like the aftermath of a Greek tragedy in here" sent the concussed boy into fits of laughter, which subsided to random chuckles at the expression both men wore.

Surprisingly, it was Sergei who began the verbal lashing.

"For fucks sake, Boss. We spent hours working out a plan of entry, and what the fuck do you do? Ignore it all and go in on your own! Why the fuck couldn't you have waited until one of us got home before you got yourself kidnapped?" The Russian snapped, his accent thickening slightly in his fury.

Harry pouted. "Yes, because I deliberately wasted everyone's time and effort! How the fuck did you get inside anyway?"

Alex smirked. "We followed Foster through the front door." He held up a plastic bag of food. "Hungry?"

Harry laughed. "Maybe later. Got a concussion from where the fuckhead knocked me out, I want Marcel to check me over first."

Alex nodded with a faint smile, then turned his attention to the man on his knees in front of his boss. "What are we going to do with him?"

Harry tilted his head, absently licking a drop of Three's blood from his lip. "I'm feeling inspired by history."

The Hounds both raised curious eyebrows.

"Oh?" Alex questioned. He knew his boss, this was going to fun.

"Mm. I was in a church the other day, and the minister was talking about this guy called Jesus, who preached forgiveness and turning the other cheek."

"And this inspired you?" Sergei grunted sceptically.

Harry grinned wolfishly. "Yeah. He was crucified, and I want to try it."

Their arrival back at The Nest with Mama Andrews, Alice and five children aged between six and thirteen was hectic, to say the least.

Marcel and Shot took over, hustling the sedated bodies into the infirmary, leaving Harry and the Hounds to face down a practically foaming Captain.

Connor peered briefly around the corner of the playroom, before ducking back in to keep the other Nestlings out of the way. Harry made a mental note to spend some one on one time with him soon. The kid had been doing really well lately.

Captain opened his mouth to rant, only for Vahan to smirk and tilt his head cutely.

"We brought you a present," he sang lightly. The thump of Foster hitting the ground at the soldier's feet was met by stunned silence.

Captain looked from the unconscious man at his feet to the smug trio waiting for his response. "Aw, you shouldn't have!"

Harry pouted playfully. "Well, if you don't want him, we'd be happy to have him back. After all, he did abduct Mama Andrews and me. I have a concussion and everything!"

The positively bloodthirsty look Captain directed at his present was enough to send Harry into peals of laughter again, which earned him a strange look from his Hounds.

"Boss," Sergei interjected delicately. "Perhaps you should have Marcel check out that concussion."

Harry looked up with wide green eyes glistening. "No no no! I have to give Captain the second part of his present first!" He handed the soldier a box, which when gingerly opened revealed a pair of pliers and a blowtorch.

Captain looked at them with an expression that indicated he might like some alone time with his gifts.

Sergei rolled his eyes. "Alright, will you go to the infirmary now?"

Waving a hand dismissively, Harry moved out of the entryway and down the hall to his office. "I will, before I go to sleep. I want a shower first; I have brain goop and crunchy bits in my hair, and they're starting to dry."

Sergei grinned. "Aren't you glad we came when we did?"

Harry rolled his eyes, wincing slightly as it exacerbated his headache. "Yes yes, you rescued me from a house full of dead men, you're very brave. Now make yourself useful and change the fucking doorknobs. Oh, and tell Shot I want to see her, and Connor not to make plans for this evening."

Sergei and Alex exchanged sheepish glances when Connor stuck his head back into the room.

"Why do you need to change the doorknobs?" He asked curiously.

Alex muttered something unintelligible about lever handles being a security risk, and stalked off down the hall, a glowering Sergei prowling behind him.

Harry stared pensively at Shot, putting aside the report he'd been pretending to read.

"I thought you said Alice was your little sister."

Shot frowned slightly. "She is. She's five years younger than me. Why?"

The boy shrugged slightly, his gaze roving thoughtfully over his newest employee. "She looks older than you. You're what, sixteen? She looks in her early twenties."

The lithe girl scowled, crossing her arms huffily. "She's sixteen. I'm twenty one."

Harry's lips twitched in faint amusement. "That's going to annoy the hell out of you, isn't it. That everyone will think she's older and that you're barely even legal yet."

Shot merely flipped him off and stalked toward the kitchens, intent on harassing the elves into providing her with one of her strange smoothie concoctions that turned everyone else green.

Alex frowned slightly as she left, turning to Harry. "When she was talking about her sister, I expected her to still be a little kid, not a teenager. Did you know?"

Harry shrugged slightly, and jiggled a piece of string for the kitten to chase. "Well, she suggested that Alice be Nest Mother, so I assumed she would be old enough to divert attention if anyone came sniffing. But no, I didn't know specifically how old she was."

Alex nodded thoughtfully, then turned his attention to the kitten who was doing her level best to kill the evil string. "Have you decided on a name for her yet?"

Humming cheerily, Harry nodded. "Remember when I was playing Halo with Daniel, and you commented that the Warthog looked more like some sort of big cat?"

Alex closed his eyes ruefully. "And you asked what kind, and I replied that it looked kind of like a puma."

Grinning, Harry flicked his green eyes at his companion. "And so, I shall call her Warthog."

Alex whined at the thought of such a beautiful creature having such an undignified name. "But why Warthog?"

Harry blinked back at him, his expression faintly puzzled. "Because M12 LRV is too hard to say in conversation." With that, he scooped up the kitten, and walked out the door to go check on his newest Nestlings and spend some time with his boy.

"Did they hurt you?"

Harry and Connor were alone in Harry's room, curled up on the thick fur rug in front of the fire and roasting marshmallows in the cheerily crackling flames.

"In the sense that boredom can be painful, yes." Harry grinned at the younger boy, relaxing back on one elbow.

Connor grinned back, stuffing a melted marshmallow in his mouth and talking around it. "I would have been so scared! I can't believe you fought them off like that! Will I be able to do that one day?"

"If you work very hard and listen to what the Hounds tell you, probably. That's not to say you should go looking for trouble, but if you're in it, you should do whatever you need to in order to get out of it."

Playing with an auburn curl, Connor chewed his lip as he thought. "Hey, Sir?"

Harry grunted absently as he tested his latest marshmallow for optimal toastiness. "Mm?"

"I'm going to be staying with you, right? Dad said that he thought it would be best if he wasn't looking after me right now."

The older boy scowled darkly. "I would have preferred he not discuss that with you just yet. I asked him to give it some time before making a firm decision, but I suppose this was his way of forcing the issue." He sighed heavily and sat up, meeting Connors anxious hazel eyes. "Yes, even if your father hadn't asked, I wouldn't have let you go. Remember those papers I signed at the hospital? Well, they mean that I'm your guardian, and because I have magic and your father doesn't, it means that I have more say than he does where you're concerned, even though he's your father." He eyed the boy, noting the signs of agitation. "What is it you really want to ask, Connor?"

The little boy looked up at his idol, desperation poorly hidden. "So, you actually want me then? You're not just doing this because Dad doesn't want me anymore?"

Harry looked at his ward sadly, remembering his own desperation to have someone who wanted him, back before the realities of the world had crushed what little heart he'd had. He reached out and gently gripped Connor's chin, making sure their eyes were locked.

"I want you here. You are wanted. Your father still loves you very much, and he wants what's best for you, even if that isn't him right now. But no matter what, from the moment I signed those papers, you were mine. And I will never let you go. If you run, I will find you. If you are taken, I will hunt them down and bring you back. And if they hurt you, I will burn the world to ashes to exact revenge. Do you understand?"

Connor nodded tearily and launched himself into Harry's arms, sniffling into the older boy's shirt. "Thank you, Sir. I promise I'll work really hard so you never have to regret taking me in!"

Harry hugged his boy tightly, stroking a few random curls from his face where they were tickling his nose. "I appreciate it. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully, if you keep going the way you have been."

They remained like that for several minutes, before Connor sheepishly drew back, embarrassed to have cried all over his hero.

"You know you're different to the other Nestlings, right?" Harry asked casually.

Connor looked up curiously. "What do you mean? Is it 'cos I wasn't hurt like them?"

Harry smiled faintly. "That too, but that wasn't what I meant. There are several things that make you different, and I suppose now is as good a time as any to go over them and answer any questions you have." He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. "Firstly, you have magic, and they don't. I know you've kept that a secret from the other kids, and I'm very happy about that." He gave a quick smile and was gifted a beaming grin in return. "I have another house set aside for any magical children I end up taking in. We call it The Haunt, and the children living there will be called Ghosts."

"Like the ones living at The Nest are Nestlings?"

Harry nodded with an approving smile. "That's right. Now, once everything has settled down with Mama Andrews and we've sorted the new Nestlings, you and Marcel will be moving to The Haunt. I'm going to offer the Andrews a place there too, but I haven't asked them yet. The Ghosts and Nestlings will have some lessons together, but for the most part you'll be taught different things. I'll be stopping in regularly to spend time with all of you though, and I'll be teaching some of the more practical lessons."

Connor perked up. "Like what?"

Grinning, Harry shifted so he was leaning back against the couch. "You'll have to wait and see." He laughed when Connor pouted.

"You sound like you won't be living at The Haunt with us." The little boy questioned softly after a momentary pause.

Harry shook his head. "I won't be. I'll be at Sanctuary or Fortress most of the time, but you will have a way to reach me at any time, outside of mobiles or the like."

Tearing up slightly, the smaller boy whined. "Why can't I live with you? You said you wanted me!"

"Because what I do, it isn't safe to have anyone around me regularly that can't defend themselves. You may be getting good, but you've got a long way to go before you can stand up to the sort of people I deal with most days. When you're older and have proven you can handle yourself, then you'll join me full time. Do you understand?" He waited for a nod of acknowledgement, and noted with pleasure the spark of stubborn determination in his boy's eyes. "Good. Now, the next thing that makes you different from the rest of the kids. You will be taught how to run my business if something happens to me. And I will expect you to train your replacement when you find the right person."

Connor frowned. "Like an heir? But you're only a little older than me. Why would you make me your heir?"

Harry smiled fondly. "Because you're mine, and people in my line of work don't tend to live out their full life expectancy. Yes, having a larger age gap would be better, but we work with what we have."

Shrugging in acceptance, Connor yawned slightly. "You don't treat me like the other kids, either."

Curious, Harry raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?" He knew perfectly well that he didn't, but he wondered what Connor had observed and his thoughts on the matter.

"You look after the other kids, but when you smile, your eyes are still cold. You don't do that with me. When you smile at me, your eyes sparkle bright green and they get little crinkles at the sides. You spend time with just me sometimes, but you don't do that anywhere near as often with them, and never as long. Most of the one on one times with just them are lessons, but you just hang out and play with me sometimes. I don't think the other kids have really noticed that you treat me different though; you pretend really well."

"Does it bother you that I don't see them like I see you?"

Connor shook his head sleepily, curling up on the couch. "No. You said I'm special, and you still treat the other kids really good. They all love you, and they feel like you love them. They don't need to know you're faking it, and I'd never tell."

Harry smiled in fond amusement as his ward dropped off to sleep almost mid-sentence, and gently picked the smaller boy up after casting a featherweight charm. Carrying him into the boy's room, he gently set him into the bed and tucked him in, smoothing the hair back off his forehead. He paused and watched the boy sleeping for a few minutes, noting the relaxed look and childishly pouted lips parted as he breathed steadily. He looked around and grabbed Connor's favourite teddy, tucking it gently under his arm before quietly leaving the room and walking into his office, his heart warmer than it had been in years.

He settled at his desk, shuffling through the preliminary reports on the kids they'd rescued that afternoon. They didn't have much yet, but at least these kids had been relatively well looked after compared to the first lot. There was the expected damage from their occupation, but otherwise they were in excellent health. Small mercies, he mused.

Snapping his fingers, he summoned his personal elf. "Jinky," he murmured softly. "Are all the children asleep?"

"Yes, Master," Jinky answered just as quietly. "All the Nestlings are in bed and asleep. All the new children are healed but are still asleep until you are ready to talk to them."

"And the Andrews?"

"In their rooms. Master Healer said that Madam Andrews could leave the infirmary."

Harry nodded absently, lightly massaging his temple. "Alright. Can you ask the Hounds, Marcel, and Shot to join me here? And bring us warm drinks and some light snacks afterwards, please."

Jinky bowed slightly and left with a quiet pop.

A scant few minutes passed before his people joined him. Marcel immediately began scanning and fussing over his tiny employer, muttering under his breath about stupid boys who didn't respect all the effort that had been spent patching them back together enough to get their concussion seen to promptly.

Harry tolerated his bitching and fluttering, calmly making a cup of tea and helping himself to some finger sandwiches when Jinky popped in with a tray bigger than the elf was.

"Now, anything anyone want to discuss that doesn't need the Andrews to join us? Their debrief can wait until the morning, since I'm sure they'd appreciate some time together before being pestered."

"I'd like to know what you plan to have me doing, since you've told me I'll be part of your regular entourage." Shot piped up, her mouth full of half chewed… something.

Harry shuddered slightly and looked away from the appalling sight. "Information retrieval primarily. Building files on people that you think I should be aware or that I bring to your attention. I'll also have you erasing any trails that could lead people to me or finding out what I don't want them to. Is there anything else you'd like to do?"

The girl lit up, beaming even as she fished bits of food out of her teeth with the tip of her tongue - an action that made the men present cringe.

"I like to make stuff. I can blend tech and magical items. Like, um, hold on a sec." She ran from the room, taking care to step lightly and not wake the children. In moments she was back, her face flushed with pleasure as she handed over a narrow leather cuff to Harry.

He looked at it, raising an eyebrow in question when he couldn't see anything unusual about it.

Shot pointed to some small indents patterned around it. "See these? They're actually tiny magical pouches. When you put something in it, like, say, a potion bottle, it will just appear like a small stone or bead on the cuff. You just tap it with your finger and it will be ejected from the hollow on demand. Obviously you key it to your magical signature so that nobody else can get your goodies. It's also designed to hold your wand, concealing it the same way. It will just look like a bead, and it means you don't have to have it strapped to your forearm. I was thinking if I add a notice me not type charm to it, and make sure that it can't be removed by anyone else as well, then it might be useful to you."

Sergei raised his eyebrows, impressed. Taking it, he pulled his wand and cast a couple of diagnostic charms on it, looking at how the spells were woven. He grunted in surprise at the results. "How did you cast these charms? The magic is… strange."

Rolling her eyes, Shot grabbed a couple of grapes, tossing them casually into her mouth as she talked. "I'm like Alice. My magical core was fractured, and I can't use normal magic. I can't even use a wand."

"Then how did you make it?" Alex asked curiously.

She shrugged casually. "I can channel through my tools. If I keep a clear image of what I want while I'm shaping something, it just… happens. I can't explain it better than that. Doesn't matter if it's leather or a circuit board or anything in between. I read a lot, so I know what sort of charms and things are out there, and I make stuff to replicate the effects."

"Impressive," Marcel opined, smiling at her admiringly.

"Cheers," Shot grinned back, slurping her coffee.

Alex and Harry traded a look, and Alex nodded.

"I'd be happy to provide supplies and the like for your creations, especially if you provide things we can use or sell. We can work out the details and draw up an agreement later." Harry offered. "I'll be having Alex and Sergei teach you a few things too. I expect you to learn thoroughly and apply the lessons at all times."

Frowning, Shot burped loudly. "Like what?"

Alex smirked, leaning back in his chair and eyeing her with unholy glee. "Table manners, for one."

Shot scowled. "There is nothing wrong with my manners!"

Harry interjected before an argument could erupt. "Shot, how you eat and drink when you are on your own is up to you. But when you eat with us you will use the skills Alex will teach you. Consider it practice for when we are in public or meeting with allies and clients." His face hardened. "I will not have you embarrass me when it is completely avoidable."

Grumbling under her breath, she subsided sulkily.

Eying her sternly for a moment, Harry determined that was the closest he would get to agreement, and moved on.

"Any updates on Dumbledore or the Dursleys?"

Harry pondered the report from Mama Andrews, via Captain. Foster had grabbed Mama Andrews on McKinnon's orders, as they'd assumed, but to their mutual relief, her captivity had not been as bad as feared.

"So they took her because they'd seen me with her and thought she might know how to get to Vahan?" Harry summarised.

Captain nodded. "They picked her first because Tiny has a reputation, and they figured her for a soft target. They didn't hurt her, thankfully, just tried to starve the information out of her."

Alex frowned. "Doesn't sound like their usual MO. I wonder why?" Catching the darkening expression on Captain's face, he raised his hands and hurriedly backtracked. "Not that I'm glad they didn't, I'm just wondering what was different. She isn't the sort to flip."

Shot stirred restlessly and popped her chewing gum. "It's 'cos she's pretty. They probably meant to sell her afterwards. Can't get as much for her if she's beaten all to hell." She rolled her eyes at the snarl from the volatile muggle. "Dude, don't get pissy with me just because I answered the question. I don't know about you, but I'd like to get this meeting over and done with, because I have other shit I'd rather be doing. I get that she's your wife and all, and I'm thrilled you got her back, but seriously, wrap it up!"

Harry pointedly threw a paper ball at her head, meeting her glare with a hard look. "Play nice, Shot." He stared her down until she lowered her eyes in submission, slumping back in her chair.

Turning back to Captain, he gave a faintly apologetic look. "She's right though. Did Mama Andrews mention anything else of note?"

Here Captain hesitated for a moment. "They kept showing her pictures of the two of you, and calling you Tiny and asking questions about Vahan. Right now she thinks it's a case of mistaken identity, but she'll piece it together very soon, for sure. I think we need to bring her in, preferably before she figures it out herself."

Harry pursed his lips in small moue of displeasure, and thought for a long moment. "She can know that I'm Tiny, nothing further. She'll probably figure out some of the things I'll be teaching the kids, but we can deal with that without too much trouble."

The men - and lady - nodded in agreement.

"Alex, Captain, you two can handle Mama Andrews. You know what to do. Shot, I'd like you to help Marcel find out what you can about the new kids families. He knows the drill, so follow his lead if you have any issues. If he can't handle it, call Alex or Sergei." Leaning back he took a sip of coffee. "Captain, once everything is sorted with the new Nestlings, I'd like you, Mama Andrews, and Daniel to move to The Haunt with Marcel and Connor. I know that at least one of these kids is magical, and I want The Haunt running smoothly before the kid is sent over."

Captain frowned. "What about Greg?"

"He'll be staying here to help with security for The Nest. I know he's mentioned moving out of home to you a couple of times, so I thought this was an option that would appease you and Mama Andrews, and still give him the space he needs."

Sighing in grudging acceptance, Captain subsided. "You're right. Though I'll give it a few days before mentioning it to Mama Andrews, if you don't mind."

Harry nodded. "No problem. I'm not expecting the move for a week or so yet. I want to test out Alice as Nest Mother before you all leave. Either way, you'll all be over here regularly anyway, for lessons and playdates and the like."

Seeing Marcel glance at his watch, Harry realised it was time for the Healer to go about his rounds.

"Marcel, keep everyone under for another twenty four hours. I have too much to do today, but when I get to them, I want to deal with Alice first."

The man nodded, then left, deftly stepping over Warthog who had leapt out from under the cabinet to attack his shoes.

"Anything else?"

Everyone shook their heads, mentally going over their assigned tasks.

"Good. Captain, Alex, get Mama Andrews sorted asap. Alex, as soon as you're done, we're meeting the Goblins at Fortress."

Midmorning found Harry at Fortress with the goblins, setting up the golems for the property, and the one to play his 'father'.

The guards were a fascinating amalgam; combined features of different beasts moulded together to create what Sergei described as nightmares from a hell dimension envisaged by a neurosyphilitic Dali fan.

Harry thought they were adorable.

The guards moved on four muscular legs, the back ones as thick as tree trunks and canine in shape, the front ones slightly longer and leaner, but rippling with muscle and tipped with curved claws as long as his forearm. Standing at six foot at the shoulder and four foot at the hip, their massive heads hung low on a short thick neck. Their faces were lost somewhere between a dragon and a bear, with something faintly shark like in the set of the teeth.

Harry was cooing as he patted the Alpha, which stood a good foot and a half taller than the rest of the pack. He ignored his Hounds - and some of the goblins - eying him like he'd sprouted another head as he baby talked his newest pet, rubbing it's muzzle and nuzzling his face against it like he was a cat. It wasn't technically alive, but that didn't matter to him in the slightest, and besides, he liked how the scales and fur blend the creature was covered in felt against his skin. It was passably sentient, and he'd been linked to be able to see through the packs eyes any time he wished, so he would treat it like any other living creature. It also helped with the deception of what exactly they were.

Shot had taken one look at the beasts and taken up residence in the kitchens, intent on letting the House Elves stuff her with food until she couldn't walk. As soon as she'd left the room, the Hounds had started betting on how long she'd keep it all down once they portkeyed back to The Nest. Her green expression on arrival at Fortress had sparked a thousand planned pranks, and Harry honestly didn't care enough to stop them, as long as they didn't interfere with Business, of course.

The ravens had flown through the window and were perched around the room, cawing and croaking to Harry, carrying on a conversation that only they and he seemed to understand. They'd taken a liking to Warthog too, and were taking turns playing with her, swooping around and encouraging her to chase them and practice pouncing. She never got close, of course, but they seemed to be having fun so Harry didn't bother to intervene.

Finally sending the Pack out to run the grounds and perimeter, Harry turned to the golem of John Smith.

He, the Hounds, and even Shot had donated samples of magic, but only Harry had donated his blood. This allowed the golem to sign magically binding documents for him, without compromising them both if someone was unusually aware of peoples magical signatures.

The goblins had programmed it with an appropriate amount of business and contract law knowledge, as well as various other details that a man of his standing would be expected to know. It was then linked with Harry, so that he could be aware of everything the construct did or learned on his behalf when he activated the connection.

Harry smirked at how like Mr South it appeared, right down to clothing and the way it held itself.

"He's completely autonomous, you said?" He asked Gutshank.

"Yes, and his mind will mimic that of a Master Occlumens, so there is no worry about a Legilimens learning anything from him."

"I'm impressed." Harry smiled warmly, thoroughly pleased. He had every intention of handing over a lot of his non-essential paperwork to it as well, since he could just link in once a day to glean the details.

His thoughts were interrupted by a majestic looking eagle owl swooping in through the window, greeted by heckling calls from The Heralds, as he thought of his ravens.

Raising his wrist, he let the bird land, ignoring the dribbles of blood from where it's claws punctured his skin.

"You're beautiful, aren't you?" He cooed, stroking it's breast feathers. The owl gave him a haughty look, as if to say 'of course I am, are you unusually dense?'. Chuckling, Harry waited for his Hounds to finish scanning it for curses and trackers and the like before taking the note and flipping it open with one hand.

"Apparently Lucius has given Draco permission to write to me directly now. There's the standard conversational babbling, and then he asks if I'd like to visit, or, since I came to him last time, maybe he could come to visit me. Lucius must be losing his touch if he thinks such a transparent attempt to find out more about me will go unnoticed." Harry cocked his head in amusement, looking at Alex. "Is he so ham handed in politics?"

Alex shrugged slightly. "He's considered a consummate Slytherin, and as slippery as an eel. So he's either testing you, or doesn't think you're smart enough to notice. I'm inclined toward the latter, since you've been too busy to keep in contact recently and I'm sure your standard shock treatment has worn off by now."

Harry grinned. "Well then, why don't we play his little game?" He turned to the owl who had been waiting patiently on his wrist. "Thank you. I'll send a response with my own bird once I've decided the proper way to reply."

The owl bobbed his head, and took off out the window.

Portent flew over and landed on his shoulder, busying herself with grooming his now shoulder length hair. Harry laughed when Reaper and Omen followed, one with a Self-Inking Quill, the other with some parchment.

"You want to show off to the Malfoy's, huh? Think we should play nice?" Harry laughed again at the indignant caws from his birds. "Hmm, alright, alright, we'll put on a show. Will that make you happy?"

The Heralds took wing, swirling around Harry like a feathered cyclone, croaking in laughter.

"I think if we are going to do this, we should do it properly, don't you?" He asked them, drawing his wand.

The birds swept down to perch on his wrist one at a time, each letting out a pleased warble when, with Alex's help, he charmed a light and flexible collar around their necks. It was a silver toned chain, not quite metal, not quite fabric, but soft and flexible unless someone was trying to remove it. From it dangled a matching silver pendant with the raven's name engraved deeply that stuck lightly against their breast feathers - able to be moved when the bird wanted to preen, but always returning to its place and never swinging free.

Leaning on the nearby hall table, Harry scribbled an invitation for both Draco and Lucius to visit immediately, since he was right next door. Sealing it, he held it up, chuckling when Omen swooped past and snatched it from his hand, the rest of the Heralds streaming after her, playing tag as they headed for Malfoy Manor as a group.

Harry closed his eyes and smiled to himself when he heard the girlish scream from Draco. Linking into the Pack, he suppressed the urge to laugh when he saw a pasty faced Lucius in a defensive pose with wand drawn, Draco cowering behind him. He supposed that being confronted by the Pack when setting foot inside the front gates might be intimidating to anyone else, but from his perspective it was just funny.

Harry sauntered up to the snarling beasts, slipping fearlessly between them until he could see his guests. He smiled calmly when Lucius caught sight of him, and leaned his shoulder against Alphas foreleg, ankles crossed and arms folded. The pack stopped snarling immediately, but maintained a watchful eye on the two shaken intruders.

Alpha lowered his massive head and turned slightly so that Harry could pat his nose, a huffing growling noise erupting from his huge chest. Harry chuckled fondly when Lucius flinched.

"Don't worry, Mr Malfoy, he's just purring." He roughly scragged the wrinkled muzzle, eyes shining. He really liked his Pack.

"Who's a good boy? You are, yes, you are," he cooed happily into the massive ear.

"Mr Potter, I must say that when we accepted your invitation, we did not expect to be accosted by these… things. You certainly have an interesting way of greeting your guests." Lucius drew himself up, trying his best to look as if he hadn't been seconds away from wetting himself.

Harry ignored the posturing, still scruffing the purring Alpha. "Beautiful, aren't they? Only ones in existence, and completely loyal to me." He tossed a sly glance at the older man. "I imagine it was rather a shock to be confronted with them, but they were just making sure you were allowed to be here. They wouldn't have hurt you without permission, since you came through the front gate. I can't promise what they would have done if you'd breached the perimeter anywhere else though."

Lucius stiffened, taking the warning for what it was.

"What are they?" Draco peered around nervously from behind his father.

Harry thought quickly. "Khalidah," he announced. It was an Arabic name meaning immortal or eternal, which was close enough to the truth to fit his purposes. The phonetic hat tip to the Kalidahs from The Wizard of Oz tickled him as well, forcing him to stifle a grin.

"I've never heard of them," Lucius eyed them speculatively.

"I'd be very surprised if you had. As I said, they're the only ones in existence."

"Can I pat one?" Draco asked tentatively, ignoring his father's look of disapproval.

Harry smiled faintly, and sent a mental command down the link to the pack that Draco was not to be attacked right now. "Sure. Let Alpha get your scent first though." He watched in amusement as Draco cautiously extended one hand for the monstrous creature to smell. Harry found his lips twitching when he realised that even the smallest member of the pack was large enough to fit Draco entirely in their mouth without difficulty. Compared to Alpha, Draco looked like something the beast would use to floss its teeth.

The blond boy grinned happily when Alpha took in his scent, then nudged his hand with his nose, demanding affection.

Harry watched in amusement, marvelling again at the Goblin's work. The newly dubbed Khalidah pack were autonomous and each had a different personality, and he was able to link into and command each one individually, even having them 'talk' to him through it. They would behave as real creatures, complete with individual quirks. He found it absolutely fascinating.

"Shall we go inside? I think a cup of tea would be lovely about now." He eyed the still pale Lucius. "Perhaps something a little stronger for some of us."

The three made their way inside, escorted by Alpha; the rest of the pack returning to roaming the property. Watching the expression on both Malfoy's faces when they saw the entry hall was well worth the interruption to his afternoon, Harry decided. For all that they tried to be stoic and cold, it was impossible not to drop your jaw when first stepping into Potter Manor.

"Whoa," Draco breathed, ignoring the sharp glance from his father. "This place is even better than Malfoy Manor!" He stared in rapt attention at the ceiling, eyes wide as he took in the activities of a centaur and a bowtruckle that Harry was certain wasn't entirely appropriate for children's eyes. He'd have to have a word with the painting later. Clearly the manor had been uninhabited for too long if they thought that sort of behaviour was appropriate in front of guests.

Clearing his throat, Harry regained his guests attention, and ushered them out into the solarium. The weak winter sun struggled through the window panes, doing nothing to add to the warmth of the room, but the heating charms kept it at a pleasant temperature.

Jinky appeared, efficiently serving the men, and including two extra settings for Alex and Sergei as the men joined the trio.

Harry watched as Draco played the part of the perfect pureblood heir, his manners a faultless mimic of his father's impeccable actions. Despite that, Harry could see that the blond boy was bored out of his mind with the small talk the adults were engaging in. If Harry was honest, he was too.

Leaning slightly closer, he spoke quietly. "Hey Draco, want to get out of here?"

Draco eyed him, a mischievous gleam appearing in his eye. "What did you have in mind?"

Harry pondered for a moment. "I've got some horses, if that's your thing. Or the library? Gardens, training room, observatory? What sort of thing do you like to do?"

"I really like flying," Draco confessed. "Quidditch is wicked fun!"

The darker boy frowned, mentally reviewing what he knew of the sport, and flying. Sports weren't really his thing, he didn't see the point of them, but he understood that they could function as a bonding activity, particularly between children.

"I have a Quidditch Pitch, but I've never actually flown before." Harry noted the incredulous look on the other boy's face. "Would you like to fly, then?"

Draco scoffed quietly. "Do you have a decent broom?"

Harry shrugged. "I have no idea, and I don't know what constitutes a decent broom."

Grinning, Draco sat up straight, politely gaining the adults attention.

"Father, Harry mentioned that he has a Quidditch Pitch, but has never actually flown. I thought we could maybe teach him?"

Lucius looked at the brunette boy, eyeing his completely neutral expression. "If Mr Potter would like to, I see no reason why not. When would you like your first lesson? Now?"

Harry frowned slightly, glancing at his Hounds. "Today, certainly, though perhaps not right this moment. I've been led to understand that you are a very accomplished duellist, Mr Malfoy. Would you be interested in a display session? I've been training very hard, and I would appreciate an outsider perspective on my performance."

Lucius smiled faintly. Sergei Petrikov and Severus Snape were the only people to ever beat him in a duel (not including the Dark Lord, obviously), and it had been such a long time since he'd had a decent challenge.

"I'd be delighted," he murmured. Casting a glance at his son's slight pout, he took a sip of tea. "Perhaps afterwards we could offer you the use of some of our brooms, and we can have that flying lesson? My son is passionate about flying, and if you like it, perhaps you could fly together regularly?"

Draco turned pleading eyes on Harry, silently begging.

"That sounds possible. I'd need to see how I do on a broomstick first, of course."

Lucius inclined his head slightly. "Of course."

Lucius sat in his study, sipping at a glass of brandy. He was still completely in shock at the revelations of the afternoon. He knew perfectly well that the scene at the gate with the Khalidah pack was engineered to remind him of how dangerous the Potter boy was. He'd forgotten in the time since their last meeting, and had begun his usual political manoeuvring, thinking to position himself as some sort of mentor to the poor little orphan. He realised now how badly he'd misstepped.

The visit had been surprisingly enjoyable to begin with. He'd savoured catching up with Petrikov, and Charleston was a contact he had every intention of cultivating. And then Potter had suggested the duelling display, and Lucius had belatedly understood why both Petrikov and Charleston were willing to work for the boy. He'd duelled Petrikov just like back in their days as Death Eaters, and while it had been close, Lucius had triumphed. He'd not neglected his training in the years since the Dark Lord fell.

And then Potter had stepped up, and proceeded to duel both Petrikov and Charleston at the same time, none of them restricting themselves to pure magic. There had been flurries of kicks and punches, blades drawn, and blood spattered. The fight was fast and dirty, and Lucius couldn't remember seeing something so vicious in all his years, not even at the height of the Dark Lord's campaign. If he was honest with himself, he didn't think he would have been able to beat the boy unless they agreed to duel using only magic.

To add insult to injury, Potter was a natural on a broom! From the moment he'd kicked off, he was flying like the wind itself. The most graceful of birds couldn't compete with Potter's beauty on a broom. Draco, of course, had been over the moon to find a friend who could match him in flying ability, and the boys had spent several hours just flying around, and once Draco had introduced the concept of a Seekers Game of Quidditch, it had been on for young and old. The boys had flown in ways that professional players would envy, and Lucius had thought his heart was going to stop at some of the moves they pulled.

Draco had been thrilled when Potter had offered to allow him to join his fighting lessons twice a week, following each with a flying session.

Lucius had eyed the brunette boy warily, before nodding to his son and inclining his head gratefully to Potter. After all, as he'd said to Draco on their return to Malfoy Manor, one never knows who will turn out to be a real threat. The understanding gleam in his son's eye had been deeply gratifying.

Taking a sip of his brandy, he pondered how best to address the issue of his new neighbour. He had every intention of nurturing an amicable, and preferably friendly relationship with the boy, but how far he should take it he was uncertain.

Deciding abruptly that he needed a second opinion on the events of the afternoon, Lucius set his empty glass aside and moved to the fireplace to make a call