Be Careful What You Wish For

or

Lussuria the Fairy Godmother and How That Happened

There are some dark parts, especially in Lussuria's backstory, but I really don't think it's anything extraordinarily graphic or alarming and rating-appropriate.

The baby who would grow up to become Lussuria of the Varia wasn't really welcomed into the world so much as he was thrust ungracefully into it.

The boy wouldn't even be held by his mother, taken by the hospital staff and cleaned and sent to the nursery while the woman signed the papers that severed her rights and responsibilities to the child she had just delivered without pause.

He was the product of an affair, after all, a night of passion between two Mafioso who weren't quick enough to hide the consequences of their actions before word leaked out, meaning that they simply couldn't 'fix' their little problem, lest they lose standing. With the Second World War barely two decades past, the Korean War still fresh in their minds, and the Vietnam War raging, (not to mention all the other conflicts, less-publicized wars, and passive-aggressive wars raging around them), none of the Famiglia could afford to show the tiniest shred of weakness, especially if it was easily avoided.

Fortunately, while the father was a married man, he didn't have any other children and was getting rather on in years, so they had chosen to spin the situation as having planned to use the woman to grant him an heir all along, (even though everyone knew that was a big, fat lie). The man's wife, well used to his philandering ways, was easily placated with shiny things and promises of minimal interactions with the little hellion.

So, the boy who would become Lussuria became the sole ward of his father before he was even fifteen minutes old.

"Such a handsome little man." The woman cooed as she pinched his cheeks condescendingly. "Your eyes are so pretty."

At the age of seven, the boy who would become Lussuria's world had crashed down around him.

He hadn't really liked his life with his family, to be honest, but it had been tolerable compared to the life he that he was living now. He'd had to do exactly as he was told, when he was told to do it, and no questions asked. He'd had to dance to their tune exactly, no room for improvisation or creativity, which had made him feel like he was drowning in normalcy but at least-

Well, in the middle of the night nearly six months ago, his family had been slaughtered, so none of that mattered now.

Slaughtered.

All of them.

(Even the bitchy lady.)

In a single night.

The boy had been young enough that he hadn't been deemed a threat, so he'd been deemed part of the 'spoils', his rich chocolate-colored hair and jewel-tones eyes making him an 'investment'.

He was sold to what he found was called a Collector- someone who enjoyed owning Pretty Things- or people, in his case.

(The boy had learned a lot about what was hidden underneath pretty smiles and kind eyes over the last few months.)

Of course, he was lucky, the particular person who 'owned' him usually settled for words over touch.

She liked to take him places and show him how 'lucky' he was to have her, though. (There was one Collector who used his Pretty Things until they died, and the boy's Collector took great delight in telling him that she'd sell the boy to that particular Collector if the boy ever tried to run or tell the police.)

The boy was there for nearly a year, the Collector slowly chipping away at him and trying to superimpose her will onto the boy as she sought to break him into her puppet a being entirely dependent on her and her whims, but the boy was strong and stubborn, refusing to bend to someone else's will.

(The Sun has always risen in the East, no matter the wills of men.)

**Nong Tum walked down the halls of the place she was staying, frustrated.

Her family was poor, but they supported her despite being absolutely bewildered by her transgender identity. She didn't want to become a female, she was a female, she just had a male body at the moment.

The Muay Thai Champion took a moment to run through some breathing exercises and propped herself up against the wall. There was no use getting needlessly frustrated, it would only impair her concentration- her time as a monk-in-training had taught her that long before her Muay Thai training had reinforced those lessons.

The war was still raging within Vietnam and threatening to spill over into Thailand, but Thailand still needed to make money, so the Muay Thai bouts had been moved to India this year as a courtesy, meaning that instead of the familiar facilities she had grown used to over the past five years as a professional Muay Thai athlete, she now had to deal with an entirely unfamiliar country and their weird looks and probing, invasive questions when she requested her usual fare in training equipment and accommodations.

Just remember your goals, She told herself firmly as she started walking again, Keep your eyes on the prize and don't stop.

The boy who would become Lussuria huffed quietly as he carried the fruits of Madam's afternoon shopping spree up to the hotel room.

They were in Chennai, India on a shopping trip because the Muay Thai- apparently a boxing style from Thailand- bouts were being held here this year which had brought all sorts of merchants from Thailand and lower Asia to the city and Madam wanted to take advantage of such a thing.

Oh, well, at least it meant it would be a while before they visited Creeper Collector again.

The boy bumped into someone, immediately apologizing in quiet Tamil, (this area of India spoke mostly the Dravidian dialects, and he had only had time to learn Tamil to Madam's satisfaction prior to the trip), making sure to keep his head down and his eyes averted as he efficiently gathered the scattered packages.

A tanned hand reached down and began to assist him, "Let-help." The voice said in a dialect he couldn't speak, but could sort of understand.

The boy shook his head quickly, "She'll be angry." He breathed out, barely moving his lips.

"Pretty." A voice said from down the hall, "Who are you talking to?"

The boy tensed for a single moment, his whole body going rigid and his eyes widening with terror because nononono-, and then he forced himself to relax and replied in Italian, "I slipped. I'm sorry for being so clumsy, Madam."

"Hmmm." The voice purred behind his ear as bright red nails scraped lightly against his cheek and the boy forced himself to remain calm. "It seems you need more training, sweetheart."

Nong Tum was no stranger to the darker side of life, she had chosen Muay Thai as her path, but many of her kathoey friends ended up as 'working girls' because few places would offer them lawful, gainful employment.

(Admittedly some of them were just whores or just liked the rush that came from being in control by making people pay to touch them. Some even went after the high-and-mighty types just to see if they could get the bastards to crumble.)

Having said that, Nong Tum was also from a poor family in a nation that was still behind the superpowers of the world in many ways- Thailand was still developing, for all that she had moved forward. So the Muay Thai Champion wasn't one to be taken in by pretty smiles or pathetic faces, but that brat-

Well, she did need a little messenger boy, and with all the people around it wouldn't be that hard to accident the crazy bitch the boy was with- it wouldn't be the first time Nong had done a 'side job', and it probably wouldn't be the last.

The boy stared blankly at the dead body of Madam before turning to look at the woman he'd run into earlier.

"Why?" He asked in Italian, hopelessly lost and confused by what he was feeling.

The woman eyed him carefully, "People like her," she said finally, (also in Italian), "Like to twist people to their own ends. They use pretty words and fake kindness until you're so wrapped up in them you can't escape- that was her endgame, you depending on her. I'm not a saint, either, kid. I want to use you as my messenger boy, to run my errands and such. In return, though, I'll train you to defend yourself in mind and body- which means making sure you're educated, you eat properly, and you have a place to sleep. I don't anticipate keeping you more than five years or so- meaning you do a good job until then, and after that you're free to go."

The boy though about everything in his life up until that moment and realized that this unrepentant murder was probably the kindest person he'd ever met.

"I'd like to go with you." He said finally.

The woman smiled, "Let's go then, brat."

"Keep your guard up, Lussuria!" Nong Tum barked to her student/messenger boy, "Stop looking for an opening and make one!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Lussuria- it was the name he had been given by one of Nong Tum's kathoey friends once they'd found out that he was Italian and it had stuck- replied, trying to center himself as she'd taught him and feinting left as she came to his right.

"Too slow!" She howled gleefully as she whapped him in the back of the head.

(Lussuria was learning that there was a difference between forging a weapon and training a warrior.)

"What are you looking at?" Nong Tum asked her charge, amused at his hasty scrambling to appear nonchalant.

"Nothing." He said quickly.

"Hmmhmm." She hummed, unimpressed. "And the truth?"

The boy blushed, "I like those sunglasses." He pointed to a bright red pair with thick red frames. He blushed further under her imperious raised eyebrow, "Everyone has always commented about my eyes….especially Madam. They're dark enough no one could see the color."

Ten minutes later, Lussuria was wearing his very first pair of red sunglasses.

(It became easier to hold his head up and look at people after that.)

"Oh! It's terrible Nong! What am I going to wear?!" her friend wailed as the other kathoey rummaged through her closet in a panic, "that bitch is going to show me up and I'll never be able to show my face there again!"

"Girl!" Lussuria called from his spot on the bed, "What is that?"

The occupants of the room turned to see the sequined monstrosity that had been tossed out of the closet at some point and Lussuria whirled into action, his lessons from his family and Madam flowing together as he pinned and altered and fitted, stepping back from his work an hour later with a satisfied smile on his face.

"Oh, Lussuria-honey, this is fabulous!" The other kathoey crooned as she admired herself in the mirror.

Lussuria's smile faltered as he turned to peek at his mentor, suddenly afraid that she'd reject him for being so, so-

Nong Tum snorted, "Figures," She laughed from her position on the bed as her friend continue to do a Narcissus impression with the mirror, "That I'd find a kathoey from Italia in India."

Lussuria's smile was nearly blinding in its intensity.

(Acceptance is a powerful thing, especially for a nine-year-old boy.)

Eleven-year-old Lussuria gave Nong Tum one last hug. "Thank you." He whispered to her, "For everything. For teaching me how to dance, how to live, how to be myself. I'll never be able to say thank you enough."

Her arms tightened around him, "Be as safe as you can, Lussuria, but don't be afraid to forge your own path. Don't be ashamed of where you came from or who you are."

Lussuria wasn't meant to leave Nong Tum this early, but a week before there had been a pretty big fight in the city they'd been staying in, and during the melee Lussuria had activated his Sun Flames. While Nong Tum hadn't seen them, one of her friends had, and they had warned the pair that Lussuria needed to get out of Thailand before the Triads heard about a Dying Will Flame user being in their territory.

So, with his backpack full of supplies, and a notebook chock-full of all the information the kathoey had managed to put together about the Dying Will Flames and anything else they felt relevant for him to know, Lussuria left Thailand- and the only true family he'd even known- behind.

Being back in Italy was weird, Lussuria decided.

He certainly didn't want to be recognized, so he'd gone the extra mile and dyed his hair green with a bright red strip on the left side at Mafia Land, (never underestimate the information network of a bunch of sex workers), and he'd registered as a freelance assassin.

(It wasn't that difficult of a life for him to slip into, honestly. His original family had taught him all the bullshit middle-upper class etiquette crap, Madam had filled in a lot of higher-class information, including the seedy underworld aspect of the rich and famous, and Nong Tum had had contacts everywhere, so Lussuria was able to step into the life of a freelance assassin fairly easily.)

Lussuria knew that there was something broken inside him when it came to people, but he just couldn't bring himself to care.

As much as he could heal someone who was on the brink of death and drag them back into the realm of the living one day, he could very easily turn around the next day and kill them if the job required it. There were very few people in this world he would refuse to kill, and they were all in Thailand at the moment.

His phone beeped, (and wasn't Mafia technology a surprise?!), and he noted that the next batch of assassination contracts had come up for grabs.

Well, material was expensive and he did want to design a new uniform for himself…..

The next few years were pretty much a blurs of places, targets, and shopping trips.

Lussuria made little bolt holes all over Europe and Asia for his loot, a trailer here, a shipping container there, a small apartment in between- slowly building up a respectable amount of safe houses for an assassin to call their own.

He'd had a few run-ins with other Famiglia, but for all his now-comfortably-flaunted-flamboyance he was a damn good assassin, mostly leaving the cause of death and his completed Mafia Land contracts to tie to hits back to him.

Then came the day that he crossed paths with the Varia.

It was a simple job.

Go in, take out the target, maybe steal some clothes as they wouldn't be needing them any longer, and get out.

Lussuria wasn't expecting to run into the fucking Varia, the Vongola's secret-enshrouded Independent Assassination Squad, guarding the target. However, Lussuria hadn't failed a mission yet, and he wasn't going to start now.

It took twice the amount of time he'd expected, but he managed to get the drop on the squad, taking out two of the four before they knew he was there. The third went down shortly thereafter, but the fourth was a damn fierce Cloud and it took everything Lussuria had to put the bastard down.

Then it was on to the target, but there was a fifth person that Lussuria had missed.

(Actually, it was the target who suddenly was no longer the target.)

Fuck.

The Varia leader, Tyr.

The fucking Boss of the motherfucking Varia- fuck Lussuria's life.

The fight was brutal, and Lussuria held his own, but after fighting all the others and being wounded, fighting Tyr was no joke, so a few hours later Lussuria was under the man's sword, glaring defiantly up at the bastard.

Tyr chuckled darkly, "You have two options, die here or become the Varia Sun Officer."

Lussuria blinked slowly, "The fuck? Why haven't you killed me yet?"

"You're a damn powerful Sun." Tyr explained, "But you refuse to ally with any Famiglia, that makes the Vongola nervous. So this was a set up from the start. The Varia is down a Sun Officer, so either join us or die."

"You used your own men as sacrifices to get me under your thumb on the off chance I might serve you?" Lussuria spat back, ignoring the way the sword was digging deeper into the side of his neck. "You sick motherfuckers."

"Pretty rich, coming from an assassin like you."

"At least I have some honor."

"I have my pride as a swordsman." Tyr said simply, sword twisting slightly in the wound on Lussuria's neck, "So what's it going to be, brat? Death or the Varia?"

(There was something broken in Lussuria in regards to people, but those men out there had died for no good reason other than the Vongola's greed. Lussuria wasn't a good person, but he didn't want to die and he figured he owed the poor bastards at least that much."

"Varia." Lussuria spat through clenched teeth.

The Varia wasn't all that bad, Lussuria would grudgingly admit.

'Varia Quality' was very much a thing, and for as good as he was, there had still been some work for Lussuria to fully make the cut, but he'd managed.

He loathed Tyr with a virulent passion, and Ottabio was a useless pile of waste, but Mammon was a joy to work with and his little Suns were fun to play with and he always got the best jobs.

(It was true that the Varia weren't paid an exorbitant amount of money, but they also didn't have to pay for much, either, so they ended up being better off than most, despite most people thinking that they were poor. It was part of Mammon's scheme to make people underestimate the Varia and offer to pay for things for them.)

Lussuria turned fourteen on April 4th, and as the only other Officer that Mammon could stand, the Mist Officer actually bought Lussuria a birthday card.

"Mammy! You're the greatest!" Lussuria cooed as he scooped the tiny Mist into a hug and twirled them around, Mammon letting out a long-suffering sigh and muttering about charging the Sun Officer for touching them inappropriately.

Lussuria, having access to a wider range of information and resources, grew in power and ability quickly, and he was actually quite beloved by his subordinates, and though he loathed Tyr with a virulent passion, he was a good Officer so Tyr was actually pleased with the Varia Sun, despite Lussuria's quirks.

(Like Lussuria's penchant for making people think of him as a necrophiliac when he wanted to psyche them out during a fight.)

So when Benito Messano thought that he could sell Vongola secrets to INTERPOL and get away, Lussuria was handed the assassination.

It took nearly six months, and he accomplished a few other missions in between, (as if Mammon wouldn't find jobs for him to complete when Lussuria was already traipsing through several countries in pursuit of his target), but Lussuria finally tracked the man down in Little Whinging, Surrey, England nearing Christmas that year.

Harry Potter sat in his cupboard and wished.

(He had been startled by his cousin and the lights in the house had flickered, which had caused his Aunt to screech about freakishness and useless sister and chuck him into his little 'room'.)

His Primary class had watched the Disney movie 'Cinderella' the other day as part of 'It the Christmas Hols!' celebration, and he'd actually gotten to see at as Dudley had been too busy whining about the type of cake he'd been given to make up an excuse to get Harry thrown out. Aunt Petunia had been furious, of course, and Uncle Vernon had raised hell with the school on the phone, but Harry had gotten a taste of the fantastical and they couldn't take that away from him, not when they were constantly complaining about him being a 'freak'.

So, he sat in that dark cupboard with his arms wrapped around his knobby knees and wished with all his heart and soul that his own Fairy Godmother would find him.

(Children have an amazing capacity for accomplishing the impossible entirely by accident simply because they do not understand that the circumstances that they are in are preposterously fortuitous.

The Winter Solstice is a time of life-death-rebirth, of shedding the old and making things new- combined with the raw plea of a child, the rage of a mother, and the whims of providence; it was truly a preposterously fortuitous set of circumstances.)

Arabella Figg had been watching the Dursley family for nearly eight years, (nearly three of those years were before Harry had come to them, when the war had been raging and Albus had been worried that Lily's muggle family might be targeted to get to James, especially after James became Lord Potter), and she had nothing nice to say about them and their treatment of little Harry Potter, but she also had nothing particularly bad to say about them either.

Harry had ragged clothes and bumps and bruises, but children were rough on clothing and boys would be boys. Harry was small for his age and rarely looked anyone in the eye, but some children were just shy.

No matter, she was calling on them this evening with her gentleman- Benjamin was such a dear! She was so lucky to have him!- and then she would enjoy her holiday.

Lussuria was dying.

Figuratively, of course.

These cookie-cutter houses were going to give him hives, and the decorations were honestly going to make him vomit.

How could people live in a trash-heap like this? So uncute.

He noted his target and the target's date walking up to 'Cookie Cuttter House # 4' and knocking on the door.

Lussuria almost blew his cover when a Zoo animal in human form opened the door, but he was Varia Quality, so he managed to stay composed and silent.

Barely.

Something niggled at him, though, like a tiny nudge at the back of his mind, something that whispered that there was something important to him in that house.

Well, Lussuria hadn't lived as long as he had by ignoring his instincts, and he also wasn't known for not indulgining himself.

He slunk over to the window below the dining room.

"Oh course Arabella! It's great to see you!" A shrill, grating voice was saying, and Lussuria kind of hated himself in that moment.

"-trouble you for very long, Petunia. How is little Harry doing?" An aged voice asked kindly, if crankily.

"The boy is fine, he just still doesn't know how to respect his betters." The shrill woman's tone had gone stone cold, and her reply was stiff.

Lussuria's mind blanked and for a moment he was back at Madam's.

"Think you have the right to look me in the eye, pretty? I'll have to teach you respect your betters!"

The Varia Assassin forced himself through his Muay Thai breathing exercises. It had been years since he'd thought about Madam. Years since he'd truly thought about Nong Tum, for all that she was his savior and light and master, but right now all he could think about was that night in the hotel when the boxer had ended Madam's life between one blink and the next and saved Lussuria from the fate of being a broken toy.

He was so lost in thought, he missed the rest of the conversation, but his training kicked in and when the couple departed, he followed them.

By midnight, his target was dead. Heart Attack.

(Lussuria's only weapon wasn't Muay Thai, and Activation was an underappreciated Aspect.)

Lussuria found himself back at 'Cookie Cutter House # 4'.

What are you doing Lussuria? He berated himself, even as he quietly broke into the backdoor of the residence, sniffing disdainfully at their 'state of the art' security.

Lussuria ghosted through the house, noting that from all the pictures and indications, only three people lived here.

Yet…

Lussuria was a Sun. He had a damn Pure Flame, too. This allowed him to do things that most other Sun Flame users couldn't even dream of doing, because they lacked the control and Flame Intensity to do so.

There were four people in this shitty hellhole.

Lussuria took a shaky breath and walked forward towards the little cleaning closet and quietly eased the door open, not truly surprised by the tiny boy inside.

(Messy jet-black hair, jewel-toned eyes. Pretty Thing.)

The boy smiled up at Lussuria, wide and bright and brilliant, "Hello." He whispered shyly, "are you my Fairy Godmother?"

Lussuria nearly squealed at how utterly fucking adorable the boy was, but he refrained, knowing how important the next few minutes were.

"I can be." Lussuria said cheerfully, but quietly, as he crouched down to look the boy in the eye, "But I'm going to be honest with you kiddo, I'm not a saint. I need a messenger boy, someone to run my errands and such. If you'll do that for me, I'll teach you how to defend yourself in body and mind- which means making sure you're educated, you eat properly, and you have a place to sleep. I don't anticipate keeping you more than five years or so- meaning you do a good job until then, and after that you're free to go."

The boy's face fell, "You don't want to keep me?"

Lussuria really wanted to cuddle the little brat, "We'll see when the time comes, ok? But if you're willing, I'll be your Fairy God mother until then. You can call me God-Mama Luss."

"I'll go." The boy said quickly, "I can cook a little and I'm really good at cleaning. I've been doing the laundry, too!"

The Varia assassin did a few more Muay Thai breathing exercises, "You just grab anything you want to keep, and I'm going to look around really quick to see if there is anything I need to take with us, alright?"

The boy blinked at him, but nodded slowly, "Ok, God-Mama Luss."

Lussuria reached forwards and cuddled the brat this time.

The great thing about boring, respectable people was that they had boring, respectable hiding places for all their dirty little secrets, so it didn't take long for Lussuria to grab the documents he needed, (including a suspect parchment that was going to Mammon ASAP), and head back downstairs.

As much as he would love to waste these idiots, they were civilians and he didn't have probable cause. The boy had voluntarily agreed to come with him, which was one thing, but Lussuria was already shirting the Vindice-towed line, so he didn't want to push things.

The Vindicare was no joke, after all.

Lussuria came back downstairs and was honestly more surprised than he should have been to see the boy standing just outside the cupboard, as if he wasn't sure what to do next. The Varia Sun forced a smile on his face, "Ready to go?" he asked cheerily.

The boy nodded vigorously, taking Lussuria's proffered hand easily.

"Let's go, God-Mama Luss!" The boy chirped brightly, but still in a quiet enough voice to only carry to the two of them.

Mammon gave Lussuria a searching stare, the silence stretching tautly between the two Varia Officers, Lussuria's new charge sleeping peacefully on the Sun Officer's lap.

(Well, actually, Lussuria had strapped a Dispenser- a Mafia-tech device that worked sort of like an IV- that he'd loaded with a nutritional cocktail that would normally kill someone to the boy, and Lussuria was using his Sun Flames to Activate the cells in the boy's body and the nutrients to catalyze the healing of the boy's body and drastically reduce the time needed to reverse the amount of impairment that the boy had suffered.

Most Suns would be able to hold this technique for ten minutes, maximum. That Lussuria had been holding it for nearly two hours while discussing the matter of his new charge with Mammon, was a testament to his skill and his ability to multitask.

That Lussuria was also keeping the boy in a deep sleep was a mark of skill, as Lussuria was a Sun through-and-through, so he had no Tranquility to 'cheat' with, and by keeping him asleep, the boy wasn't experiencing the agony his body was currently putting itself through.)

"Lussuria," Mammon said at length, "that is the 'Boy-Who-Lived' of the European Wizarding World."

"He's mine. He agreed to be my messenger boy, Mammy~!" Lussuria whined, but there was a steel there that Mammon was resigned to cooperating with, "And I won't send him back there. I don't care who put him there. He was a Pretty Thing, Mammy. I won't."

Mammon, as an Esper and a member of the Varia knew about that part of Lussuria's past, and resigned herself to assisting in the cover-up of Harry Potter's disappearance.

It wasn't like the boy wouldn't be a decent investment, she reasoned, and Lussuria was one of her only friends.

(No one realized that Harry Potter was missing from 'Cookie Cutter House # 4' because Mammon was also Varia Quality.)

Harry had been with God-Mama Luss for almost six months and it had been the best six months of his life.

He'd fallen asleep at some point after leaving Privet Drive, and when he'd woken up it had been several days later and God-Mama Luss had been hovering over him worriedly. God-Mama Luss had then explained that he'd been asleep so that the other could heal the damage that the Dursley's had inflicted on him by not feeding him enough.

After that, Auntie Mammon had come in and explained all about the Magical World that he'd been born to, and how he'd ended up at the Dursley house.

He'd been so angry at the thought of being left like milk on a doorstep after his parents had been murdered that he'd accidentally used the lingering traces of God-Mama Luss's Sun Flames to Active his own Dying Will Flames.

Harry was a Rain Flame user, but he was also an Inverted Cloud.

After finding this out, Auntie Mammon had examined his scar and called her friend Skull, the Cloud Arcobaleno. They put their heads together with God-Mama Luss, (God-Mama Luss had kept him busy with errands and stuff when the original discussion had sputtered to a halt), and a few days later they came to the conclusion that Lily Potter had dabbled in Soul Magic, the most forbidden kind of magic. When Voldemort came that night, use a preplanned ritual to sacrifice her own soul in its purest form- the Dying Will Flames- to save Harry. Mammon theorized that Lily was a Lightning and that was why Harry's scar was in that shape, but that something wrong was behind the scar.

God-Mama Luss had gotten a determined look in his eyes and Auntie Mammon had seemed delighted at the thought of a challenge, so Harry and Skull had just sat back and let the two scheme.

(Skull was awesome! He'd taught Harry all kinds of little tricks to do with his Flames, even though Harry couldn't use them very much without passing out yet.)

At any rate, Harry having Flames made Boss Tyr accepting his presence easier, as Lussuria had a valid reason to take him from the Dursleys that way, (they lied and said he found his flames before Lussuria found him).

Since Harry was just coming up on his sixth birthday, was diligent in his studies and training, and generally didn't make a nuisance of himself, Boss Tyr generally overlooked the fact that Harry wasn't actually a part of the Varia and used him to run errands around the Castle for a few hours most weekday afternoons.

Harry, or as God-Mama Luss had dubbed him Sansone which meant Sun in Italian, scurried down the corridor towards Boss Tyr's office.

God-Mama Luss didn't like Boss Tyr, so out of loyalty Harry didn't either, but the man was fairly pleasant to him most of the time. Of course, the boy thought to himself as he knocked and was bade to enter, that could have something to do with the fact that God-Mama Luss lets him use me for all the errands to the other Officer's offices.

It took the combined efforts of Lussuria, Mammon, and Skull- not to mention some consultation with Verde- and nearly a year to do all the calculations, but they managed to finagle a way to separate the sacrificial Lightning Flames from Harry own Dying Will Flames without killing him in the process.

Actually, that part had been fairly simple, and Verde had been needed to construct a container to hold the wrong part that was sandwiched between the Lightning Flames and Harry's Cloud Flames, which were always pressing back against the wrong part, they had found.

That was how Harry had ended up on the floor of one of the Varia's Interrogation Rooms, with a worried Lussuria fussing over him.

"Did it work?" He rasped.

Lussuria beamed at him, "Sure did, sweetheart! The nasty part is out, and you'll have headaches for a while since your body has to readjust, not to mention the Lightning Flames didn't dissipate like we thought, they melded with your own, so you might be able to use them a little if you work hard."

Harry smiled brightly, "Love you, God-Mama Luss, Auntie Mammy, Uncle Skull." He murmured as he dozed back off to sleep.

Boss Tyr was dead.

Dead.

Death was something that Harry had walked with companionably since his association with God-Mama Luss had begun nearly three years ago.

Harry saw it in the Infirmary, in the Interrogation chambers, sometimes even in the hallways if things escalated too quickly.

But Boss Tyr…..

The man had always been untouchable. Invincible. Sacred.

No matter how much God-Mama Luss, (and therefore Harry), had disliked him.

So, now the Varia had no Boss and Ottabio was filling the gap while God-Mama Luss was following around the new Sword Emperor- Squalo somebody or other- and filming his battles while the new Sword Emperor secured his title by winning at least twenty-five serious sword battles in a row.

Harry stared straight at the new Boss-Xanxus- refusing to dishonor God-Mama Luss by being cowed by a stare.

(Harry conveniently disregarded the killer intent that was rolling off the man that could very well have its own, imposing physical form.)

The man drew his gun faster than Harry could blink, and Harry knew that he was facing a killer, a ruthless murderer who wouldn't hesitate because of his age or his rather androgynous features.

Harry titled his chin subtly and stood his ground anyways, using the tricks that Uncle Skull had taught him to keep himself from trembling as the man prowled around his desk and shoved the barrel of his gun under Harry's chin.

The boy forced a grin to curl his lips and forcibly clogged his ears to whatever he man was saying.

(He wouldn't break. God-Mama Luss and Auntie Mammon taught him better than that.)

Suddenly there was a rough grip in his hair and he was forced to look up at the other man. "You're really not going to snivel and beg me not to kill you, are you trash?" The other asked in a deep rumbling voice.

Harry's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing.

Suddenly the man bared his teeth at him, a twisted parody of a smile that sent shivers down Harry's spine, and the next moment Harry was stumbling as the man released him carelessly. "Trash can stay, but he's your responsibility, Lussuria."

Life under Boss Xanxus really wasn't all that different than life under Boss Tyr, really.

Harry was still an errand boy, Lussuria having decided that at nine he was more valuable inside the Castle than outside, and Boss Xanxus actually kept the rest of the Varia corralled better, so Harry didn't have to dodge nearly as much as he walked through the halls.

Of course, Boss Xanxus seemed to particularly delight in throwing things at Harry, so he got lots of dodging practice, but lemons, lemonade and all that.

There was just something about Boss Xanxus that made Harry stand up and take notice, though, and the more Harry interacted with the man, (usually through snarky commentary and slightly-off-to-one-side bullets), the more he could see why the rest of the Varia were willing to follow a teenager.

As time progressed, Harry even got a few, "Good job, trashy brat," comments and hair-ruffles from the man, and while Harry had been perfectly fine without them, perfectly fine with just God-Mama Luss, Auntie Mammon, and Uncle Skull- there was a part of him that wanted to make Xanxus proud like that more often.

Superbi Squalo- the Superbi part was his Varia name- was the new Varia Second-in-Command, and Harry actually liked the man.

(Conflicting feelings about Boss Tyr aside.)

For all of Squalo's loudness and death threats, he was damn good at his job- something that Ottabio definitely hadn't been- and it was a very nice change of pace, even if the Varia did experience a sharp spike in 'trash pickup' after Commander Superbi took over.

"Don't worry about them and their geniusness, darling." Lussuria soothed Harry after Bel's introduction to the Varia and his quick promotion to Officer, "I'm not necessarily a genius, either, but I'm still powerful in my own right. You be you, sweetheart, and forget the rest."

Harry gave Lussuria a tight hug and buried his face in the man's Varia jacket, his fingers curling into the back of the material as his eyes overflowed and he let out everything that he'd been bottling up, soaking up the comfort the man readily provided him. For all of Lussuria's refusal to sugar-coat things and demanding his ruthless training regimen- both mental and physical- the man was always there when Harry needed him to be, a steady support in the chaos of their lives and Harry adored him for it.

Harry did not like the new Lightning Guardian, Leviathan.

He liked him less than he like Prince Bel, and that was saying something, since Prince Bel was almost eighteen months younger than Harry and already so much more accomplished, and entirely unafraid to rub these facts in Harry's face.

(It had nothing to do with Levi's stalkers tendencies or his proclamations that he fought only for Xanxus' approval when God-Mama Luss still wouldn't let Harry do anything outside the Castle.)

Something had happened, and now Boss Xanxus was 'indisposed'.

Commander Superbi had called Harry to the SIC office, "Look, kitty," the tired-looking blonde said, "You're not actually part of the Varia, and Mammon's illusions will only hold so long when she's not here to reinforce them. You need to decide what you're going to do now."

Harry swallowed around his suddenly heavy tongue, "Sir?"

The Commander made a frustrated noise and rested his elbows on his desk and pillowed his head in his hands, "I'm being told that if you don't show up at the school- which I'd never heard of until a week ago, I've had to research this shit- that your parents signed you up for when you're eleven, you'll never have a moments peace and you'll lose your rightful inheritance. Lussuria has been keeping you inside the Castle because that way you're not technically part of the Mafia, which means you'll still be invited for formal magical schooling.

Once you're full-time Mafia, the Vindice injunction whatever-the-hell they use that identifies you as a potential or current student and they blank you from the records. It's serious shit, and Xanxus-" Commander Superbi took on a pained expression, but pushed forward quickly, "Xanxus supported you getting your rightful inheritance, even before he knew that you came from old money, because he doesn't think that some old geezer with an agenda should be able to screw you out of it."

"So," Harry said slowly, hands fisting at his side, "I can either go back and play their game or lose it all and play my own."

"Brat." Squalo's sword came down a hairs-breadth away from Harry, "Xanxus is encased in ice right now because his old man is a lying piece of shit. Mammon and Lussuria are fucking amazing, but they don't have access to some of the brightest minds in the magical world. You've been trained by an Esper, and have the opportunity to go to a school headed by the guy who basically runs the magical world. Please tell me you're not wasting your training on the thought of spending a measly six months or so with those Dursley fuckers. They can't even fucking touch you, brat. Imagine Boss raining hell down on them when he wakes up, if that helps. Fucking hell."

Harry suddenly felt like an idiot.

"I'll go, sir."

**Parinya Charoenphol aka Nong Tum is an actual Muay Thai Champion. She is also a model and actress.

The colloquial term for her is kathoey, which from my research is what a transgender woman or an effeminate gay man is called in Thailand. From what I've found the translation is usually 'ladyboy' or 'lady boy' in English. I've altered her age to fit the story, but she's Lussuria's role model and plays a part of his development, and no offense is meant by these alterations.

Please leave a review on your way out!

This was a bit different for me, so I kind of want to know what you guys think.