When the day came that Verde finally discovered a safe growth serum, five and a half (plus one mini-Sky) now Curse-free Arcobaleno gathered in the mansion that they had lived in with Luce, back in the days Before. Although it took several weeks for their adult forms to be returned to them, the mad scientist of a Lightning succeeded.

Said Lightning also informed the Mist, Sun, Storm, Cloud, both Rains and the child Sky that they would have to remain in close quarters for at least a month before their Flames were stabilized.

(-because we're all in the same set, we get benefits so we don't all spontaneously combust and die a pathetic death," Verde explained, gesturing wildly. "So don't be an idiot, Skull, and wander off and explode."

Skull stared with a slack mouth and wide eyes before Reborn sighed and slapped him on his head.

"No one is going anywhere without everyone else, yes, it's understood, Verde.")

Apparently forcing your body to shrink to a baby's size for decades while inhibiting all growth and then suddenly forcing it back to an adult's body in a manner of weeks, wasn't doing good things for their bodies.

Who would have guessed?

And so, they all unanimously decided to celebrate, by going to a bar in the nearest town and drinking as much alcohol as they could tolerate and randomly speaking of things they had done before they became the Strongest Seven. Their unanimous decision also included keeping Yuni away from aforementioned alcohol.

She still insisted on accompanying them and with Verde's explanation still present in their minds, they couldn't refuse.

Unfortunately, as they were looking for a bit of fun, it was naturally decided to have Skull go first. After all, he was only a civilian stuntman, the youngest of them made even more child-like since he neglected to put in his piercings. Mammon had already spilled the beans that the only crimes on Skull's record were speeding tickets. His life story would probably be pretty mild and something to laugh at. Maybe some sob story about running away to the circus to become famous or the like.

Sure, there might be some low points, such as maybe abuse that drove him to run away, but they were Mafia, their hands were all bloodied. Reborn was a hitman, Fon was an enforcer for the Triads. To say nothing of the Varia's Mammon or COMSUBIN's Lal Mirch and Colonello. Hell, Verde was a scientist with very little in the way of ethical constraints.

Unfortunately for their bit of fun, which Skull was initially perfectly willing to give, along with the run-away-to-the-circus cliche, thirty plus years tended to dull some memories. Normally, it would have been that since Skull, with his incredibly pure Flames, couldn't get drunk very easily. So Skull, forgetting that now he was an adult again, also forgot that his magical core would be fully formed and unless he deliberately sought out his Flames, his magic would be his primary healing source.

Funny thing about wizards and witches was that, yes, sugar was important for all the energy usage, but also that magicals get drunk with astonishing little effort due to the sugar in most alcohol.

Thus what would usually only be enough alcohol to get mildly buzzed, was now enough to get him utterly wasted. It was noticed very quickly, as Reborn smirked and exchanged glances with Colonello, ignoring Fon's entirely too innocent expression.

"Oi, Skull!" Colonello yelled from across the table, blue eyes shining in glee, "The hell're you even doin' before Checkerface got a hold of you, kora?"

Instantly, the color bled from Skull's face and the distant nostalgia crumbled into grief as his eyes welled with tears. He made a noise, not unlike an injured puppy, which prompted the sniper to facepalm and turn to Reborn where he leveled an exasperated look at the hitman.

"I said before that the lackey would be one of those lightweight, emotional drunks, didn't I, kora?!"

Partially drunk, Colonello was less than controlled with his reactions and this his intended whisper was much louder and in the pointed silence, he ended up turning away from the Sun's amused expression in slight embarrassment.

Lal Mirch, vaguely curious to Skull's answer, absently punched him upside the head, even as Reborn simply allowed his lips to curl in further mocking amusement. Fon raised a sleeve to hide his own smile even as his eyes flickered over the lines of Skull's face. Verde barely looked up from pouring alcohol between two laboratory flasks and thus missed as the Mist sitting to his right paused for a moment before turning their attention to the Cloud.

Information was information, after all. There was very little on Skull they could find, other then what was on public record.

Skull's background had been speculated on for several different occasions where those who had speculated, had narrowed it down to a runaway who joined the circus at a young age. Perhaps from an isolated group of people or an orphanage considering the oddities he exhibited at times. The purple-haired man began to speak, but the words that came out of his mouth were the ones that none of the Arcobaleno had even considered in their wildest imaginations.

"I was a soldier," their civilian lackey says bleakly, darkly, with such emotion, his eyes glassy and words barely slurring, despite his obvious intoxication.

The hum of conversation and merriment instantly vanished from their table as the former Arcobaleno registered exactly what their weak, obnoxiously loud Cloud just said. They would have dismissed his words if not for the glazed quality to his glimmering purple eyes and the tears steadily sliding down his cheeks. Coupled with how he appeared almost expressionless, save for the stress lines around his eyes, it made for an uneasy sight.

At the head of the table, Yuni stares in shocked silence, hands pressed over her mouth.

Paying no mind to the sudden change in the atmosphere around their table and the way he instantly becomes the center of attention, Skull continues, his expression breaking to allow a bitter not-smile to twist his mouth.

"It was just my luck, ya know? The whole thing. Like a fairy tale. Kept in a cupboard and brought out only to do my chores- keep the house clean, make the meals, tend to the garden, do as I'm told and no questions. Of course," Skull snorted in desersion, "It didn't end like a fairy tale. There was no happy ending for me. Then again, Grimm came before Disney, so perhaps it did."

He waves a hand, adopting a patronizing, breathy voice so different from his usual shrill tones.

"'Course, it wasn't Dumbledore's fault my relatives hated my existence, oh no, never Dumbledore's fault. The greatest man to ever live, oh how benevolent he is, our lord of light." Skull spat with disgust, cutting his hand sharply through the air and only just missing knocking over his own drink.

"I didn't even know anything, even though they did. Punished for freaky things- freaks don't deserve nuthin', that's what I was always told. That changed when I turned eleven though, 'agrid came for me. Told me more about myself in two minutes then Petunia ever did in the decade I lived with her. Didn't know I was famous for surviving that mad man while he went about slaughtering everyone else, m'parents included."

A soft smile and gratitude eases the lines of his face.

"He told me the names of my parents, gave me my first birthday cake, my first birthday gift and was my first friend."

Skull blinked rapidly, wiping away his tears with a faintly trembling hand, before he grabbed for his glass and knocked back another drink, eyes firmly fixed on the polished wood of the table. He did not look at his companions with their attention entirely fixated on him. Then again, the words kept coming and at the moment he really didn't care. It had been so long since he even thought of himself by the name he was given, rather than the one he gave himself. Keeping his secrets seemed meaningless now. He easily ignored his paranoia screaming in the back of his head.

A breath, shaky and harsh in the silence of the room and he begins again, with his first year at Hogwarts.

"I was eleven when I first killed someone. Dumbledore made sure he told me nothing about why, only it was gonna happen anyway, good job, glad you woke up, keep your silence, child and I'll keep mine. Bastard," he absently spat.

"Made sure that I understood that he would have returned to start the war again and that he would target me again. The people around me as well. I made sure to tell them though. 'Mione cried and Ron told me he would never let that happen to me again, that when Tom came, they would stand beside me. I wished I could've believed them," Skull whispered despondently, half to himself, absently wiping his cheeks and smearing makeup onto the bandages decorating his face.

He shifted long limbs, tucking them firmly under his chair, straightening his spine while still determinedly ignoring the eyes he could feel burning into him. It didn't matter now, nothing did. The looks on their faces, when he got to the bad parts, when they would realize all the answers to all the whys they would ask about why he was so different, so resistant, so stubborn. Serves them right, the assholes. Stupid, bastard Reborn. Stupid fucking sheep following his lead.

(Stupid fucking feelings that said they were his anyway, that he'd burn the world for them all the same)

"Twelve wasn't so bad, even if Forge and Gred had to kidnap me from my relative's house. Bars on my windows and meals from the cat-flap. If it weren't for their mother, I'd starved that time for sure. School was just as stressful that year as it was last, especially with Slytherin's pet running through the pipes trying kill everyone. There was food though," Skull shrugged loosely.

"The students were all convinced I was evil incarnate just 'cause I could speak to snakes. Naturally the teachers didn't help matters, not that they ever did. Once the truth came out, I almost wished it was me. It really wasn't Ginny's fault, the blame belonged to Voldemort," the Cloud said, his voice turning into steel as he looked down to stare at his trembling hands as they cradled his glass, "as it always did. Well, him or Dumbledore. A lonely girl trying to find some comfort. A child who knew better but did it anyway. Wasn't her fault some people pour their souls into things and pour it out just as easily."

Viper gave a start out of the corner of his eyes and the alarms in the back of his head blared louder, but Skull found the words just kept coming. Why should he care? Thirty years gone and past, recently freed from a curse he thought he would die with.

It didn't matter. He didn't care.

(you care so much you feel as though you will bleed to death with the pain of it)

"The basilisk was over a thousand years old with the ability to kill anyone it looked at, which is why they survived, 'cause an indirect look would only petrify you. Thought I was gonna die that time. Just about did but Fawkes got there in time and slashed out its eyes. Killed it with Godric Gryffindor's sword I did, even if the damn thing bit me. I thought I was really gonna die that time, but Fawkes came and healed me and there might have been Flames too, but I don't really remember that part."

Skull's hand lifts absently to rub at the old bite wound, scarred and hidden under his clothes, before he shook his head. A frown crossed his face as he thought on what the Professors and Lucius Malfoy had done when he had stormed into the Headmaster's office dripping with basilisk blood, that black icor that came out of the Diary and dragging two exhausted Weasleys behind him, all the while clutching the Gryffindor sword.

The look on Malfoy Sr.'s face was one of fear, whereas Dumbledore's was pleased.

"I didn't realize it at the time, but it dawned on me later, that I finally learned I couldn't trust anyone save for a handful of people- such as 'Mione, Ron, the twins and even if that number grew, none of the teachers or the adults would be among them. I didn't see the manipulations until much, much later either. " Skull relayed his conclusions easily enough, his face relaxing its harsh lines for a brief instant, right before a bitter smile spread across his face at the thought of the next year.

"Thirteen is when I discovered the traitor that sold m'parents out was living pretty while m'godfather was sittin' in the worst prison in Britain, totally innocent and blaming himself even as he slowly went mad. 'Course, that wasn't Dumbledore's fault either, oh no, 'cause even if he did have the power to grant m'godfather his legal rights, he was from a bad family and he was just a Black after all and Blacks are all mad. Remus was his friend and he was m'dad's too so he was something of an uncle. He believed in Sirius, once the rat was found."

He laughed, hollow and entirely lacking in amusement. At the sound, many around the table stiffened, eyes darkening and mouths firming.

"Four times I spent time with my dogfather, he was my only livin' family member left 'til Bellatrix killed him. Lovely thing that, family," Skull spat out with hatred as his eyes gleamed in the darkened room. "Just because they thought I was a child and adults know better than children, don't they? Screw that bullshit. I had made sure, even with Umbitch that every single child knew how to defend themselves and keep others safe and take down every single scum that tried to kill them."

The rage and pride shining in his face was a thing to behold as Skull's fists curled and tears began to well up in his eyes again, as his voice lowered and grew hoarse.

"There would be no helpless victims, only those who went down fighting. That's why I ended up with an army in the first place. But that wasn't until later. Sirius died in my fifth year. It was fourth year that made me understand that I couldn't afford to be so lazy anymore. It was my name that came out of that goblet." Skull's lips stretched into a malicious smile. "Dumbledore was pretty pissed about that. It wasn't in his plans, you see. He made do, in the end. Even though I was only fourteen, not seventeen, I shouldn't have been able to participate, but they all said, 'of course he put his name up, he's only an attention-seeking child.' and 'let's give him what he wants' when I didn't want it in the least."

A harsh breath and a motion with his hands and agitated, Skull shoved himself back into his chair, letting his head loll back and his eyes close. There was a bitter, resigned quality about him.

"They forced me to compete. What did it matter in the end? I fought and got burned and they took Ron and 'Mione to the bottom of the lake and then I got Cedric killed, and no one believed me when I told them Tom rose again, but I survived. As I always do. Even when- especially when- I shouldn't have."

If Skull had been sober, he would have most likely stayed in that mindset and probably spent much longer thinking of Cedric Diggory, but as he was not in possession of all his wits, his mind took him to the aftermath. Barty Crouch Jr being Kissed, the Minister denying everything and Dumbledore doing nothing as the Blood Wars began again. With no one believing but the enemy and schoolchildren.

"The Daily Prophet lead a smear campaign on me how I was going dark, gonna be the next Voldemort, how I was a liar and of course, the Prophet is never wrong so the rest of the people believed it. That pissed me off, but I would deal with it. It was worse when I started dreaming in fifth year, when Umbitch came and that toad made us write lines that carved the words on the back of our hands. I made sure that I was the loudest and told everyone to keep quiet, especially after McGonagall told me to keep my head down when I tried to tell her."

There was a pained twist to that name, to those words, but Skull's face lit up in remembered satisfaction and pride when he spoke about the army 'brilliant, beautiful 'Mione' laid the foundations to rise on. 'Members from all fours houses, all seven years.'

"The Slytherins I trained from the DA, made sure to raid the infirmary for medical supplies after one of ours was threatened with her mom's job at the Ministry. They fed information to us to help coordinate our efforts to smuggle families out of the country, to keep us aware of enemy movements and anything else they heard."

Colonello stares in shock and slight incomprehension.

Schoolchildren building an army and somehow gaining enough connections, supplies and resources to smuggle people out of the country? What situation was happening that this was even necessary? Where is Skull talking about?

Mammon looks sick and pale, their hands shake, but none notice their understanding, their dawning comprehension, as the Arcobaleno stare at their Cloud.

"Viktor was in love with 'Mione, and it was mutual. He fought to ensure she knew what she was getting into and frankly, without his help, we would have lost a lot more people. In the middle of the year, during the height of Umbitch's reign, several of the seventh years left early. We all had jobs to do. Forge and Gred went out with a bang, making sure all attention was on them so a disappearance wouldn't be noticed until there was nothing left to be done about them."

A fond, wistful smile curls Skull's lips as he speaks in a smooth, soft tone, even as tears glimmer in his eyes.

"I gave them my winnings from that thrice-damned tournament so they could start a joke shop. They knew enough to start making things to help with the DA since they were free now. We needed their inventions as well. Merlin knows we wouldn't have successfully raided several of Tom's bases if it were for their Instant Darkness powder, among other things. Most of us survived the school almost to the end of the year with our sanity intact. All of us ran so many drills, and spars were a daily occurance. But then…"

Skull's voice trailed off and he coughed hoarsely before he spoke again, in harsher tones.

"I had dreams, dreams of the killing and the torture and the blood, every single night and I avoided sleeping for as long as I could. I was a mess. And then, then I saw Sirius. I wasn't going to lose him, I wasn't going to let them kill him!"

His breath hitches, and he shudders, bowing forward with the weight of his emotions.

"'Mione and Ron, the others I trained, those that believed me, those that were willing to risk their lives, they came with me. Nev, Luna and Ginny, we all took off in the middle of the night and made it to the Ministry, to the Department of Mysteries. It was a trap, they were waiting for us. For me. In the end, Sirius… Sirius died." Skull doesn't look up as his voice dies down to a whisper and Reborn watches as his shoulders tremble and his fists tighten around his arms.

Leon is still on the brim of his hat.

"The Ministry," Skull speaks again, his voice gaining strength, "the Ministry saw him. There were others, witnesses other then us. They couldn't deny that he was back. I was vindicated, no longer a liar, but Sirius was still dead."

Yanking a hand across his tear-stained cheeks, he reached for a bottle of alcohol, poured it with a shaky hand and downed that before he continued, anger and satisfaction waring in his tone.

"Even though 'Mione took care of Umbitch before we left for the Ministry, even though my people started speaking out to raise awareness, the next year was worse. Snape killed Dumbledore, as he was ordered, and to spare Draco from doing it himself. Snape swore to protect him, you see, and Voldemort got his hands on him. Marked him, for the Cause. That stupid ferret. He was a bully, but so, so stupid."

Harry pressed his head into the wood of the table, where he took a moment to breathe. Draco's actions followed him for the rest of his life. He suspects, that he learned enough to teach his son differently, but Harry hasn't seen or heard from either Draco or Scorpius in years.

"Snape became the Headmaster. We- Ron, 'Mione and I- we went on the run some time after that…just after George lost an ear and Mad-Eye's death There was some happiness, in the middle of all the death, as Remus and Tonks got married, along with Bill and Fleur. Even if the ministry was attacked and fell right during the middle of the latter's. There went the Minister, as useless and much too late to do anything just as his predecessor was. It was just Death Eaters in power, in the Ministry, in the school, in the presses. A successful coup d'etat. "

Skull paused then, relaxing his body and easing his feet to the floor as he sat back and finally leveled his gaze towards the former Arcobaleno as they stared at him in something akin to horror and shock. The emotions in his voice faded and his tone was soft, yet hard as steel.

"Traitors, they called us. Undesirable No. 1. with a list of crimes against the government. They plastered my picture everywhere, put a price on my head. They wanted me alive. Not the others though. Not my lieutenants, my commanders and my allies, just me. Ron was worried about his family, but he stuck by me. And 'Mione, oh Hermione was always the cleverest. She sent her parents away and had already packed just in case we needed to leave. She left word with Viktor, set up some sort of rudimentary communication device with him to keep in contact with how the war was going overseas."

A breath, something like an easy smile over purple lips.

"It was easy to leave. All three of us had things we always kept on our person, habit from when I was younger, that I had taught to all of those who would follow me, all who would become my army, but she made sure we had everything and extras. There were things we needed to find, to end him, once and for all. We ran from the Snatchers, sympathizers and frightened people who lacked a spine of their own, that lasted for about a solid year you know. Got caught and tortured a couple times, but we always managed to escape in the end. It wasn't until they caught us and managed to drag us to Draco, his father and Bellatrix that we finally had to stop. Malfoy Manor was literally a fortress in its glory days. There wasn't any way we were going to escape that place on our own."

All emotion vanished from the one they had all called weak and spineless, he looked as if he was carved from stone as he continued in a flat voice, still as a statue.

"They threw Ron and I in the dungeon and we stayed there, listening to 'Mione's screams for what seemed like hours. And then, when they stopped, they brought in Ron. He was screaming. Screaming as they dragged him away, screaming as he saw what they did to 'Mione. He loved her, not like Lavender, but all three of us were family, and everyone knew it." he paused and faint pride touched his face, "He stopped screaming when they started on him though. Didn't make a sound, apart from the Crucios."

Skull lifted his stare to the head of the table, not meeting Reborn's eyes yet giving the impression that he was speaking to him. A edge of malicious satisfaction, of pointed edges and a glint of teeth.

"When they brought me in, I thought they were dead. They were lying on the floor, blood on their faces, on her arms and on his chest. Bellatrix was smiling and laughing, but Draco… Draco was different and he let me win when I was fighting him. I don't really remember what happened after but I'm pretty sure I killed all the Snatchers. I couldn't go after Bellatrix though, no matter how much I wanted to rip the spine from her body and beat her to death with it. Dobby ended up coming and he took us away.

"He took us to Bill and Fleur's house. He got us out of that fortress, but he died because of it. I made sure to bury him properly on the seashore. I must have sat there for hours before Remus came by and told me he had a son. They named him Teddy and asked if I could be the godfather. I said 'yes', even though I knew where we would be heading. I knew I probably wasn't going to survive to raise him if he and Tonks died, but I hoped I wouldn't have to."

Holding the direction of his gaze, from Storm to Rains, to Mist and Lightning, for a moment longer, Skull turned away and he fell quiet. In his silence, the others didn't move, didn't speak or try to offer any comfort or sympathy.

He was almost grateful. At least they were realizing their mistakes. At least they were listening. They would have no excuse after this.

"We got a lead to the next place we needed to go. Ron, 'Mione and I, plus a banker, set out to rob a bank that had never been successfully robbed in all its centuries of existence. We pulled that off surprisingly well as children- barely even adults doing what so many before us had tried and failed. Then again, there was a treaty in place that kept Gringotts and us apart and with the war, who knows? Maybe they were helping us. In the end, we survived and returned to our school. The Defense Association set up a resistance, under my orders, and Neville took up leadership in my absence.

"It was a remarkable display of unity. There were people from all four Houses, working together under those that we left behind. Nev, Luna and Ginny were the leaders. They saved as many of the younger children as they could, waiting until I could get there, while gathering information and recruiting those who found that service in their Lord's army wasn't quite what they thought it would be."

Skull didn't bother with the alcohol any longer, too far gone in the memories of his past and shadows slithered across his eyes.

"It was all out war then. Us pouring over all the information we collected, listening to reports from Fred, George and Lee's radio program. We found maps of our school and rationed food, medical supplies, blankets. Carried out last minute training and the like. Then I called all of them, all those who stood for me, believed in him and they all lined up under their general. I think I gave a speech, I can't quite remember. They were brave, all of them prepared to defend their home. And then he came."

"Fred died," Skull whispered with anguish twisting his features, "Remus and Tonks too. Crabbe and Goyle, Colin and so many others. The younger ones were protected, mostly. My friends were strong, I had made sure of that, but they were against classmates, friends and family. The Slytherins especially, as they saw their parents killing and fighting and they were on the other side. It was war and they fought hard. All of us did. At the end of the day, there was a break in the fighting. Tom pretended at mercy and called for a ceasefire to bury our dead and tend to our wounded. But he also called for me to come to him. Offered to end it all and save everyone. Just me, he wanted."

Skull fell silent.

The others still hadn't spoken a word and had barely moved. It was Yuni, who had been quietly sequestered in the corner of the table that spoke up, her voice soft and pained, but strongly determined.

"What happened next, Skull?"

The Cloud threw back his head and laughed, the edge of hysteria clearly heard in its coarse, echoing tones.

"What do you think bloody happened? I stepped over the bodies of my friends and the faces of people I knew and people I had promised I would end this, and I walked straight to my death. Dumbledore raised a martyr after all. Tom lied, of course, but it didn't matter in the end. Turns out I was bloody immortal."

He shot a glare at Verde, vaguely triumphant and smug eyes shining in manic glee.

"You didn't believe me when I first told you, I saw it in your eyes. You thought I was just some kid with unusually pure Flames who didn't know what the bloody hell he was doing, when really the only reason I was into stunts was that I hoped a fall would kill me one day, and make sure I stayed dead. I am called the Immortal Skull for a damn good reason, as in I have walked away from things that should have- and did- kill me. Although that part about Death hating me isn't really true. If Death was an actual sentient being capable of thinking, I like to think he owes me for Tom Riddle."

Skull fell silent once more and was again prompted by Yuni, who ignored the barest of gestures that were made as if to stop her from speaking.

"And what happened after that?"

The Cloud shot a broken, bitter smile with an edge of amusement at the girl, the little Sky who insisted for the end for his story.

"I woke up and killed him."

Another large gulp of alcohol and he continued without hesitation.

"And then all the good citizens that hid in their homes and prayed for salvation, who ratted out my friends for their own safety, who exchanged information for food and favors, all hailed me as their Savior who, once again, defeated He Who Must Not Be Named. It didn't take long for that to end though. Spineless sheep. The reporters who targeted me as the next coming of the Dark Lord, after a solid year of being controlled by the Death Eaters, living in fear for their lives, were now free. Ironic, isn't it? They devoted their entire front page to denouncing me as a liar and an attention seeking brat- when I was fourteen- only to find out I was right, before Voldemort took over the ministry and demanded they print I was a traitor. Which they did, but after he was actually dead, and Britain hailed me again as their Savior they jumped right back on my bandwagon."

"I did mostly alright, after the war, but there were bad days, one when I tried to commit suicide and it was found out that I couldn't die from unnatural causes. The DA didn't care that I couldn't die, they were all pissed I tried to kill myself. Especially after I dragged at least half of them into therapy myself."

"Well," Harry amended, "Most of those who fought with me didn't care, but everyone else? Every single adult who sat home and didn't lift a finger to help, to try to do something, even if it was to smuggle those with lesser blood out of the country? It didn't matter, because in the aftermaths of the fighting, I lead my people to the Ministry. You would never believe how many people came out of the woodworks, all prepared to take up their previous jobs again."

Skull laughed, rolled his eyes in exasperation.

"So after helpfully informing them that the Ministry was conquered and reminding them that I killed the conqueror which meant the Ministry belonged to me and my people... I ordered everyone out, put anyone of my people who wanted an office, in charge. Sometime after that, I left to get my head together."

Skull shrugged bonelessly, a humorless smile lifting his lips.

"Being a stuntman wasn't like flying, but it was pretty close and I vaguely hoped a fall would end me some day. Accidents happen. It's not suicide if you didn't kill yourself."

A long silence followed his declaration. Reborn's face twitched without actually moving and Fon was wound up tightly, his tea slightly simmering in the cup his hands were wrapped around. Harry scoffed at the expressions the Arcobaleno were displaying.

With a flourish, Skull stood, astonishingly steady for someone who had consumed as much alcohol as he had in so little time, and deliberately set the empty bottle on the table. He blinked, deliberately slowly straightening his spine and throwing back his shoulders.

"Alas, that didn't happen. Thank you, Potter Luck for leading Checkerface straight to me. We were all cursed into the bodies of infants and I was physically incapable of taking care of my godson so I gave him back to his grandmother. I used letters and my Patronus to keep in touch with my other friends, but Teddy always knew my secret. When he and Victoire married and had kids, I would drop by and listen as they told stories about me to their children. I always left gifts and appeared if they truly needed me, but I tried to keep out of sight. Best to keep them away from anything to do with the Mafia after all. And here I am, thirty years later, the Curse broken and still looking as I did all those years ago. Won't they be in for a surprise? At least, if I'm still welcome."

He gave a soft laugh, a fragile smile stretching his cheeks.

"Teddy grew up and married Bill's daughter. Draco's son is in love with Viktor and 'Mione's daughter- hell, considering it's been thirty years they may be married! They're still telling stories about me, how brave and noble I was. How strong and how I cared so much. But here I am, trying so hard to forget the memories I have and I still wake up screaming every night if I don't take Dreamless Sleep. Even that doesn't help matters as it's so easy to get addicted to."

Skull laughed, hollow, bitter and broken to which most sitting at the table flinched. With a slickly flourish, he bowed, covering his unsteadiness with grand gestures, his features twisting into a sneer that accented the youthful features of his face that his normal makeup hid so well.

"And that is the life story of Skull DeMort, the Lackey, the ignorant and spineless coward, the weakest of the Arcobaleno."

Harry bared his teeth.

"The story of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Man-Who-Conquered, General, Lord, Chosen One and Savior."

He laughed again, shoving his chair back towards the table, out of his way, as if to leave and as the former Arcobaleno surged to their feet in protest, Skull's knees gave out and he crumbled to the ground. He moaned lowly in his throat and managed to mumble a pleading few words to whoever was holding him.

"…don't care anymore."

LINEBREAK

When Harry James Potter woke in the very late afternoon with the worst headache in three decades, his annoyed groan turned more into pitiful moan. Thankfully, he remembered having this wonderful quirk of being a powerful wizard in a now adult body and with a beautiful combination of magic and Flames, reduced his headache to an acceptable pain level. His mouth was as dry as ashes so he carefully fell out of bed, ignoring the way the Earth was spinning and wretched open his door. The blinding light of noon day sun almost changed his mind, but he could smell coffee.

Coffee was necessary for continued functioning.

He didn't notice, as he stumbled through the dining room trying to get to the kitchen, as every eye turned towards him and the murmurs of conversation died. His brain was incapable of thinking of anything save his need for some form of liquid. Preferably coffee. Or water. Or coffee and then water. Hangover potion would be best. Unfortunately, several obstacles were in his way, including navigating the kitchen.

Although just as he passed the table, a hand shot out, offering a hot mug of coffee in silence.

Unused to being offered anything without some kind of side or derogatory remark, he could only stare stupidly at the wonderfully smelling, life-giving drink that was in the vaguely familiar cup. He blinked, absently wondering if he was still dreaming. Because...that looked like...Reborn's cup? So he blinked again.

Yup, still there. Also the significant lack of both remembered pain, death and blood was an obvious sign that this was reality.

With exaggerated movements, he reached out to cradle his cold fingers against the warmth and sipped slowly at coffee infused with Sun Flames. To his still fuzzy brain, when a chair suddenly presented itself he only blinked once, accepting that miracles occur, before sitting down.

Maybe he was injured? Like in the Battles? Usually the Arcobaleno were somewhat nicer to him when he was recovering from serious injuries.

And thus Skull DeMort sat in blissful silence at the table, drinking coffee, unconcerned by how chilly it seemed and unbothered by the many pairs of eyes glued to all the scars on display on his shirtless chest. He was also unconcerned at the detention words on his hands, the Avada Kedavra scar on his heart, the whip lashes visible on his shoulders and the burn marks dotting his arms. The lack of his usual obscuring makeup and strategically placed bandages was not crossing his mind at all.

And he gave zero damns to the Deathly Hallow mark that was branded high on his chest, right smack dab in the middle, almost in line with the scar over his heart.

It took a full thirty seconds of uncharacteristic silence from the Arcobaleno for him to realize he wasn't wearing his gloves. Scarred fingers and short nails tapping on the coffee cup. Further observation revealed no coverings on his body, save for a pair of soft sweatpants. He frowned, staring at pale skin, the sight not really computing with his brain even though there were alarm bells ringing faintly in the back of his head.

"Skull?"

At the, dare he say, tentative use of his name from Lal Mirch, he slowly looked up from his puzzled look at his uncovered skin. Was she going to take his coffee away? Attack him in the name of 'toughening him up'? Which, pffft, he was Harry Potter.

"Skull," Lal repeated herself with a bit more confidence, a tinge of annoyance in her voice. She winced, ever so slightly at that sound, pressing her lips tightly together before falling silent.

He stared blankly at Lal, Lal who was patiently waiting for him to talk to her. Lal who was looking at him with…with concern? His gaze moved on to Colonello who was staring at him in the manner of his lover…no, but now he was looking away? In…guilt?

Harry blinked, slowly and deliberately, before a shimmer of orange caught his eye and he shifted his confused gaze toward the little Sky. Luce's granddaughter. Aria's child. There was something about the air around her that reminded him far too much of Dumbledore. That was the moment things clicked through the haze.

Like a bolt of lightning, the fog in his head cleared and every single warning and alarm now blared loud and clear in his head of his current situation.

He got drunk last night. So spectacularly drunk that he didn't give a damn to what came out of his mouth. The ensuing word vomit revealed his closely guarded secrets he had spent the last thirty-some years keeping, if the still foggy memories were to be trusted.

He distinctly remembered falling.

They were back at the house, so clearly he had been taken back, but in the process they had stripped him of his makeup, of his leathers, his gloves, everything. They had seen his scars.

Scars he had made more visible by walking out of his room shirtless, like an idiot and his brain had not even computed the fact that he never took a single article of clothing off in the presence of othersever.

Regardless of what had just happened, his thoughts were clear now and realization was dawning, which was followed closely by horror.

(shame)

But also anger, because how dare they! They had no right to know his secrets!

They hadn't earned that right.