Chapter 1 – What was in that bloody brandy?

…

I'm alive.

This was the first thought to trudge through Harry Potter's head as he slowly crawled his way back to consciousness from a blackout drunk. However, this was promptly complimented with a second thought.

Damn it.

It was understandable that he'd be slightly less than thrilled to still be among the living. His mouth felt like cotton and tasted like he'd been chewing on an old shoe, his head felt like a marching band parading about in a steel drum, each of his joints felt like they had been twisted backwards, and his stomach felt like a cruciatus curse was being fired solely at his internal organs.

In other words, not that great.

Observation: Mixing Felix Felicis with booze might not have been the smartest move.

At his stomach's insistence, he amended that thought. At least, I hope what I drank was booze. A cocktail of cyanide and bleach feels like it would be more accurate.

However, he was soon distracted from these thoughts by the sound of a soft, feminine moan and the feel of something warm nuzzling into his chest from where he was lying on his side.

Oh, shit.

Wincing in anticipation, he slowly opened his sandpaper eyelids to blearily peek at what his hungover brain decreed to be an obnoxiously and painfully bright room. Looking around, he was rather curious about the numerous pieces of furniture neatly arranged on the ceiling. He was also fairly intrigued by the riotous colors covering the walls like someone had unleashed a flying toddler and given it a few buckets of paint to play with. And he was also more than a bit concerned by the pairs of deep scorch marks that zigzagged across what he could see of the ceiling and walls. However, his attention was pretty exclusively taken up by the mop of tangled golden hair burrowed into his chest and the feel of soft but surprisingly strong arms he could now feel wrapped around his waist.

I guess the Felix Felicis did its job, he realized in amusement. I got lucky.

Unfortunately, his body decided to respond to his chortling with a stab of agony, making him groan, and this was apparently enough to wake up his mysterious bedmate.

"No. Kryptonite bad. Get it away," the girl mumbled with a pained groan as she removed her right hand from under the blanket to grab at her head, which doubtless felt about as good as his own did right now. As she swept her hair away from her face, though, he was shocked at just how … stunning she was. A delicate nose, bright red lips, arching cheekbones … even the sickly sheen to her skin and the bloodshot cast to her sapphire blue eyes didn't detract from her amazing looks.

Thank you, Las Vegas, he silently praised.

Just then, he realized that she was staring back into his own bloodshot emerald eyes from half a foot away.

"Who are you?" she asked, staring at him blearily.

Oh, this is just too easy.

"You mean you don't remember?" he asked in a weepy, choked-up voice. "Did I mean so little to you?" He managed to work a few tears into his eyes. "You said you loved me! Was … was that just a lie?"

Now, the poor, confused girl was looking at him in a panic as her booze-addled mind clearly scrambled for a way to fix this. Of course, this changed pretty quickly as his facade broke and he started bursting into snickers, which seemed to clue her in to the fact that he was pulling her leg. In fact, he could swear there was an actual red glow to her eyes as she glared at him.

Damn. She could give Snape glaring lessons, he reflected in amazement.

"My name is Harry," he relented, deciding to defuse what was starting to feel like an actual dangerous situation. "What's yours?"

"… Kara," she returned, her eyes finally regaining their startlingly blue but still red-rimmed appearance. With a groan, she started rubbing at her temple once more. "What happened?"

"You don't remember anything either?" he asked, idly noticing that she wasn't pulling away from where they were tangled together, a very welcome surprise.

"Not … really," she admitted, furrowing her brow as she forced her sluggish brain to start working. "I remember catching some crimi– … uh, finishing a job that took me to Vegas." He noted her sudden evasiveness, but didn't say anything. "And I remember deciding to see the sights, maybe celebrate a bit … but after that, nothing." This time, her forehead was furrowed in frustration. "I don't understand, though. How did this happen?"

"Well, just a guess, but I'd say alcohol probably got involved at some point," he suggested, bemused at her confusion.

"It can't be. Alcohol doesn't affect me," she seemed to counter without thinking, which she also appeared to regret a moment later, given her nervous glance at him.

"Really? Because if not, you're doing a damn fine job impersonating a girl with a hangover," he rebutted.

"But I …," she paused, clearly confused. "I don't suppose you've seen any green rocks around, have you? Weird freaky glow? Looks like something that might pop up freaking everywhere, for some reason? … Ringing any bells, by chance?"

"Other than the few dozen my headache's currently ringing in my skull, not really," he replied.

Suddenly, their conversation was interrupted with a groaned, "Less talky-talk; more sleepy-sleep," followed by another arm flopping out from under the blanket and draping across the two of them from somewhere behind him.

He wasn't sure whose eyes were wider, his or hers, as they both stared at that (thankfully female) arm in utter shock. Meanwhile, he finally became aware of the sensation of another warm body snuggling into his back.

The girl in front of him—Kara, she said her name was—mouthed, 'Who the hell is that?'

He could only shrug in helpless confusion. But before he could turn around to confront the mysterious third member of their little pantsless sleepover, he noticed a distinctive tattoo on her left forearm … as well as a very particular adornment on her ring finger.

BLOODY HELL!

With an agonized groan, he grabbed at his throbbing head. Quiet thoughts, Harry. Quiet thoughts.

However, his eyes suddenly flew open, and with a gulp, he lowered his gaze from the confused blonde in front of him to his own left hand …

… and the matching tattoo and wedding band he spotted there.

"Drunk-Harry," he muttered, "you, sir, are an asshole."

"You're married?!" Kara whispered in shock and horror upon spotting the matching tattoos and wedding rings on him and the mystery girl.

"I wasn't before last night," he quietly corrected her, giving her a meaningful look.

Her face suddenly paled as she understood his meaning, and her bulging eyes slowly dropped to the sheets covering them all … and her own left arm still buried underneath.

Swallowing audibly, she slowly extricated it from where it was wrapped around his waist and lifted it in front of her. And there, just like with them, was a simple golden wedding band wrapped around her finger, while coiled around her blanket-creased forearm was an identical green and black serpent with a crown of silver horns.

"Kal is going to kill me," she stated unquestioningly.

"Boyfriend?" he asked in both concern and disappointment, odd as it was.

"Cousin," she answered, much to his relief. "Though you'd think he was my dad the way he's always on my case." She groaned. "He's going to have a field day with this. I run off to Vegas, get drunk, get married—to two people, somehow!—and get tattooed. His head's going to explode. Followed shortly by my own."

"Oh, I'm sure it won't be that bad," he assured her.

He, of course, had to immediately be proven a liar, and so the final member of their little trio decided to give up her attempts at going back to sleep and instead chose to insert herself into the conversation.

"Ya' know, you two are really cuttin' into a gal's beauty sleep," she informed them both in a heavy Brooklyn accent, leveraging herself up and resting her chin on his shoulder, revealing wide, tired-looking crystal-blue eyes sparkling even now with a faint mischievous light, set within a heart-shaped face that looked like it was made for laughing. Shaking her head slightly, she revealed soft golden hair pulled into two high pigtails that gave her an adorable, guileless look, though that glimmer in her eyes made him question that look just a tad.

"Nooo," Kara breathed, looking at her with the most horrified expression he had personally ever seen, and he had seen Neville get detention from Snape, so that was really saying something.

"Hiya, Goldie," Not-Kara greeted her brightly. "Catchin' up with the hubby, are we?"

"H-h– … Harley?!" Kara squealed, her voice getting even higher than the aforenamed Harley's.

"In the flesh!" she responded with a proud flip of her hair. "Why? You was expectin' someone else?"

Since the goldfish-imitating Kara seemed to have lost her powers of speech, Harry decided to try catching up.

"So, let me guess … you two are sisters?" he asked, looking back and forth from one beautiful, blue-eyed blonde to the next.

"Wh–NO!" Kara practically choked on her own words, she was so desperate to deny that.

"Oh," he responded in perhaps a little too much audible disappointment, though the way her shout kicked his hangover migraine into overdrive, he felt like he more than paid for it.

"Well, geez, there's no reason ta sound that disgusted at the idea," Harley complained to Kara. "You'd be lucky ta have me as a sistah! An' besides, we kinda are now, after all." She wiggled her ring-clad hand at the extremely pale Kara, who was staring at that ring like a brandished knife.

"Am I missing something?" he asked, confused as to how exactly they knew each other.

"Don't you know who this is?" Kara hissed at him, still staring wide-eyed at the other girl.

"Hmm. I wanna say … Harley?" he guessed, looking up at the bubbly blonde resting her chin on his shoulder for confirmation.

"Aw, you remembah'd!" she cooed happily, planting a massive kiss on his cheek.

I like this girl, he decided as he took in her beaming smile.

"This is Harley Quinn!" Kara informed him dramatically.

"Oh," he responded before turning to Harley. "Pleased for sober-me to meet you, Harley Quinn," he greeted her politely, taking and gently kissing the back of her hand.

"Ah, such a gentleman," she complimented with a flutter of her eyelashes. "And that's Harley Pottah, now!" she corrected Kara fiercely. "Or … maybe Harley Quinn-Pottah," she amended with an uncertain look. "Harley Quittah? No, that's no good. Mmm … I dunno. We nevah really talked much about names an' stuff last night, did we?"

"Wait … you remember last night?" Kara asked in shock.

"Well, of course I remembah!" Harley replied indignantly. "It was the most magical night o' my life!" She gave a dreamy sigh and draped herself against Harry.

"Hey, Harley?" he asked, eyeing his new tattoo nervously. "We didn't, by chance, decide to visit a tattoo parlor or something to get these, did we?"

"Aw, so you don't remembah?" Harley pouted. "You gave 'em to us, silly! Said it was somethin' ya' learned from 'ol' Tommy boy', whoever that is." She shrugged. "All I know is, it was really romantic! Like we're all a part o' each other, now!" She sighed and smiled at her tattoo.

"Perfect. Bloody well done, drunk-Harry," he groaned.

Rather than ask, Kara decided to instead address the starry-eyed elephant in the room. "I suppose you have no idea that Harley Quinn is a notorious criminal, do you?" she asked Harry.

"Ex-notorious criminal!" Harley corrected. "I'm goin' straight!" She paused. "Well, straight-ish." She gave Kara a smoky look and purred at her, walking her fingers up the other girl's arm.

"Oh, Rao," Kara breathed, staring at Harley like a viper. "Please tell me we didn't … you know …"

Harley gave her a salacious wink.

Kara groaned and sat up, burying her face in her hands. "Forget kryptonite," she muttered under her breath. "I'm going to die of shame, right here, right now."

"You know, you was a lot more fun last night," Harley complained with a pout. "Maybe you should have more of sweetie's special booze. That seemed ta get the stick outta yer butt."

"Special booze?" Kara asked, taking her head out of her hands to look at Harley. "What special booze?"

"You know, the magicky kind," Harley explained like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The regular stuff wasn't doin' nothin' for ya', on account o' you bein' you an' all, so our dear ol' sweetie here offered you some of his secret stash o' magicky drinks to let ya' have a good time." Harley giggled. "And you certainly seemed ta have that. Even I could barely keep up wit' ya'! Seemed like you was way overdue for a party." She shrugged. "If you ask me, you've been spendin' too much time around ol' Big Blue, captain o' the No-Fun Brigade."

Kara went very still. "You … know who I am?"

"Well, duh!" Harley replied. "Ya' don't even wear a mask! And you wasn't exactly subtle about who you were last night. Well, not ta us, anyway."

"Perfect," Kara muttered. "Way to go on the secret identity front, Kara!"

"Aw, don't worry, hon," Harley assured her, reaching over to pat her on her knee. "We won't tell nobody. You can trust us."

This promise seemed to amuse Kara a great deal. "And what about you, Harry? You've been awful quiet. What are your thoughts? And where did you get magical liquor from anyway?" She waited for a response. "… Harry?"

The reason he wasn't answering wasn't that he was being rude. He simply didn't even hear her question. When Kara sat up, the sheet had fallen down to her waist, and he had been diligently staring at her breasts ever since. However, the sudden silence sadly pulled him back to reality, and he raised his eyes to meet her own flat look.

"I'm sorry, what?" he asked as Harley giggled behind him.

"I asked where you got magical liquor from," she repeated with a faint blush, though he made note of the fact that she still didn't cover up.

"Oh, you know … around," he answered vaguely, sitting up. Before she could speak, though, a wand appeared in his hand, which he gently waved at the surrounding room. Before their eyes, walls scrubbed themselves clean, scorch marks healed, and broken furniture reassembled themselves—and in some cases, surrendered their hold on the ceiling. Within moments, they were surrounded by a pristine room so neat, it looked as if housekeeping had just left. Well, excepting the scattered bits of clothing strewn across the floor, anyway. "Wouldn't want to lose our security deposit," he informed Kara cheekily.

"Incredible," she breathed, staring out at the recently destroyed room.

"Yep! Our sweetie here is a boner fide wizard!" Harley squealed proudly, wrapping herself around his left arm, the sheet barely clinging to her bare upper torso. "And that's nothin' on some o' the stuff he showed us last night. Ooh, ooh, show her the patrona-thingy!"

"I showed you two the patronus charm?" he asked, rolling his eyes at himself. "I'm starting to suspect that drunk-me isn't exactly a subtle creature."

"Definitely a fun one, though," Harley proclaimed with a grin.

Kara was too distracted to join in, though, as she gently traced a series of pale, nickel-sized scars that dotted his tightly muscled torso, following a rectangular arc from right shoulder back to right hip, as if a massive creature had bitten into his side and come within a hair of swallowing him whole.

"How'd you get this?" she asked softly, her warm fingers gently brushing aside the fine golden chain of his necklace as she traced the pattern of scars.

"Snake bite," he answered.

"That doesn't look like any snake I've ever heard of," she countered, noting the torso-sized bite radius.

"It was a really big snake," he supplied with a grin.

Kara rolled her eyes with a smile. "Whatever. We need a plan of action, here."

Harley raised her hand and bounced a bit. "Ooh, I know! How abouts we go for round two?"

"Round two?" Kara asked in confusion.

Grinning, Harley let the sheet fall down to her waist.

"I second this plan," Harry voted, his eyes firmly locked onto Harley's rather impressive breasts, which seemed to please her a great deal, given how she started preening and gently wiggling.

"No! No round two!" Kara hastily announced.

"Well, I guess it wouldn't technically be round two," Harley amended, tapping on her lips in thought. "It would be round …," she started counting on her fingers.

"Lalalalala don't need to hear this!" Kara cried, scrunching her eyes and plugging her ears. "The point is, no."

"Aw, c'moooon, Goldie," Harley whined.

"No means no," Kara insisted.

"Hmph!" Harley folded her arms and pouted before sticking her tongue out at Kara.

Kara sighed. "Okay, we seriously nee–," she paused and grabbed Harry's chin, forcefully turning him away from Harley's now incredibly emphasized breasts and making him focus. "We need a plan of action, here," she repeated.

"Uh," he replied, his brain taking a minute to change gears, "Oh! We should probably find my family." He turned to Harley. "You remember last night. Any idea where they are?"

"Hmm," Harley gave it some thought. "Yer cousin was still with us when we came back ta the room the casino comped us, I think. Don't really remembah when we lost the others, though. We was havin' a bit too much fun fer me ta pay attention."

"Well, I somehow doubt they spent the night singing Kumbaya and making responsible decisions, so we should probably track them down," he said. "Plus … I kinda need to talk to my uncle." He eyed their matching tattoos. "Urgently."

"Alright, sounds like a plan," Kara happily responded. Pausing, she eyed him for a moment before gaining a slight smirk. Without another word, she floated out of the bed towards her clothes, utterly nude.

Harry wasn't sure whether the heavenly choir he suddenly heard was real or just in his head, but it seemed appropriate nonetheless.

"Harley? What are you doing?" Kara asked, looking back over her shoulder as she pulled her skirt on.

With a shake of her head, Harley ceased her heavenly choir impersonation (and answered Harry's previous unasked question). Jumping out of the bed, she happily bounded towards her own clothes.

Harry suddenly started fearing the possibility of a spontaneous bloody nose. However, he was soon distracted by a rather surprising detail.

"You can fly!" he blurted out as Kara floated over towards her bra.

"You're just noticing that now?" she asked him with a teasing grin, as she had been doing it for the past several minutes.

"I've been distracted," he defended, watching as the mostly naked Harley hopped about on one foot trying to pull on a long, brightly colored striped stocking, and all the delightful jiggling this caused. "Very distracted."

Rolling her eyes and smiling, Kara resumed dressing, while Harley finally tipped over with a yelp in her struggle with her sock. After a few moments, though, Kara turned back to Harry, who was still in bed. "You know, unless you plan to walk around wearing a sheet as a toga, you might want to get dressed too," she suggested. However, her expression turned confused as she looked around at the rest of the room, glancing over Harley as she rolled around on the floor struggling with her tiny shorts. "I'm not seeing your clothes, though."

Harry grinned. "Don't worry; I've got it covered." He gently fingered the golden locket dangling over his chest.

"What, are they under the bed?" Kara asked, bending over and looking for herself. Harry responded with some strange hissing sound, of all things, and to her astonishment, when she sat up to look at him and ask him what that was about, she found him standing next to the bed fully dressed.

His boots were made of a strange, faintly red-tinged glossy black leather that had an almost scale-like pattern to them. Kara also noticed a few odd designs that she couldn't place delicately tooled into the leather at various points. Above them, he simply had on plain blue jeans and a black button-up shirt, but over that, he wore a leather jacket that, like the boots, seemed exceptionally well made and cared for, except it was also made of some strange leather she couldn't place that looked mostly black, but with a faint dark-green tinge to it as opposed to the faint crimson tinge of the boots, and it had an ever-so-faint snakeskin-like pattern to it as opposed to the scale-like pattern of the boots.

Her sharp eyes also noticed him tucking his golden locket into his shirt, only this time, on the face of the locket, she spotted an "S" made of small green gems laid out like a serpent, which was surrounded by strange runes and symbols she didn't recognize, but that reminded her of the markings she noticed on the boots.

"How'd you get dressed so fast?" she asked in amazement, wondering if he had superspeed or something.

"Magic," he very informatively answered her with a grin. As he snickered at her frustrated face, he looked over at the final member of their terrible trio. "How you doing there, Harley?"

"I'm fine!" she answered in a muffled voice, her head half sticking out the sleeve of her shirt as she struggled with it. "Almost got it."

"Oh, for Rao's sake," Kara complained, walking over and helping the girl with the unreasonably tight and inexplicably twisted garment.

"Thanks, Goldie!" Harley said, beaming up at the taller girl. "Phew! They really make ya' work for yer looks nowadays, don't they?"

"Well, you look beautiful, Harley," Harry told her with a smile. "You both do."

Harley's smile could light up the boulevard. "Ain't it great bein' with a guy that knows how ta treat a lady?" she asked Kara.

"I'll say," she answered with a smile at the bubbly blonde. After a moment, though, she seemed to realize she was being very casual with, as she called Harley, "a notorious criminal," and so she shook her head and sidled away from the girl ever so slightly.

"Well, come on," he told them, heading for the door. "Let's find the rest of my family before they end up in a war with the Mob or something."

However, upon opening the door, he came to learn that their room, as massive as it was, was simply one bedroom of an enormous and unbelievably lavish suite.

Or at least, it may have once been lavish. The entire thing was wrecked as thoroughly as the bedroom had been, if not more so, with kaleidoscopically colored walls, furniture that was either broken or defying gravity on the walls or ceiling, and numerous pairs of scorch marks blasted across practically every visible surface. On top of that, most of the kitchen seemed to have been turned into a winter wonderland, with thick layers of ice streaked across everything he could see.

That wasn't even mentioning the numerous large craters littering the floors, walls, and even ceilings.

"Oh, there's my panties!" Harley exclaimed, pointing towards a flimsy scrap of pink cloth dangling from one of the craters in the ceiling. "Yer gonna have ta buy me some new ones," she told Kara, for some reason.

"What do you mean?" Kara asked in confusion. "I didn't–…," Kara froze, staring out at the numerous craters in a very new light.

Her face would give tomatoes a run for their money.

"If anyone has any kryptonite on them, I would very much appreciate it right about now," Kara informed them quietly.

"Wait, if your panties are out here, why were your clothes in the bedroom?" he asked Harley, confused.

"Well, gentleman that you are, you summoned 'em after us when we moved our little siesta into the bedroom," she explained. "You said we shouldn't have ta walk around the whole place naked huntin' for clothes in the morning. Made this one throw a fit." She pointed her thumb at Kara over her shoulder. "I think that was her plan in the first place," she confided to him in a stage whisper. "Same reason why ya' had ta magic 'em back together after she tore 'em off us in the first place."

"Seriously, even just a regular green rock would do at this point," Kara continued. "I can make it work; I believe in myself."

"Oh, I do have something," he muttered to himself in realization, reaching into a silver-green leather pouch hanging from his belt that Kara hadn't noticed before, somehow.

"Is it a magical poison or something? Cause I would chug that down in a heartbeat right now," Kara said hopefully.

"Not quite," he answered, producing a small, old-timey-looking bottle. "Anti-hangover potion!" he exclaimed happily. "And good thing, too. I am officially over this headache." Popping the cork, he took a massive gulp, shuddering in revulsion at the taste. After a moment, his eyes flew open and, much to Kara's alarm, puffs of smoke shot out of his ears and mouth. "Whoo! Man, that stuff has a kick to it." He coughed, expelling more clouds of smoke.

"Are you okay?" Kara asked in concern.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assured her, waving away the smoke. "Potions just tend to come with bizarre, if thankfully brief, side effects."

"Like that Firewhiskey stuff," Harley reminisced. "That stuff let the buzzkill here burp fire! It was wicked!"

"And I lost my memory of that? Such a shame," Kara responded dryly. However, her expression changed a bit when Harry held out the potion vial to her.

"Trust me, it's perfectly safe," he assured her upon spotting her look of concern. "Unless you'd rather keep your hangover …"

"No … no, I'll take it." Gulping nervously, she slowly reached out and took the vial.

"Chug, chug, chug, chug," Harley began chanting.

"Strangely enough, that seems to be stirring some memories," Kara commented before squeezing her eyes shut and taking a quick gulp of the potion. Much like Harry, smoke soon billowed from her ears and mouth as she bent over hacking and coughing, which set Harley to cackling. "You know," Kara said, smoke still trailing from her lips, "between the taste and the hangover, I'm honestly not sure which I'd prefer."

"Well, let's find out next time," he replied with a grin, taking the half-full vial and offering it to Harley.

"Nah, I'm good," she assured them with a wave of her hand.

"What, so scared of some medicine you'd rather keep your nasty hangover?" Kara teased.

"I don't got a hangover," she announced proudly, much to their surprise.

"But … how can you not?" Harry asked in utter confusion.

"Simple: I didn't drink last night," Harley answered.

It took both Harry and Kara a few minutes to process this. "Wait … you what?" Kara finally asked.

"Yup. Simply soda and juice fer this gal! Alcohol makes ya' act crazy," she proclaimed with a grin.

Kara's jaw was in serious danger of falling off her face at this point. "Wait a minute … let me get this straight," she started slowly. "Are you telling me … that all of this," she waved at the utter desolation surrounding them, "plus Rao knows what else we all did last night … was all while you were sober?!"

"I like ta have fun," Harley answered with a shrug. "And a lot of it was yer doin', really. Ya' seemed pretty pent up."

Kara stared at her before raising her tattooed and beringed left hand. "Alright, you know what? I've been in pretty serious denial about this for the last hour," she admitted, "but we are MARRIED!" By the sound of her near shriek, she wasn't in denial about this anymore. "The three of us! Bound together in very unholy matrimony!"

"Ah, it was a lovely ceremony," Harley reminisced with a dreamy sigh. "I always wanted ta be married by the king."

"We were married by a king?" a very confused Harry finally entered the conversation.

"Oh, not just a king. The King!" Harley proudly boasted. "Elvis himself!"

He didn't quite know how to break this to her. "Um … I think there's a chance he may have been an impersonator, Harl," Harry regretfully informed her. "Seeing as Elvis is, you know, dead and all."

Harley gasped in horror. "Bite your tongue, heathen!" she scolded him furiously.

Kara was apparently displeased as to the nature of their conversation. "You, a renowned criminal," she accused Harley in a strangled voice, "married a total stranger," she pointed at Harry, "and a superhero," she pointed at herself, "… while SOBER?!"

Somehow, Harry's instincts were telling him that Kara was somewhat distressed by the fact that Harley couldn't claim intoxication as her reason for being a part of their little ménage à terror.

"Alright, Calming Draught time!" he announced to all parties involved, digging another small bottle out of his mokeskin pouch.

"No! I don't want any potion!" Kara apparently didn't care for his very reasonable suggestion. "I want answers! I want retribution!" And she was also apparently heading the way of Hermione that day she accidentally knocked over her cauldron in the middle of her Potions final and was informed by Snape that she had flunked the test. Harry decided a similar response was called for, too, and so he began twirling his wand over the potion in the vial.

"I want to destroy any evidence that any of this even happened! I want to tear this place down brick by freaking brick and salt the ground where it once stood!" the thoroughly snapped Kara continued ranting, still quoting Hermione practically word for word as a nervous Harley backed away slowly. Harry, meanwhile, simply stepped in front of the nearly insensate and now crimson-eyed Kara and flicked his wand, sending the newly transfigured cloud-form of potion puffing straight into her face and lungs.

Kara coughed a bit, and slowly, the burning red glow faded from her eyes and a gentle, dopey smile spread across her face.

"Feel better?" he asked her with a smile.

"Yeah, man, I'm gooood," she slurred, swaying side to side ever so lightly. "Why was I even freaking out so much, man? Our little deal just means we got ourselves a little extra looove to share, that's all," she continued, draping her arms around his neck and flopping against him. "Too much love never hurt nobody, now did it? That'd be like saying all the peace in the world is killin' ya!" Kara giggled at her own words as she looked at them both with half-lidded eyes. "Hey, you got any snacks?"

"Can I get some o' that stuff?" Harley asked hopefully.

"Maybe later, Harl," he told her, draping an arm of the gently giggling Kara over his shoulders as he led the way in exploring the rest of their ginormous suite.

"Why is there a chicken in here?" he asked Harley after inexplicably stumbling over one of the fowl creatures.

"Where else would we keep it? Outside? It'd run away," Harley answered.

"Right. Of course," he responded. "Silly me."

"Dude … look at my freaking hand!" Kara happily slurred, staring at her palm. "It's freaking crazy! I can see all the tiny little atoms in my skin. Hello, little guys!" She giggled and started making faces at her hand. "I think I shall call this one Ferdinand. Harley, say hello to Ferdinand!"

Harley squawked as Kara unceremoniously shoved her hand in her face.

"Oh. I don't think he likes you," Kara lamented, pouting at her hand. "Hey, sofa pizza!" the inebriated girl exclaimed happily upon spotting an upturned pizza box on one of the few remaining floor-bound couches. "Score!"

Unfortunately, when Harry tried to enforce some standards on the girl and keep her away from it, she simply dragged him along with her as if he weighed nothing.

"Yeah, she's super strong," Harley informed him as Kara started digging into the slightly linty pizza. "Ain't nobody gonna be keepin' that girl from her pizza."

"Okay, so Kara can fly, is hella' strong, needs magic booze to get drunk, has super vision—or might just be completely stoned out of her gourd—and has issues with green rocks," Harry listed off. "Now it all makes sense!" he finished sarcastically.

"She can also shoot lasers outta her eyes," Harley informed him, gesturing to the nearly checkered walls.

"And see through stuff," Kara added, smirking and running her eyes up and down his body while munching on more sofa pizza.

Before he could respond to her super ogling, though, they heard a faint groan from somewhere deeper in the apartment.

"Hra fhuk whuz zhat?" Kara asked through a mouthful of fuzzy pizza.

"Um … Harley?" Harry asked nervously.

"Yes, sweetie?" she asked.

"It was only the three of us who got married … right?"

"Um … I think so," she answered as he hesitantly moved towards the source of the sound, Kara and Harley following close behind. As they came up to the door of the bathroom it seemed to have come from, however, they also began hearing the sound of constantly running water.

Ignoring the two trenches burned across the surface of the door, Harry turned the knob and opened the door.

"Oh, it's just my cousin," he announced in relief, stepping into the finely furnished bathroom, which struck an odd counterpart to the rest of the suite, given that it was still mostly intact. Of course, his unconscious, half-dressed cousin laying sprawled halfway inside the running shower kinda took something away from the elegance of the furnishings.

"Ah, Nymmy," he said with a fond smile as he stepped over her tattered Weird Sisters shirt and one of her clunky boots. "Refined as ever, I see."

His pink-haired cousin gave a slight cough from time to time as what at this point had to be just ice-cold water made it into her gaping, snoring maw, but she was clearly too out of it to be bothered. She simply lied there, jean-clad legs and half-booted feet flopped over the tile while her top half, clad only in a purple bra and wrapped in what looked like a torn shower curtain being used as a blanket, lied under the constant stream of freezing water. Although, Harry found himself rather curious about exactly where that shower curtain had come from, given that this shower used doors.

"Just like her to use up all the hot water, too," he complained with a shake of his head.

"This is your cousin?" Kara asked, surprisingly coherently. "Wait, am I eating sofa pizza? Blegh!" She dropped the linty slice and started picking hairs off her tongue with a grossed-out look.

"Oh, good, you're back. I was worried I'd be introducing my new wife to my family while she was still high as a kite, and while I'm sure Sirius would approve, I think you might have regretted that first impression later," he said. "And yeah, this is my cousin, the ever-classy Nymphadora Tonks."

The girl in question gave what looked like a sleepy but enraged flail of her arms upon hearing the-name-that-must-not-be-spoken, but she was still too out of it to wake up.

"I like the hair!" Harley complimented, eyeing her neon-pink locks. "And her name is adorable! I love it!"

"And I'm sure she'll be so very glad to hear that, assuming we can wake her up," he replied with a grin.

"How do we do that? She seems pretty far gone," Kara commented.

"Well, normally, this would be where I'd douse her with freezing-cold water or something, but that seems a bit redundant at this point. Hmm." Harry tapped his chin in thought. "Oh! Here we go"

He stepped forward and took a deep breath. "NYMPHADORA!" he shouted.

"HnghDontcallmenymphadora," she mumbled, flailing her arms aggressively, but still unconsciously.

"Wow, she is out of it! Normally, that'd get her up swinging!" he remarked. "Alright, it's time for the big guns." Rolling up his sleeves, he carefully drew his wand. "Uh, you might want to stand back," he warned the girls. With a nervous glance at each other, they retreated to the far wall. "Okay … here goes nothing!" Taking another deep breath, he dramatically intoned, "Rictusempra!"

A bolt of silver light struck her stomach, Nym's eyes flew open, and she started laughing. Not just delicate giggles, either, but full-pelt, clutching her sides cackling.

Understandable, since he'd just hit her with a very powerful tickling charm.

"Harry!" she squealed, glaring furiously at him through tears of laughter as she rolled around on the bathroom floor.

"Yeah, I bet that just feels great with your hangover, doesn't it?" he asked smugly while she flopped and thrashed and kicked as she laughed.

"Turn … it … off!" she begged between bouts of gasping laughter, looking decidedly green around the gills.

"Not until you say it!" he informed her, smirking widely and twirling his wand.

"Hate … you!" she rasped in between cackles as she thrashed helplessly, still clutching her sides.

"Saaay iiiiit," he sang at her.

Glaring at him murderously through reddened, watery eyes, she finally caved. "Nym … pha … dora!" she got out.

"That's my girl," he gloated, waving his wand and ending the enchantment.

"You … suck!" she informed him as she gasped for breath, random giggles still breaking free.

"Love you too, cuz," he replied with a grin.

She glared at him. "Sleep … with one eye … open," she warned him as she massaged her aching abs and tried to soothe her pounding headache.

"Like I do anything else with Sirius under the same roof," he pointed out.

"… Touché," she admitted before flopping back against the cool tile with a groan.

"Interesting tactic for waking someone up," Kara commented as he reached in and shut off the shower at last.

"Gives me some ideas," a grinning Harley said thoughtfully.

Raising her head, Nym looked at them in confusion. "Who're the birds?" she asked him.

"Oh, where are my manners? Nym, this is Kara," he pointed at Kara, who gave a little wave, "and Harley," who gave a dramatic curtsy when he pointed at her.

"Um … did you, or did I?" Nym asked him as she spotted the wrinkled clothes indicating … "overnight guests," as it were.

"I did," he answered her.

"Aww. But good on you, cuz," she complimented. "Wotcher," she greeted the girls. "And whatever this lout told you, don't listen; I will respond to Tonks and Tonks only without getting violent."

"Oh, come on, Nymphadora," he goaded her. "You know you lov–YOW!"

"Case in point," she bragged as he hopped in place clutching his stinging buttock. She blew on the tip of her wand like it was a smoking gun.

"Where the hell were you even hiding that thing?" he asked her, rubbing his rapidly forming welt.

"Trade secret," she replied as she held up a hand for him to help her up. Begrudgingly, he did so.

"Gah, bloody hell!" she complained, hunched over and clutching her soaking-wet head, the shower curtain draped across her shoulders like a poncho. "My head feels like a box of bludgers!" Clasping her mouth, she continued, "And my stomach feels like I ate some of Hagrid's rock cakes." A grin showed behind her hand. "Must have been some party."

"I take it you don't remember anything either?" he asked.

"Other than daring you to take all those shots before we headed out, you mean?" she chuckled, but cut off with a groan as she clutched her head. "Yeah, I don't remember nothing." She froze upon spotting his new tattoo peaking past his sleeve. "Did you get a tattoo?!" She sounded absolutely delighted at the prospect. "Oh, my little cousin is all grown up!" she teasingly cooed as she wrapped him in a stranglehold and tousled his hair. "First trip to Vegas, and you've already done something drunk and stupid that will stick with you for the rest of your life! I've never been so proud!"

"Yeah, hold onto that thought," he muttered as he untangled himself from his soaking-wet and half-naked cousin.

"What do you mean?" she asked curiously.

Harry looked at the girls, and as one, they raised their left hands, showcasing the matching wedding bands.

Nym stared at them silently for several seconds. But when that silence was broken, the cackling she did put to shame anything she did earlier.

Pursing his lips, he stared at his cousin as she rolled on the ground guffawing. Drawing his wand, he fired a blast of water at her.

"Harry!" she yelled out as she choked. However, the moment he stopped, her eyes fell on their rings once more, and she started cackling all over again.

Sighing, he started shepherding Kara and Harley towards the door. "Come on. I think NYMPHADORA," he said extra loud to make sure she'd hear it over her insane laughter, "could use a quiet minute to herself."

"Ya' sure she's okay?" Harley asked, looking concerned as they stepped into the hallway.

"Oh yeah, she's fine," he assured her, closing the door all but a crack before sticking his wand back in the room and firing off another stream of ice-cold water at his cousin.

"Harry, you son of a bitch!" she shouted between cackles.

"See? Totally fine," he repeated, closing the door.

"So that's your cousin found," Kara pointed out. "Who all do we still have to look for?"

"My nanny, Remus, and my mutt, Sirius," he listed off.

"You brought yer dog ta Vegas?" Harley asked, her eyes gleaming. "That is awesome!"

"Can you even do that?" Kara asked.

"Oh yeah, it's fine," he assured her with a laugh. "He's housebroken. Well, mostly, anyway."

Behind them, the bathroom door clicked open, and Nym stepped out fully dressed, if still dripping and ragged looking. Well, staggered out would be more accurate, given that she was hobbling like an old woman. However, Kara did a double-take upon spotting lanky brown hair rather than her previous bubblegum-pink locks.

"Alright, hand it over, Har. I know you're packing," Nym groaned at him, her recent bout of laughter clearly not sitting well with her massive hangover.

"Why, whatever do you mean, dear cousin Nym?" he asked sweetly.

"You know what I'm talking about," she said, glaring at him with red-rimmed eyes. "Hangover potion. Now." She heaved slightly and grabbed her mouth. "Hurry."

"Now, is that any way to ask for something, Nym?" he taunted. "Surely Aunt Andy taught you better than that."

"Oh, you are just loving this, aren't you?" she asked, groaning and clutching her stomach.

"You have no idea," he answered with a shameless smile, looking like that cat that caught the canary.

"Ah, come on. I'm dyin' here, man!" she whined, her hair turning a sickly green to reflect her current state, something both Kara and Harley especially seemed to find fascinating.

"You know, I really would," he answered slowly and with a shit-eating grin, "but wouldn't it be selfish of me to reward you for your lack of preparedness? I think our dear friend Mr. Moody in particular would rather disapprove of you coming somewhere like Vegas and not thinking ahead enough to pack a few hangover cures, and I know he would advocate you learning your lesson the hard way."

She glared at him before stepping closer. "One. Eye. Open," she hissed with her nose brushing his before turning and hobbling towards the door.

"It's for your own good, Nym!" he called after her with a laugh. "You'll thank me for this someday!"

Given the rude gesture she threw him over her shoulder, that day was not today.

"Spare the rod, huh?" Kara asked him with a giggle.

"I know, right? Kids these days," he replied with a smile.

"Didn't I tell you he was fun?" Harley asked Kara, beaming widely.

"Clearly, you were right," Kara remarked as he hurried after his nearly convalescent cousin.

"Where are you going?" he asked Nym.

"To get supplies," she answered. "Since someone is a huge jerk who won't share his stuff," she added in a mumble that she knew he'd hear.

"It is for the greater good, my dear," he responded in a pretty spot-on Dumbledore impression.

She glared at him before giving him a sickly sweet smile. "Oh, and I need to find Sirius and Remus, too, because I just can't wait to see the looks on their faces when they find out about your little … situation." She glanced at his ring and started giggling.

"You don't know the half of it," he muttered, clutching his left forearm. "Any idea where they are?"

She shrugged. "I was just going to sniff out the deepest, most shameless pit of depravity and indulgence I could find and see if I couldn't hear the dulcet tones of Remus complaining it was indecent while Sirius whined that it was too tame."

"That … actually sounds like a pretty good plan," he commented. "I was just going to stand outside and whistle."

"That's okay. It was a good effort," she said about as patronizingly as humanly possible, helped by her patting him on the head like a child.

"So, do we have a plan?" Kara asked as she and Harley caught up with them.

"More or less," Nym agreed. "And Merlin's wrinkled arse, why is this place so bleedin' huge?!" she exclaimed, as they still hadn't reached the door. "How in bloody hell did you lot get your hands on this place?"

"Winning," Harley answered for them pretty succinctly.

"Ugh. Finally!" Nym declared as they finally reached the door. "Wait, hang on. Has anyone seen my jacket?" A series of shrugs answered her, so she hobbled over and checked what looked like a coat closet near the door.

What she found was a small room filled to bursting with black duffle bags absolutely swimming in casino chips of all sizes and colors, and with bundles of thousand-dollar bills sprinkled over it all like pepper. And given that a few of the duffle bags had literally burst at the seams and were practically oozing more stacks of cash, it was safe to assume that the others probably weren't holding bags of gummy bears.

"Sweet Rao," Kara breathed.

"It's so beautiful," Harley praised in an awe-filled voice.

"You ended up taking that luck potion, didn't you?" Nym asked in a small voice.

"I did indeed," he replied, still staring at the veritable fortune he didn't remember winning.

Nym gently closed the door. "On second thought, I don't need my jacket after all," she declared, turning and heading out the door without another word. Harry and Kara followed after, though they had to come back when they realized Harley hadn't followed them out.

"Wheeeee!" Harley happily squealed as she rolled around in the money, throwing bills and chips into the air to fall down on her like rain.

"Harley, dear? It's time to come out of the closet," Kara said gently as she knocked on the doorframe.

"Never!" Harley insisted, making money angels.

"It's okay, Harl," Harry assured her. "You can come out of the closet. We're here for you."

"I don't want to. I'm never coming out!" she declared, burying herself in stacks of sweet green paper.

"You can't just stay in the closet forever, Harl. Now come on. It's time to come out," Kara insisted.

"No!" Harley yelled.

Kara groaned and looked at Harry. Shrugging, he held up his fist, and with a relenting sigh, Kara did the same, and they engaged in a quick game of rock-paper-scissors.

"Damn it," Kara complained after her scissors were beaten by Harry's rock.

"Try not to tear any of the cash," he told her with a smile.

"Yeah, yeah," she reluctantly agreed as she waded in after Harley.

"No! You can't make me come out!" Harley cried as she squirmed in Kara's steel grip.

"It's for your own good, Harl," Kara told her as Harry helped unhooked Harley's feet from around the doorframe.

"Nooooo!" Harley cried out in a keening wail as they frog-marched her out of the apartment.

They met up with Nym on the casino floor, a heavily pouting Harley still held between them.

"Problems?" Nym asked with a raised eyebrow and what by now was a literally sickly green complexion.

"Nothing an intervention couldn't solve," he told her, deftly avoiding Harley's attempt to kick his shin. "What are you waiting around here for?"

In answer, a waiter arrived bearing a pitcher of Bloody Marys.

"Ah. Your supplies, then," Harry interpreted with a roll of his eyes.

"My salvation," the still extremely hungover Nym croaked in correction, snatching the pitcher off the platter, "for I am a sinner in the hands of an angry God." Raising the pitcher overhead, she bowed her head in prayer. "Bloody Mary, full of vodka, blessed are you among cocktails. Pray for me now, and at the hour of my death, which I hope is soon. Amen." Without further ado, she tilted her head back and began chugging straight from the pitcher.

All of them, including the waiter, stared in amazement as she quickly polished off the entire pitcher, slamming it back on the platter with a resounding belch. "And you said I didn't come prepared," she mocked Harry. "I've got my own hangover cure right here." Burping again, she turned to the waiter. "How much?"

"Oh, it's on the house, of course," he insisted, glancing at Harry, for some reason.

"Oh! Well … alright, then," Nym responded uncertainly.

"And anything for you, sir?" the waiter asked Harry.

"Um … I'm good, thanks," he replied, having no idea why he'd been singled out like that.

"Okay. Just let me know if you need anything, boss," the waiter told him before leaving.

"Uh …," Harry eloquently responded. Before he could get any farther than that, though, their increasingly confused group was interrupted by another casino worker.

"Good morning, sir," he greeted Harry, again inexplicably. "Would you like me to have the valet bring your bike around?"

Harry blinked at the man. "… I'm good, actually."

"As you say, sir. Enjoy your morning." The worker walked away.

"Okay, what the hel–"

"Good morning, boss." Again, Harry was interrupted, this time by an extremely well-dressed worker at the casino, which he assumed meant he was a manager of sorts. "Would you like me to go over our earnings from yesterday and important business for today?"

Harry stared at him. "Um, you know what? I'm actually a bit busy this morning. Can I get back to you on that?"

"Oh, of course, sir. It's no trouble at all. Enjoy your morning," the man told him.

"… You, too," he told the man's back. Clearing his throat, he spoke up again. "Harley?"

"Yes, sweetie?"

"Why are these people all calling me 'sir' and 'boss'?" he asked without turning around.

"Hmm … oh, right! You won the casino last night!" she remembered. "Sorry, I totally spaced on that."

Kara gave a strangled laugh while Nym began muttering about needing another pitcher.

"And how in the bloody hell did I do that?" he asked her in amazement.

"Well, the boss man wasn't too happy about you winnin' all that money, but when you two gots ta talkin', somehow, you all ended up in some crazy high-stakes poker game. One thing led to another …"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," he muttered in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose. After a moment, though, a look of alarm flashed across his face, and he started rushing towards the exit.

"Harry? What's going on?" Nym asked as they all hurried after him.

"Just think, Nym; if I did all this, then what exactly did Sirius do, and how much worse is it going to be?"

His cousin's skin turned chalk white at the thought, and soon, she was full-pelt running for the door.

"Well, at least he's not boring," Kara commented to Harley as they followed.

"You ain't kiddin'! And this is friggin' tame compared to last night," Harley pointed out.

"Disturbing thought," Kara said.

As they burst outside, Nym grabbed a nearby valet by the collar. "Quick! Where can I find a bunch of morally bankrupt idiots doing a ton of stupid stuff while plastered out of their minds?!"

"Um … this little place called 'Everywhere Around You'?" he answered nervously.

"Gah! This is never going to work!" Nym cried, shoving the poor attendant aside.

"That's okay. It was a good effort," he teased her with a pat on the head. "But now it's my turn." He looked over his shoulder. "You might want to plug your ears," he told Harley and Kara.

"Wait, what was your plan, again?" Nym asked. "All I remember was thinking it was stupid."

Rather than answer her, Harry simply whistled. Not just any whistle, though. This whistle was loud and shrill and long, and the longer he held it, the higher it got, until it finally moved past the human range of hearing … and right into perfect dog-whistle territory.

He had had a lot of practice at this.

He was rather surprised to hear Kara groaning in pain from the whistle, but he did hear what he expected. Namely, a chorus of dog barks starting up all over the city.

"And what is that supposed to accomplish?" Nym demanded.

Again, no answer was necessary, because one nearby dog howl changed to that of a man partway through, followed by a faint, "Take that whistle and shove it up your ass!"

"Yahtzee!" He started heading off in the direction of that yell.

"I hate that that worked," Nym groused.

"It sounded like it came from that alley over there," Kara pointed out, rubbing her ears. "At least, I think it did. It's kinda hard to tell, with this ringing in my ears."

"What, do you have super-hearing too, or something?" he asked.

"Yes," she said simply.

He stopped and stared at her. "Is there anything you can't do?"

She gave it some thought. "I can't cook," she finally said.

"Hey, me neithah!" Harley chimed in. "Wow, we're practically twins!"

Before Kara could respond to this clearly undeniable claim, they reached the alley they had heard the man's voice from. Unfortunately, they didn't see anyone. But Harry had an answer to that.

He gave another shrill whistle, and once more was greeted with the sound of a man's pained howling, this time from somewhere underneath a bunch of trashbags piled in front of a dumpster.

Those bags tipped over, releasing a pair of dogs that ran away yelping. More importantly, though, it revealed the bedraggled appearance of one Sirius Orion Black, who was currently clenching his eyes shut and grabbing his head like he was trying to keep his brain from escaping.

Or exploding.

"Whoever is on that whistle," he growled, "I'm going to kick your ass."

"It's me, Sirius," Harry announced.

Sirius cracked one bloodshot eye to look at him. "In that case, I'm going to kick it twice. Brat. God, you know how much I hate that!"

"So that's Sirius," he introduced to the girls.

"Wait, I thought you said Sirius was your dog?" Kara asked.

"He may as well be," he replied. "Look at him, all mangy and covered in fleas and everything."

"It'd be simpler to just say that I'm awesome," Sirius informed him, flopping over the trash bags in a remarkably failed attempt to climb to his feet.

"He's his godfather," Nym informed the girls. "I'd say he raised Harry, but it might be more accurate to say that Harry raised him. With the generous help of me, my parents, and Remus, of course."

"I see," Kara replied.

"He's funny," Harley giggled as Sirius tried to use the wall to stagger to his feet, only to slide back to the ground once again.

"Well, he certainly thinks so," Nym said. "But don't tell him; it'd go to his head."

Apparently giving up standing as a pipe dream for the moment, Sirius instead pulled out a tiny vial from his pocket, uncorked it, and kicked back the contents. After a brief and violent shudder, smoke poured from his ears and mouth.

Nym flipped Harry off before he could even say anything.

"Merlin, I love this town," Sirius said, climbing to his feet at last. "Man! What a night."

"You remember any of it?" Harry asked.

"Bits and pieces, mostly. Enough to know it rocked!" Sirius answered with his trademark dog-like grin. "I think some of it might have been a dream, though." He looked down at his chest to find himself wearing a tuxedo-T-shirt, which he had most certainly not been wearing when they headed out. "At least, I think it was a dream," he amended uncertainly.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Harry responded cryptically.

As Sirius looked at him questioningly, though, he noticed the girls for the first time.

"Well, well! Who do we have here?" Sirius asked brightly.

"Sirius, this is Kara and Harley," he introduced. "Kara, Harley, this is my godfather, Sirius."

"Hiya!" Harley greeted chipperly.

"Enchanté," Sirius said with a grin. "Now tell me, why would two beautiful girls such as yourselves be hanging around my ragamuffin of a godson?"

"Alcohol, low standards, and very poor decision making?" Kara suggested.

"Hey!" Harry and Harley complained in stereo.

Sirius snickered. "Harry, don't let this one go."

"Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that," Nym commented with a smug grin.

"What do you mean?" Sirius asked.

Harry glared at his cousin, who simply smiled at him sweetly. "Well, I was planning to build up to this a bit more, but I guess we're just telling you now."

"Telling me what?" Sirius asked, confused.

As one, Harry, Harley, and Kara raised their left hands.

Sirius stared at them in stunned silence, clearly counting and recounting the number of people showing rings, with his jaw dropping lower and lower each time he did.

Without a word, he raised his hand for a high-five.

"Really?" Harry asked dryly.

"I officially request the highest of fives," Sirius said formally, still with his hand in the air.

"They're standing right here," he informed his godfather, much to Kara and Harley's amusement, and Nym's exasperation.

"I, Sirius, Lord of House Black, formally insist upon a mutual hand slap between myself and Lord Harry of House Potter, heir apparent of House Black, lord of the Houses of Slytherin and Gryffindor, Defeater of Lord Moldyshorts, and by far the smoothest bastard this world has ever seen," his ridiculous godfather pronounced, his hand not wavering.

"Just do it," Kara laughed over Harley's giggling and the sound of Nym's palm smacking into her face.

Sighing, Harry gave him the high-five.

"Oh, your father would be so proud," Sirius weepily attested, still grinning like an idiot.

"A feeling I somehow doubt my mother would share," Harry commented.

"Meh, you're probably right," Sirius admitted before stepping over to Kara and Harley and throwing his arms around their shoulders. "As for you two, ooooh, do I have some stories for you!"

"Yeah, there will be none of that," Harry decided, drawing his wand and pointing it at Sirius.

"Oh, shi–!" was all Sirius got out before he was suddenly forcibly transformed into a large, shaggy black dog, causing Kara to yelp in astonishment and Harley to gasp in delight.

The dog shook his head and growled at Harry.

"Oh, bring it on, Padfoot," he challenged. "I'll drag you to the vet for a little … operation."

Yelping, the giant hound baked away cautiously.

"You … turned him into a dog," Kara processed.

"An adorable dog!" Harley declared, causing the giant mutt to start wagging his tail happily.

Kara shook her head to clear it. "You turned your godfather … into a dog."

"He's fine; he does this all the time," Nym assured her. "Just watch."

Kara didn't need to ask what she meant, because before their eyes, that giant black dog transformed back into Sirius.

"Gah! I hate it when you transfigure me into Padfoot!" Sirius complained to Harry. "Nothing feels right, afterwards. It's like I'm wearing a coat on backwards."

"Well, then I hope we've all learned our lesson about story-telling," Harry cautioned the man.

"Yeah, yeah, Mr. Sensitive," Sirius grumbled in a pout, straightening his clothes and rubbing his neck.

"Sirius is what's known in our world as an animagus," Nym explained to the confused-looking Kara. "Those are witches or wizards who have learned to transform themselves into an animal. In Sirius' case, an overgrown poodle."

"Ah," Kara said in understanding. "So that's why you called him your mutt," she said to Harry in amusement.

"Yep! He's my dogfather," he said happily.

"And is this anything like how you can change the color of your hair, Tonks?" Kara asked.

"Oh, so you noticed!" Nym happily remarked.

"You're not exactly subtle with it, Nym," Harry pointed out.

Nym simply clapped a hand over his mouth and kept talking. "Actually, what I can do is totally different. I'm what's called a metamorphmagus. It's an ability some people are born with that lets them change their appearance." To demonstrate, she shifted her hair through a rainbow of colors, with Harley "ooooh"-ing at her all the while. As the pièce de résistance, though, she transformed her features into those of a dour, oily looking man with a hooked nose, greasy-black hair, and what seemed like a permanent scowl.

"Freaky," Kara whispered.

"Ugh, you have no idea," Harry groused, to which Cousin Snonks glowered.

"Potter! So like your father! Five hundred thousand points from Slytherin for breathing too loudly!" he/she declared in a flawless Snape impression.

"So that's what growing up with her has been like," he commented to the highly amused Harley and Kara. "Seriously, you have no idea how many times she's almost gotten hexed doing crap like that."

"Insolent child!" Snapadora growled. "Detention for thirty years!"

"So what about your 'nanny', Remus?" Kara asked, apparently trying to be responsible and get them back on track.

Sirius barked a laugh. "Well, if that isn't the most accurate description of old Moony I've ever heard," he commented in delight.

"He's my adoptive uncle," Harry admitted to Kara and Harley. "He's kind of a worrywart, and a total killjoy."

"Blegh. To put it mildly," Sirius complained. "Mr. Maturity, he is. 'Sirius, no playing Quidditch with baby Harry as the quaffle!' 'Sirius, no running a betting ring on wrestling matches between little Harry and Kreacher!' 'Sirius, no encouraging Harry to set Dumbledore's beard on fire!' Gah, he just sucks the fun right outta life!"

"Exactly! And Merlin help you if you sneak your favorite cousin a pint when he gets his first Hogwarts letter. Geez, you'd think I was poisoning him, the way he was going on!" Nym complained, finally reverting back to her own pink-haired features.

"I know! Ugh, it's sickening!" Harry agreed emphatically.

Kara stared at the three in astonishment, while Harley looked on in pure delight.

"So, getting back on topic, where is old Professor No-Fun?" Nym asked.

"Probably off scolding some poor, innocent degenerate," Sirius muttered.

"Hmm. While accurate, that doesn't really narrow things down around here," Harry remarked.

"Do you guys not have cell phones?" Kara asked.

"Shell what?" Harry asked confused.

Kara stared at him speechlessly.

"Wait, you mean fellytones? Yeah, I've heard of those," Sirius said. "They let muggles talk to each other from really far away," he explained to Harry.

"Oh, yeah. That's some of that stuff that runs on ekleticity, right?" Nym asked Sirius, to which he nodded.

Kara didn't know how to respond to this. "I … you … I have no words."

Sirius shrugged. "I don't suppose you thought to place a tracking charm on Moony before we headed out?" Sirius asked Harry.

"No," he answered in disappointment. "I didn't exactly expect we'd be tracking down Remus, of all people."

"Hmm. What if we sent a patronus message? Those things can find anyone!" Sirius suggested next.

"Yeah, and our plan for explaining the glowing, talking animal ghost to all the muggles around him would be?" Nym pointed out. "I mean, the colonies may not be covered by British magical law, or even have an official magical government, but still, bad idea."

"Fair point," Sirius admitted.

"Hey, guys?" Harley interrupted. "Why don't we just use Harry's casino ta find 'im?"

Sirius blinked. "You have a casino?" he asked Harry in astonishment.

"It's a long story," Harry told him.

"He won it in a card game," Kara explained.

"… Although, it apparently summarizes really well," Harry admitted. "But how would that help, Harl?"

"Well, he was with us in the casino for a while last night after the weddin', so they might know somethin' about where he went. Not ta mention there're cameras everywhere, so they might be able ta help track 'im down that way, too. Plus, those big-wig casino manager types tend ta know stuff that's happenin' in their town, so they might'a heard somethin'," Harley explained.

Kara seemed impressed at the explanation, and surprised that something like that came from Harley Quinn.

Harry, of course, had only one question.

"What the hell are cameras?"

Harley was apparently not prepared for this question, if her expression was anything to go by.

"I think it's some kinda food," Sirius suggested. "Sounds delicious, too. We should totally get some after we track down Moony!"

"What? No, they're …," Harley attempted to explain. "They're, like, these little things that do stuff and let ya' see things!"

This explanation was not particularly helpful.

"They're like electronic eyes that let you watch stuff that's happening from somewhere else, and they can record what they see so you can watch it later," Kara informed them, sounding somewhat like she was explaining the wheel to a bunch of cavemen.

"Friggin' muggles, man," Nym remarked in wonder.

"What will they think of next!" Sirius exclaimed.

"How do you not know this?!" Kara finally exclaimed.

"They don't have these things where we come from," Harry defended. "It's mostly just castles and broomsticks and parchment for us. Where you guys have technology, we just use magic, and for everything else, we have owls."

"Owls?" Harley asked, confused.

"Yeah, we send letters and packages and stuff by owl," Sirius replied. "Why? How do you do it?"

Harley turned to Kara. "They are insane," she declared.

"I still have no words," Kara responded.

True to her comment, Kara turned and started leading the way back to the casino with Harley without saying another word.

As Harry, Sirius, and Nym trailed after, they turned to each other and began snickering.

"I can't believe they're falling for the old 'clueless wizard' routine!" Sirius giggled behind Harry's hastily cast muffliato sound barrier.

"I know!" Nym snickered. "I can't wait to see the looks on their faces when I'm amazed by pens!"

A giggling Harry hastily shushed them as he let down the barrier and caught up with the girls.

"So, I've been meaning to ask," he said to Kara with a desperately straight face, "but what's the deal with all these horseless metal carriages?"

Kara was too horrified at the question to notice Sirius and Nym practically falling over themselves laughing silently.

Author's note: You know, my original draft of this chapter and story didn't have Harley Quinn anywhere in it, but then I asked myself, "Just who are you kidding?" So here she is! Also, in case it matters, the Harley I'm picturing and working from is closer to the Aileen Sorkin Batman: The Animated Series version of the character than the Arkham or Suicide Squad versions. Beyond that, the Harry Potter in this story is coming from a very different upbringing and personal history compared to canon (e.g. raised by Sirius and sorted into Slytherin, much to a certain dogfather's horror), even if a number of the canonical HP major events still occurred. The exact details of these differences will be revealed throughout the story. At this moment, however, Voldemort has been defeated ... again.

Furthermore, the roster of the Young Justice team will not be completely identical to that of the show, as already evidenced by the presence of Supergirl and Harley.

I'll also be writing this more off the cuff than my other stories, which should be an interesting exercise. I have the first few chapters outlined, but beyond that, who knows where things will go! Should be fun, though :)

Let me know your thoughts, and stay tuned for the next chapter, featuring Remus-wrangling, explanations, and confrontations with some heroes!