-Harry believes in a very different Frost.- When they actually meet, he cannot differentiate between disappointment and relief. "Faith is all he has now." [Slow-paced]

"The way to see by Faith is to shut the Eye of Reason."- Benjamin Franklin.

Harry exists. It is a fact in its most simplest form. He cannot recall the moment of his birth, and that is normal. Except, he cannot remember anything after either. The oldest memory he owns is of him shivering in the cold, too thin robes sliding around his skeletal arms. He remembers breathing. Remembers seeing his breath fan out in front of him. And nothing else.

Harry exists. That is important, he understands. That is what he must hold on to, he realizes. Nothing else. And yet, he wants to believe, too. Believe he once too had a home, a family, friends, the warmth that strikes him as foreign. Believe, because faith is keeping him alive; keeps his existence real.

He exists; this fact fills his head, keeps him level-headed on the earth. When he threatens to doze off, slip away, he is brought back by that statement. He exists. It is the tug of his heart every moment, a dull spark in the hands, the excitement bright in the children.

"Harry Potter," they whisper, as if sharing a dirty secret, before the flush in their cheeks threaten to choke them, and smile.

"Harry Potter," he repeats, because they believe Harry is Harry, so he is Harry, because what is he without faith? They say he has a scar, and he does. They say he has messy hair, and Harry pats it absentmindedly. They say he is a hero, and Harry is brave.

"Harry Potter," they say, over the spilled secrets in paper, over popcorn, eyes glued to the screen. Harry Potter, he knows, and smiles. Harry knows nothing but belief, exists by nothing but faith, and when the rest of his mind is unoccupied what is one to do? So Harry learns to believe too.

Harry is a very simple-minded guy. When he believes something, he believes in it with all his heart, his mind. He abandons it just as easily. But Harry believes, for what is he without faith?

The streets are alight with sneering pumpkins, orange and bright, and Harry does not like the look. Monsters hide behind ever corner, hands curled around little bags with treats; they smile with bloody teeth and ask for candy. Harry does not like Halloween. He always feel weak on that day, like he is wavering between existing and not.

"Look, Mommy, it's Harry Potter!" Carefully, Harry stills and turns around. A chubby finger is directed towards him, wide eyes, and plump cheeks.

A woman tugs at the boy's hand, kneeling, and says, "It's not polite to point, honey. Especially at the Boy Who Lived." The boy gasps, retracting his hand, and stares at the ground in anxiousness and shame. The woman leads him over to Harry, offering an indulgent smile.

Harry grins, kneeling next to the boy, and taps his shoulder. The boy peeks up from wet lashes, and Harry says, "My name is Harry, what is your name?"

"Fred!" the boy exclaims, giddy.

"Right," Harry says, "Nice to meet you, Fred."

Fred giggles, and pauses as if contemplating something, before fishing into his bag. He picks out a lollipop, presents it to Harry. Bemused, Harry accepts it.

"Thank you," Harry says, humble.

"You're welcome!" Fred shouts, and laughs. The woman checks her wrist, clears her throat.

"Freddie, we need to leave if we're going to make it in time. I'm sure Harry is busy as well."

The boy pouts, but complies. "Bye, Harry!"

He waves them off, watching their retreating backs thoughtfully. The lollipop is warm and tasty.

–

Harry is lounging in the forest when he first meets the Leprechaun.

The trees are not as tall as he'd like, too green for his tastes, but the wood comforts him all the same. He hears a shuffling not a few feet away, and falters. There is a rustle of leaves, and a slight menacing giggle. A tiny shoe tips out, and Harry blinks at the small figure sneering at him, bright red hair shaded by a tiny green hat.

Green eyes twinkle at him, and Harry grows uneasy.

"What do we have here?" The voice is a heavy kind of high, pitched to a painful degree, and Harry winces. The thing reminds him of a toad.

"A trespasser, if I dare say." The thing narrows his eyes, rubbing his hands together in glee. "Or, dare I hope, someone who made it to the end of the rainbow?"

"No matter, no matter," the thing says when Harry does not answer, waving a hand impatiently, and with a flick of his wrist, a parchment appears, attached with a quill. "You want a wish, yes?"

"A wish?" Harry echoes, confused.

"Tch. Annoying boy. Do you not know the contract of the Leprechaun?" When Harry stares blankly, the thing gives a heavy sigh.

"I'm the Leprechaun, yadayadayada, you sign this, I grant wish, you give me gold, got it?" He jumps over to Harry, smacks the parchment into his face. Harry grabs it before he receives another hit.

"Aren't the leprechauns supposed to be the one with the gold?" Harry doesn't like it when something he believes in is not real.

"Where do you think I get it from? Now hurry up, boy, don't got all day."

Harry surveys the bold letters carefully. There are only a few sentences, most pertaining to the exchange of a wish for gold.

"Where's the ink?"

The leprechaun sighs again, stabs the quill into Harry's wrist. The blood wells up and the leprechaun tips the edge of the quill into it, before offering it to Harry. Harry frowns, but takes it. How unsanitary.

His signature is slow, and edgy. The Leprechaun is not impressed.

When he finishes the last letter the leprechaun snatches it with a flourish, examines the print before grinning.

"Alright, then, boy. State your wish."

Harry falters. He has only ever existed, he doesn't need anything else. Anyone else.

"I wish for gold."

The Leprechaun looks annoyed, and prompts, "Not sure you want anything else?"

"I need gold to pay you," Harry answers, brows furrowed.

"Yes, yes, but the quantity, me boy. How much?"

"Enough to pay you."

"Why are you wishing then?" The Leprechaun hisses, and with a snap of his fingers, a pile of gold coins shower at Harry's feet. Harry blinks, leans down to inspect one. Carefully, he bites it. The wrapping yields to his teeth, and Harry flicks his tongue out at the chocolate, spits out the golden wrapper.

"This isn't gold."

"You never specified," the Leprechaun smirks, before sighing, beckoning him over. "Give me my gold."

Harry kicks the pile of chocolate gold to the small figure.

"Careful!" the Leprechaun hisses, smacking his feet, "This is my lunch, y'know, stay down."

Harry sighs, kneels down to the Leprechaun's height while he snacks on the candy.

"What are you?"

"Leprechaun," the small man answers, mouth working around a mouthful of chocolate.

"No- I mean, um," he searches for a word while the Leprechaun studies him.

"I'm not a psychic, you're going to have to talk," the Leprechaun says.

"Do you exist?" Harry ventures, and backtracks. "I mean, do you exist because people believe?"

"Ah," the Leprechaun says, nodding along, "I see where you're going with this. Tell you what." Red hair leans forward, a coy smile lighting his face. "I'll tell you in return for a wish."

"What do you mean?"

The Leprechaun grunts, impatient. "Wish for some food. A leprechaun's gotta eat."

"No catches?"

"No catches," the Leprechaun promises. "Your wishing for food is your payment for information."

"Alright," Harry says, slowly, before signing the document the Leprechaun provides him with. He wishes for a banquet and before his eyes, the delightful leprechaun summons a table of gourmet dishes.

Later, the Leprechaun dabs a napkin at his lips, smiling in content.

"I haven't fed like that in ages," the Leprechaun says, "I owe you my thanks, Potter."

"You can thank me by asking my earlier question," Harry says drily, having waited for hours.

"Ah, yes." The Leprechaun clears his throat. "I certainly survive off belief, but it's not necessary, understand?"

"Not entirely, no."

The Leprechaun sighs, before settling on a mound of dead leaves, snatching a twig. "Let me explain in simple terms so a dull minded individual like you can understand." Harry frowns at the insult, but ignores it to lean closer.

"I was the Leprechaun before Man was even aware of leprechauns, alright? Unfortunately, my kind died off a long time ago, though I don't know how. They were a dumb lot. I live by casting wishes. As you can see, I cannot conjure my own food."

"Why don't you just get it without magic?"

"It's not magic," the Leprechaun snaps. "Are you mad? I'd be killed as soon as I was spotted."

"How do you expect to get food and wishes?"

"They have to come of their own accord, you twat. And this is a solitary environment, there's not going to be a lot. The worst is they come home and make up stories. But I digress. The point is, I'm special than the rest of you. Or rather, just a small handful." Harry frowns, bemused.

"You were a child of Man before, weren't you?"

"Yes," Harry enunciates, since he is not so sure himself.

"I can smell it on you," the Leprechaun sniffs at Harry's hesitant reply. "Essentially, you are dead, despite the 'rebirth'. Your kind needs belief to even exist, it's how the system works."

"And if people stop believing?"

The Leprechaun smiles, simpers, "Well, it's best not to think too far ahead."

Harry quiets for a moment. "There are more?"

"Of course," the Leprechaun says, curious. "Have you never met any other?"

"Just you."

"Curious," the Leprechaun answers, giving him a speculative glance. "Must be daft," he declares, and Harry twitches.

"I'll tell you what, boy. You come here and make wishes for me to eat, and in return, I show you the world you've been missing."

"Fine," Harry says. It's not like anyone's missing him.

(Except for the children, but they have books and movies, and no, Harry's not really needed. Just the fact that he exists is enough to keep the faith alive).

The Leprechaun does not lie, and he shows Harry a world he never knew existed (all he's been aware of is Children, and their Belief). A world of merrows, fairy animals, so much vibrant life Harry has to take a moment and look, or he might miss it.

"Do children believe in you?" He asks a mermaid lounging on a rock in the lake.

"It's a freshwater one," the Leprechaun intones listlessly, to which the mermaid shoots him an angry look.

"I'll have you know me parents were from the ocean," she sniffs, turning to Harry. Harry notes the accent.

"Do you mean sailor children? Never met one."

"Ah," Harry says, pity marring his features.

"Skip your legs, Potter. I hear freshwater ones poison the drinking water."

"If you're idiotic enough to drink from the lake. I poison." Harry backs away at her physical appearance, darkened features, scales rustling. She softens at his retreat.

"Apologies. Come back later, boy, without the Red Man."

Harry nods while the Leprechaun scowls darkly.

…

"What is your actual name?"

The Leprechaun pauses in stuffing the corn bread in his mouth, swallows.

"My name is too complex for your tongue," he says, and seems to mull over the thought. "I suppose you may call me Patty."

Harry laughs, and Patty frowns.

…

Harry is hanging out with the freshwater mermaid ("My name is very long," she said simply, "your tongue will mispronounce. Call me Aegean." Harry thought that in itself was a mini tongue twister as well, and was a little put off at his poor tongue) when he first hears of the Guardians.

"It shall be winter, soon," Aegean comments casually, elbows drawn on a boulder, tail flickering to splash some water onto Harry's spectacles. Harry waves it away with weak magic.

"What of it?"

"It'll be Christmas, and joy to the world will commence."

Harry raises an eyebrow. "Have you not heard of Santa, Harry?"

"Santa?" Harry echoes, searching his memory. "Santa at the North Pole?"

"Yes," Aegean smiles.

"You like Christmas?" Harry asks.

"I enjoy the view," Aegean says, and Harry wonders.

"The stars," she elaborates, "are very bright on Christmas. Colorful. I cannot see stars in the sea. Blurry."

"I see," Harry says. Aegean's eyebrows draw together.

"Hopefully, no Guardian business will slow him down for this year."

"Guardian business?"

"The Guardians," Aegean says. "are a group fighter. They protect Children of world."

Harry blinks, interested.

"They protect Children?"

"Yes," Aegean nods, "they are most popular among Children. Except for new one."

"Who's that?"

"I don't remember the name, but he is handsome lad, I heard."

Harry muses, and watches the stars.

Harry enters the tree, closing the door behind him softly.

"Oho, so the man has decided to come home. Has he forgotten his duties, hmm? Some starving handsome leprechaun waiting to eat, hmm?"

Harry regards Patty with a deadpan look. "Why didn't you grab a mushroom from outside?"

"Because," Patty says condescendingly, "it is harmful to my health. The faeries will kill me if I touch it anyways. Inter-specie relations aren't very solid at the moment, I'm afraid."

Harry doesn't ask. Instead, he ducks under the short roof, grabs the blank parchment on the table, and scribbles 'banquet' and his signature on it. Patty is most helpful when full.

"Who are the Guardians?"

Patty chews on his bone, spits it out. "A group of justice fighters, or something. They're not very fun."

"I'm guessing your relation with them isn't very solid, either?" Harry inquires, rolling his eyes.

"I resent your tone," Patty drawls, snatching another leg from the half-empty bowl, "And I'll have you know, I am at a neutral tone with most of them. The humans, at the very least."

"They're humans?"

"Used to be. Like you," Patty says, ripping a slab of skin from his chicken leg, and throwing it in his mouth. Licks his fingers. Harry watches in disgust.

"I'm fond of the Frosty one," Patty says, grinning, "He caused a blizzard on Easter, did you know? Of course you don't. Unfortunately, they became all buddy buddy ever since he joined them, how boring."

"Who?"

Patty's face twists. "The Easter Bunny. He used to be a Pooka, and now he's just living as an egg-collector. Boring."

"I'm envious," Harry says, watches Patty carefully who reacts to the words with a barely concealed sneer.

"Don't be. They're just worshiped by humans. Nothing to be particularly proud of," he sniffs.

"I think you forget I was a human, as well."

"Different," Patty dismisses.

"Right."

"Why are you asking?" The lamp above them shakes, and Harry rights it before answering.

"Aegean mentioned them before." At the blank look, he elaborates, "The freshwater mermaid."

"Figures," Patty says, pats his full belly. "They're not a good lot," he warns, "the humans worship them."

Bitterness accompanies the statement, and if Harry notices, he doesn't say. (The Children worship him too, and if Patty notices, he doesn't say.)

A/N: When I say slow-paced, I mean Harry won't meet Jack in the first chapter. Otherwise, full speed ahead! If there is a pairing involving Harry, it will be Jack/Harry, hands down. Leprechaun will be a major character (at least for Harry, regarding the plot: eh). He is my favorite character and I am very disappointed he only gets a brief mention in the movie by Bunnymund. All zat history~ Hope you enjoyed. Reviews would be adored! :)