Backstory: After a year of helping with the reconstruction of Hogwarts, families that had been affected by the war and being hailed as the saviour of the wizarding world, Luna and Hermione were worried about Harry's well-being. Harry had been running himself dry; going to ministry galas and helping raise Teddy, despite suffering from insomnia due to trying to escape his nightmares. Luna and Hermione had finally had enough and convinced Harry to take time off and travel in order to get better for Teddy if not himself. Harry traveled around Europe for a bit before traveling to America; using practically no magic in order to blend in and keep a low profile. Of course, he ends up in Gotham - city of sin and violence - where he captures the attention of the Queen of Gotham herself.

Trouble would cross boarders to find Harry Potter.

Warnings!: Mentions of PTSD, Violence, Stockholm Syndrome, Harry being a sassy shit, Grey!Harry, Dursley Bashing, Mental Illness (Depression, anxiety, insomnia etc...) Child abuse. Minor Character(s) death, Sexual innuendos/contact, Mentions of Torture...Shit is going down, just so you know. Not for the Faint of Heart.

Disclaimer: Don't own anything from Harry Potter or Suicide Squad or anything related to Harley Quinn and the Joker.

Pretty Eyes

When Harley first stumbles upon him - she almost walks by. The figure had been a familiar one, one she had seen at nearly every street alley in this part of Gotham - a young man leaning up against a building with his head bowed. Indeed, her blue eyes had skimmed over his seemingly too large worn jeans, long-sleeved white t-shirt that fitted only somewhat better and a mess of pitch-black hair. It was boring, common, she had almost turned away -

Then the young man had looked up, his eyes meeting hers and Harley sucked in a breath. He had the prettiest eyes. Even in the dark alley downtown in Gotham, his eyes shone like bright, glittering emeralds.

Oh - those eyes, they fit nicely on his face too. Even with the slight gauntness from lack of food and the shadows under his eyes Harley could not deny the loveliness of the boy's features. The strong jaw, the cheekbones - the dark pink pout of his lips against slightly tanned skin...

He was so lovely - so pretty even though he wasn't smiling.

Harley hadn't had anyone to play with in awhile; perhaps she could make him smile.

However, before she could so much as take a step in his direction, the boy had began walking off. Harley tried to catch up, but somehow she managed to lose the boy on her home turf. It irritated the Queen of Gotham - knowing her latest person of interest had evaded her. She was quick to shrug the feeling off though when her Puddin texted her to join him in a bank robbery, skipping happily in the direction.

The green-eyed boy doesn't come to mind until she is gazing at the Joker's hair with the sudden thought that the boy's eyes had been brighter.

H~H

It is a week later when she sees the emerald-eyed young man again. His clothes are the same; typical of many runaways in Gotham. But they are also clean; significantly less typical. He is reading a newspaper, his teeth biting his lower lip as he flips through. Harley knows she ought to be in there somewhere, even if it is only a small section (though that is doubtful). She and her Puddin had pulled off three heists this week and had a nice fight with Batsy too; it would be a crime if they weren't in the paper.

Vaguely, she wonders if the boy would remember her.

As if to answer her unspoken question, his vivid green eyes meet hers even from across the street. They blink once, then twice before widening in recognition - his lips parting. Harley smiles and winks, a giggle escaping her as the boy glances down once at the newspaper then back at her.

Suddenly, his expression changes, and while that is to be expected , how it changes is not - there's no anger or disgust in his gaze, nor is there any awe or lust. There is just...annoyance; undisguised irritation and Harley does not know what to think when the boy looks up at the sky as if to say: "Really?"

By the time Harley is able to get over her surprise, the boy had folded the newspaper and walked off - disappearing on her again.

Harley feels the stirring of anger in her stomach. This was unacceptable. She was Queen and she ruled these streets - the people bowed before her, especially the people who had never met her personally. And even those that didn't would never, ever ignore her.

They feared the consequence.

Perhaps that's why despite her anger, Harley's never-ending curiosity reared it's head along with her hunger for challenges. Because if the boy knew who she was and still chose to ignore her - then he certainly had balls.

A smile spread across her face at the thought, a gleeful giggle escaping her. The next time they met - and they'd be sure to meet - Harley would make sure he played.

H~H

There was chaos.

Wonderful, glorious chaos.

It was in the terror of the tellers and customers at the bank. The lines of their face, the heaviness of their breathing, the sweat on their palms and the air smelt of it.

She could hear Puddin laughing - hear a woman and her baby shrieking...

That sound was less pleasing.

Harley didn't have a problem with killing men or women (because she knew how dangerous they could be) but children had always been a no-go for her. Families even less so...

She had been a psychologist once, she had met with children who had been orphaned, placed in homes. She knew the terrible things that could occur there.

Apparently, someone else did too. She heard a unfamiliar shout, heard the sound of a heavy object hitting flesh -

The woman had stopped crying and she heard an unfamiliar, accented voice urging: "Go!"

The sound of running feet...

The sound of something heavy being shoved up against the teller's desk. Puddin had stopped laughing, but his voice still held amusement. "Trying to play the hero, boy?"

"You're the Joker, right?" The male voice said as Harley made her way towards it, bags of money in hand. "Well, I guess I know where you got that from - you're make-up routine is hilarious. Did your kids do it?"

Harley makes her way around the corner just as Mister J's grin drops, replaced with a murderous expression. What makes Harley nearly drops the bags in shock was that it was aimed at a familiar young man gripping at the Joker's hand on his throat, burning green eyes gazing at him with amusement that is expressed only in his eyes. "Are you suicidal boy?" Mister J inquires, unknowingly quoting Harley's exact thoughts.

"Nope. I've just got a condition: it's called 'The Saving People Thing.' Symptoms include: reckless endangerment of oneself, attracting trouble like a magnet and little to no fear of self-injury and/or death." The boy lists without care, accent making the words flow beautifully.

There is a pause. "So, you are." The Joker concludes, looking slightly less murderous.

"No - 'cause I don't intend to die whenever I get in one of these messes - I just don't care if I do." The green-eyed young man corrects, looking serious. "Trust me, there's a difference."

"Well, as long as the result is the same - I really don't give a shit." The Joker replies, pulling out a gun and placing it against the boy's temple which makes him tense.

Anger floods through Harley - the boy was hers to play with. She had seen him first. "Puddin!" She calls out sweetly, making both men turn towards her in shock. Happily skipping over, Harley shows him the loot. "We've got it all..."

"Great, toots." Mister J says excitedly, a mad grin spreading across his features as he shook the boy. "Let me just take care of this, then we'll go home..."

The boy lets out a groan of disbelief. "It's like Bellatrix and Snake-Face all over again...Only this seems to be consensual on both sides...weird..."

His comment earns him a sharp hit with the butt of the gun. The boy merely groans.

Harley giggles. "Puddin, do you have to kill him? He's funny..."

"He's a little shit." The Joker argues.

Harley doesn't back down. "Little shits tend to be the funniest of all."

The Joker seems to consider it for a moment, but then places the gun tighter against the boy's head. "Not if they have the hero's spirit..."

"This is officially not how I imagined my vacation -" The boy mutters, earning his head a harsh shove into the desk. "Fuck - I don't have brain-cells to spare!"

"I can break him." Harley whispers into the Joker's ear, hand resting gently on his shoulder. "We need more guys as ballsy as he is anyway - please Puddin..." Harley purrs, feeling the man shiver beneath his jacket. "I haven't a toy to play with in awhile. Please..."

There is a moment of pause, then the Joker lets out a groan. "You're killin' me, baby." To her joy, he removes the gun from the boy's head, but keeps a firm grasp on his throat. "He's your responsibility - keep him leashed until you know you've broken him. If you can't - either hand him over to me, or cut him loose."

"That's the plan, Puddin." Harley agrees, her blue eyes meeting the boy's green with excitement, loving the defiance gathering in them. "But I'm sure I'll get to him."

The Joker grins. "Good." With that he hit the boy over the head sharply with the gun, causing his green eyes to roll back before he slumped against the counter.

Harley has the feeling it's the beginning of something amazing.

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