A/N: So, I went back and edited chapter one for consistency. Please note that all of the Arcobaleno are physically eight at the moment, and Harry is also eight years old. So Tsuna is currently 22, Bel is 24, Fran is 20 (I assumed that he's 12 or so during the Rainbow Battles) and you can +8 to canon KHR ages if you want to know how old everyone else is.

On another note, sex is discussed very casually in this chapter. Just a warning for anyone who is sensitive about such.

Constructs

Arcobaleno Mammon looked around the office she had faded into with curiousity. She hadn't really broken into magical residents before (jobs that targeted magic-users were very few and far in-between, the last time she had needed to break in such a place being twenty-seven years ago) so she figured that she would enjoy the experience while she could.

The office of one Headmaster Dumbledore was a high-ceilinged, portrait-laden and book-scattered display that was supposed to imply age, experience, and wisdom. Enchanted paintings of past headmasters looked around the room uneasily, able to tell that something was wrong but unable to tell exactly what due to the Mist Flames cloaking the intruder. A lone Sun-flamed bird cooed in greeting at another being bursting with Flames near it- a phoenix, she figured. And then there was that table full of bizarre instruments that whirred and chimed and ticked - her current target.

Gliding over to the table (walking was troublesome, and she had floated for the many decades spent as a baby, so walking was still relatively foreign, even after these eight years) Mammon stared hard at all the different metal enchanted objects. Arcobaleno with magical abilities or not, she had relied on Flames for a majority of her life, barely ever finding it necessary to draw on magic. So here she was, in Dumbledore's office, trying to figure out exactly which little twirling curio needed to be tampered with.

Like any Mafioso with an excellent information network, Mammon knew about Voldemort. She knew of his reign, his demise, and of the child that had purportedly defeated him. Afterwards, she hadn't cared much, as with the power vacancy left by Voldemort, Magical Britain had gone soft.

But, she knew about Harry Potter.

Harry Potter, the boy her student (also Mukuro's student) and her "coworkers" wanted to adopt.

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived who was technically under the legal guardianship of Petunia and Vernon Dursley- said guardianship would be dissolved through the proper (Mafia) channels within a few days.

Harry Potter, who Wizarding Britain would fight to keep hold over, as he was their Savior figure, and Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore would throw a war for.

If the old codger were to find out about Harry Potter's new location, of Bel and Fran, of the Vongola, then things would get undoubtedly unpleasant. An underground war could break out.

War sucked in terms of profitability.

So, here Mammon was, in Dumbledore's office, trying to figure out how to make sure that Dumbledore wouldn't find out anything amiss until necessary.

Bel-senpai's hands were trembling.

It was faint, so faint that possibly only the Monkey-Boss and Baby Boss would really pick it up, but he was trembling nonetheless. Fran raised a green eyebrow at his lover, wondering when the stupid fake-prince would speak up.

He had to endure another full two minutes of Bel-senpai's awkward nervousness as they walked down the extravagant hallway of the residential wing, Harry trailing behind them with the back of Fran's jacket in a vice-grip. When two minutes were up, Fran tilted his head mockingly. "Hm~ Bel-senpai? Is something wrong?" Bel's fingers twitched for his throwing knives, and Fran continued, "Are you afraid of something, Bel-sen-"

"Shi- shut up." And there went three knives into the front of Fran's hat. The illusionist sighed at Harry's squeak of trepidation. "I'm not afraid of anything," Bel sneered, "You must be seeing things after hanging around that pineapple you call shishou so much."

Fran allowed the corner of his mouth to twitch up in mock imitation of a smile. "Me? Seeing things? Well, I guess that means that you're not as good-looking as I think."

That managed to get Bel to smile back, anxiety dropping from his shoulders. "Picking him up - it was on an impulse..." he began, "We're Varia, Fran. You really think we can take care of a kid?"

Fran raised an eyebrow at the usage of his name. Even though they had been in a serious(ly gay) relationship for the past few years, it was still "stupid frog" this or "damn kohai" that. "Fran" was reserved for dire situations (last of which had happened six months ago after one Storm had gotten a bullet lodged an inch next to his heart) or the bedroom. So, whatever was bothering Belphegor was quite serious then.

He turned around to glance at the child with a ragged mop of black hair and eyes as green as Lightning Flames that was looking back and forth between them, unable to understand their conversation. Looking back to Bel, he replied, "I know we're Varia, I'm not stupid, Bel-senpai. And since when do you question yourself? We can take care of him. So can the servants, and everyone else in the Famiglia. Except pineapple-shishou, have to make sure he never meets Harry."

Bel scoffed at the idea.

"Sure, we're assassins, we've killed people, but that doesn't make us unable to care a kid. Besides, if we mess up, I'm sure the Baby Boss will help us. So even if you don't believe we can take care of him, believe that the Famiglia will."

Shortly after these words left his mouth, Bel stopped walking, Fran and Harry pausing their footsteps as well. Running a hand through his bangs (a habit Fran knew only surfaced when Bel was truly anxious about something) Bel squatted down next to Harry, offering a hand and a slightly less-toothy-than-usual grin.

"I never really introduced myself, kid, so ignore whatever that Frog over thre has said about me," he began in lightly accented English.

"You know it's all true," Fran retorted in the same language.

Dismissing the interruption, "I'm Belphegor. And - sorry about knocking you out back then." Harry was looking at him with openmouthed curiousity, that had to be a good thing, right? "Well, I'm Belphegor, but you could also call me padre if you're willing to have me."

The waifish child (Belphegor couldn't quite remember why he had agreed to letting Fran pick up the kid, but then he recalled seeing a broken broken child, with glorious Flame potential that would be dreadfully wasted in an abusive home) smiled awkwardly, as if he wasn't used to smiling. "I'm Harry Potter. Thank you for... knocking me out and taking me from the Dursleys. And..." Harry hesitated, taking Bel's hand and hope entering his eyes, "I wouldn't mind calling you padre."

Bel found himself drawing the child into a hug, and couldn't bring himself to get mad at Fran's drawled, "See, Bel-senpai, you were nervous for no reason."

Sorely tempted to simply flip the entire table over, Mammon scowled deeply at the assembled magical knickknacks. They're all inscribed in Runes to power them and describe their function. And I can't read Runes, damnit- she mentally swore.

This was vexing. Thankfully, Dumbledore still hadn't come back into his office during the half hour she had hung around, but it was only a matter of time before he did come back. And though it was said that Flames could trump magic in a fight, Mammon really didn't feel like testing it out.

So, what to do?

Fiddling with the chains wrapped around her Pacifier - a stone one, imitation of her past burden, because she'd worn the damn thing for so many years it had been weird to not have - Mammon pursed her lips in contemplation. If she were to cast an illusion that everything on the table would stay in the same state as she saw it now, then there was a possibility that one of the things was meant to change with time, and if it didn't change, that would tip Dumbledore off. Breaking everything was also unfortunately out of the question.

Mammon closed her eyes, thinking hard, Mist Flames spreading across the room in preparation for whatever she decided on doing or for making a quick qetaway. The phoenix cawed in outrage at the feeling of Mist crawling everywhere, and the portraits became even more flustered.

An idea came to her, unbidden. Unexpected, but brilliant, and most importantly, Varia Quality.

The property of Mist Flames was said by most people as illusions, misting over a person's mind. But anyone who had a solid understanding of Flame theory had been told that Mist Flames were the opposite of the Storm's Destruction properties. Mist built, Mist created, Mist constructed.

So, if Mammon wished to deceive Dumbledore and anyone else that might check the office for monitoring Harry Potter, she'd just had to construct a lie with her Mist Flames.

Mist Flames sunk into the table, into all the instruments, all pieces of furniture in the office - except the Sun bird's perch, she wasn't cruel. She watched with satisfaction as her power drowned everything, ignored the portraits higher cries of alarm, did not notice how several slipped off to alarm the Headmaster that something was wrong, but they didn't know what.

"Anyone who is in this office will not see anything is wrong," she hissed, sibilant words that floated from her mouth and melded her will into the Flames, "To whoever sees and hears and can sense, nothing is wrong. None of the instruments are dead, or crying, or giving off signs of alarm. Nothing is amiss. Everything is fine."

With those last words, her Mist threaded throughout the room, constructing an elaborate lie. Her job done, Mammon allowed herself a satisfied nod before bursting into Flames and teleporting away.

As the gargoyle in front of Dumbledore's office screeched to the side and the Headmaster came whirling into the room, wand drawn and prepared to face unwelcome challenges, he relaxe upon seeing that nothing was wrong.

Reborn walked away from the Varia mansion with his hand on the edge of his fedora in contemplation, absorbing what he had learned so far.

Tsuna hadn't been yanking his chain after all. Somehow, Bel and Fran (of all people) had taken the boy - Harry Potter - in their care. The servants had seen the boy in snatches, one or two 'adorable' photos of Bel hugging his newly-adopted 'son' were already being smuggled through the Famiglia, and apparently both assassins had ordered a second bed be placed in their suite.

To be honest, Reborn wasn't sure how to react.

Over the years, crazy events were something that always inevitably traced back to his wayward student, Tsuna, so for such a situation to occur had completely blindsided Reborn. In no way had he ever expected the Vongola to come in contact with the Magical World, considering that the Mafia was very firmly non-magical and magical society in general had very little organized crime to speak of that could possibly make contact with the Mafia.

So for contact to happen in such a way - two top Varia assassins wanting to adopt the 'Savior' - had never been considered. Ever.

Reborn sighed, legs carrying him towards the main Vongola estate. "I'm not going to do anything about this," he decided aloud, muttering to himself. "The Varia can cover up the adoption, kidnapping, whatever, and if anything goes wrong... well, Tsuna is the Don of this crazy family. Not me."

But, seeing as Harry Potter was the same physical age as him, and would undoubtedly be inducted into the world of magic when he began maturing magically, a slow smile spread across Reborn's face. The sort of smile that would have Tsuna running for the hills if saw.

"Hmmm... maybe taking another student in the next few years won't be too bad."

The dinner table was conspicuously missing two key figures.

"Tch. I bet they're going at it like rabbits again," Squalo said, filling the awkward silence that had appeared once everyone had sat down and food had been served. Lussuria giggled and Xanxus rolled his eyes, downing a glass of wine in the same motion.

"How disgraceful," Levi muttered, lifting his fork and stabbing a broccoli before eating. "Skipping dinner to have sex - I would never do such a thing, Boss!" he exclaimed.

Xanxus just grunted and slammed his goblet down for more wine.

Diagonally from him, Mammon chewed a forkful of linguini melted with drunken goat cheese and parmesan with an undeniably smug air. "Don't worry, Squalo," she said dismissively, "they're just doing their parental duties."

"Parental duties?" the Rain choked. "Voi, Mammon, you might be eight years old, but you know how gay sex works. Those two won't be having children anytime soon."

Lussuria tittered gaily, sipping some oyster-based soup. "Isn't this lovely dinnertime conversation!" Squalo and Levi immediately fell silent, not wanting to lead Lussuria into elaborating on said dinnertime subject.

The Varia continued in silence for a little while, Squalo darting concerned looks to Bel and Fran's seats every now and then. Being one of the more sane Varia members, he actually was worried. Dinner was a sacred meal throughout the Vongola, especially after a mission, as showing up to dinner meant that you were present on the grounds and healthy enough to participate in the usual pre-serving brawl that would erupt. So not showing up was always a bad sign.

"Mu. Boss, your right-hand man is less of a shark and more like a mother hen with the way that he's looking right now," Mammon jibed, earning her several pieces of sharp cutlery tossed in her general direction.

"VOI, MAMMON-"

"Shut up, trash." Xanxus' wine goblet slammed back down into the table again. "And the two missing fools are taking care of a kid right now."

Lussuria nodded in confirmation as Levi and Squalo choked on their food. "They are~ sex between two men might not lead to children, Squalo dear," Squalo choked again, "but you see, they can adopt."

"THEY WHAT!?" Rain and Lightening boomed in mutual confusion.

Xanxus gnawed his way through his steak. "They came back from their last mission with a runt. Fran fucking insisted on something for once. I even tried to get Sawada to talk sense into him-" meaning that Xanxus hadn't felt like arguing, and just settled for having golden-tongued Decimo handle the situation instead, "- but that trash said that they could keep the kid."

The ensuing silence was deafening.

"He has Flame potential. So much that we could profit from him," Mammon murmured, cutting through the shocked atmosphere. "It would be a waste to put him on the streets. And if having the kid makes Bel and Fran happy, well you can go ahead and try telling them no when both Bosses said yes already."

More silence.

"As long as he doesn't become a liability," Squalo decided, going back to his food, Levi nodding in agreement.

The Varia's life was exciting, yes. But, as with anyone involved heavily in the Mafia, it was also dangerous, with fleeting happiness. It was sort of unspoken that if you were Mafia, and fellow Famiglia found a piece happiness, you help them keep their happiness unless it endangered others. So from that moment on, if anyone tried to mess with the newest addition to the Varia, they'd have seven enraged assassins after their life in a heartbeat.

And that's that.

Please don't expect rapid updates from this story. I'm still wading in unknown territory atm. This story isn't all fluff in happiness. It will seem that way at first, but KHR is Mafia and HP is wizarding society stricken with terrorists. So. What I mean to say is that yes, this story has a plot.

In others news, since I know that people will be curious about Harry and Hogwarts, yes, he will be going. Others from the Vongola will be as well, so feel free to guess who, though I'm pretty sure I've dropped enough hints.

Harry will be learning to use Mist Flames, yes. Eventually.

I have some vague scenes plotted out, but I would love for some suggestions for scenes involving adopted Harry and the Vongola/Varia crew. I hope to have five-six chapters concerning Harry's pre-Hogwarts years before I dive into the main HP storyline, so suggestions are welcome.

Reviews are also highly appreciated.