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Chapter Text

“Boy!” Harry flinched and closed his eyes. Dust and bits of plaster rained from the cupboard ceiling with each stomping footstep of Vernon Dursley. Harry sat up carefully, the cupboard felt a little smaller after a few weeks in Dudley’s second bedroom, he didn’t want to hurt himself.

Harry fiddled with the hem of his right glove but quickly dropped his hands to his lap. Uncle Vernon didn’t like Harry’s hands.

The door to Harry’s cupboard was flung outward and a gruff voice barked at him to get out. Harry crawled out quickly and bit back a hiss when he smacked his knee on his trunk on the way out. Hedwig had been staying with Ron since Hogwarts ended, Harry didn’t think it was safe for his beautiful owl to be near him at the moment.

“You better be wearing your gloves,” Uncle Vernon snarled. Harry muttered a yes sir, which the man ignored. “Your poor aunt and I won’t have it here! It’s bad enough we have … your kind, but we will not have a villain as well!”

Harry jerked his head down to hide his burning eyes. Villain. That was all he had heard since he had come home from Hogwarts and Harry wasn’t sure if that was better or worse what they had been calling him before, quirkless freak.

Harry just couldn’t win.

“Go, move your things back to Dudley’s second bedroom,” Vernon demanded. “Not your freaky school things, no, that will stay here where I can keep it locked away.”

“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry muttered. The only reason he was moving back to the room where Dudley’s toys went to die was that as Harry had recently learned they would soon be having company.

While Harry had been away at school a man had reached out to Aunt Petunia claiming to be her brother. Harry wasn’t privy to all the details but from what he managed to piece together by listening as covertly as possible, Harry’s grandfather had once been stationed in Japan during his time in His Majesty's Armed Forces. That resulted in a brother for Harry’s mother Lily and Aunt Petunia whom no one had ever known about.

Harry quickly turned back around and grabbed his threadbare blanket and thin pillow. He didn’t bother trying to get anything from his trunk, Harry hadn’t wanted to risk holding any of his precious possessions since his quirk had come in. Harry would never forgive himself if he accidentally destroyed his father’s prized invisibility cloak or his wand.

Moving his possession only took a moment and the second he was finished Uncle Vernon banished him to his Aunt’s side for chores. It was still early and Harry could hear Dudley stuffing his face in the kitchen while Saturday morning cartoons played loudly. Aunt Petunia wrinkled her nose at Harry when she saw him coming, Harry hunched his shoulders self-consciously and tried to stay out of arms reach, she loved cuffing him for his posture.

“The front garden needs tended,” Petunia said sternly. She was dressed in her best pre-guest outfit. “Be done before 11, we don’t want Mrs. Anderson down in number 7 being nosy. After the garden tidy up the guest room and Dudley’s room.”

Harry bit back his irritation at being forced to work all morning when he knew Dudley wouldn’t do anything but sit in front of the telly.

“Boy,” Petunia said, whispering angrily.

Harry winced and struggled not to cover his ears. Aunt Petunia’s quirk was simply named “Shouted Whisper”. Shouted Whisper allowed Petunia to project a whisper at much louder volumes to a single target. Mostly she used it to yell at Harry without the neighbor hearing it. Thankfully she stopped after the first word. “My brother will be here this afternoon. You will sit quietly in Dudley’s second bedroom and not make a single peep until dinner. Do you understand?”

Harry flinched again when her quirk activated on the last question.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said earnestly.

“If he hadn’t already known about you, I would have shipped you off with Ms. Figg for the weekend,” Petunia continued hatefully. Harry ignored the thought that he might not have gotten to meet his uncle, the only other family he had. “My brother is a pro-hero in Japan.”

Aunt Petunia’s face did a complicated thing, and Harry knew it was her disgust of anything foreign to Britain and her entitled sense of self and pride in having a pro-hero relative clashing.

“So, not a toe out of line, boy,” she hissed hatefully. “I’m sure a hero would have no problem dealing with a villain like you.”

Harry froze and he only faintly recognized Aunt Petunia’s smug face at the horror on her nephew’s face. Harry’s head buzzed loudly and he didn’t hear Aunt Petunia’s command for him to get to work on the front garden but the harsh slap across the face got him moving.

A villain like him, Harry kept repeating the phrase in his head as he began tidying the front lawn and garden. Was he a villain? Harry trembled as he tried to ignore the memory of Quirrell grabbing for him and Harry grabbing back. Harry shook his head to try and clear his mind, his hands itched inside his gloves.

The thick black gloves chafed uncomfortably and made his hands sweat something awful but even if Harry had wanted to remove the gloves, it was beyond impossible. Child-proof quirk restraints often required a key or pin code, and Harry’s gloves needed a small key that Aunt Petunia kept on a chain around her neck.

The gloves hadn’t come off since Harry returned from Hogwarts a few days ago. They were meant to be worn, washed, and used like they were Harry’s own hands. Except, they were a little small, designed for children aged 6-8 who hadn’t finished quirk counseling yet.

Only the soft and skin-tight gloves Madam Pomfrey had given him after he had woken up in the Hospital Wing, which he still wore under the quirk restraint gloves gave him any relief. His hands still hurt terribly at all times and Harry wished he could just scream.

Scream like Professor Quirrell did when Harry touched him. Screaming as he was turned to ash. Ash. That was what the doctor at the Quirk center called his Quirk, Ash. Anything Harry touched with all five fingers would turn to ash.

“Boy!”

Harry flinched and ducked his head. Aunt Petunia had used her quirk to shout at him again.

“Get back to work!”

Harry chanced a quick look and saw his Aunt watching him angrily from the nearest window and he quickly returned to checking the flower bed for weeds. He tried to ignore the ringing in his ears and the aching in his hands. He just needed to get his chores done and then he could hide in Dudley’s second bedroom for a while. He just had to keep going.

“Shou! Shou! Are you ready?” Hizashi shouted happily. The windows of the hotel room rattled ominously with their shout.

“Quirk, Zashi!” Shouta said sternly from the hotel bathroom.

Hizashi grinned and shook their head. “Sorry! I’m just so excited!”

Hizashi’s husband, Aizawa Shouta exited the bathroom in just enough time to cancel Hizashi’s use of their quirk on the word ‘excited’. His hair was pulled back loosely and would likely not stay that way long. He was dressed well, but that did little to hide the exhaustion on his face.

“If you deafen the hotel we will have to miss this meeting to sign paperwork and talk to a lawyer,” Shouta said dryly. “Be rational for once.”

Hizashi grinned widely and swooped in for a quick kiss. “No way! Rational is more your jam! I’m an action kind of person.”

“Trust me, I am aware,” Shouta said. Out of the bathroom, the hero made his way to the bed and reached for his capture scarf.

“Oh no, Aizawa Shouta, you are not bringing your capture scarf to meet my sister and her family!” Hizashi said, pointing a finger at their husband. “And if I see even a hint of your sleeping bag I’ll scream!

Aizawa ignored his overly loud spouse and wrapped the scarf around his neck over the collar of his dress shirt. “Two weekends of your grading,” Shouta bargained without hesitating and grinned sharply when he saw Hizashi pause.

“Two weekends and I get to choose our couples costume for the Hand’s Up Radio cosplay party,” the blond pro hero shot back playfully.

“Deal,” Shouta agreed easily with the same sharp smile.

Hizashi laughed loudly, a quick flash of red eyes and some floating hair kept the laugh from getting too loud and the pair set out. They had found a decent bus route that would get them near enough to little Whinging and then back to the hotel with few problems. Thankfully both pro heroes were fluent in English and were easily able to navigate public transportation.

The bus ride wasn’t long and with a cheerful goodbye, Hizashi led Shouta off the bus and took a moment to examine the neighborhood where Petunia Dursley was raising her family.

“Wow it’s …”

“I hate it.”

“It’s creepy,” Hizashi admitted reluctantly. “It feels like the start of a horror-style k-drama! How does anyone find anything here?”

Shouta rolled his eyes and pointed at the crisp and clear numbers visible on the houses. “They come with numbers.”

It didn’t take long to find Number 4, Hizashi noticed the immaculate garden and wondered if their brother-in-law had a plant-based quirk. Hizashi knew from medical records that his voice quirk was hereditary so Petunia likely had a similar voice-related quirk and her son had a chance of one as well. Harry Potter, the son of Hizashi’s deceased sister Lily, was recorded as quirkless like Lily had been, poor kid.

“I’m nervous,” Hizashi admitted to their husband. “We’ve spoken on the phone but this is different.”

“We can always leave if it’s too much,” Shouta reminded them. “If they turn out to be quirkist assholes or homophobic racists we can just leave. Blood family is nice when they love you but you know you don’t need them.”

Hizashi laughed softly and brushed some of his long blonde hair out of his eyes. “Always dropping wisdom,” They teased. “It’s almost like I married an old man or something!”

Shouta’s deadpan expression had Hizashi giggling as they knocked at the door and politely if not impatiently waited for someone to answer the door.

Chapter Text

Harry could feel his heartbeat through the burns on his hands. Tears of pain and frustration leaked through his closed eyelids and the elven-year-old did his best not to sob into his thin dirty pillow. After he finished the garden and tidied up the rooms like Aunt Petunia asked Harry ducked into the kitchen to ask for any final chores before he was banished to Dudley’s second bedroom.

“Come here,” Petunia whisper-shouted at him. Harry ignored the ringing in his ears and the loud gurgle of hunger his stomach made as he got closer to the stove where dinner was cooking. Harry hadn’t been given lunch and breakfast had been several hours ago.

“Give me your hands,” Petunia demanded. Harry watched confused as his Aunt removed the quirk restraints and sneered at him. “Take those gloves off. If you even think about using your evil quirk I’ll call the heroes and they will cart you off to prison forever! Do you understand?”

Harry nodded and carefully pulled the last layer of protection off of his hands and he carefully curled his fingers in his palms. Harry’s quirk didn’t seem to work on his skin so he was safe from Ashing himself. He found himself lost in thought as he stared at his hands. He hadn’t seen them in weeks because he hadn’t taken his gloves off since he had been given them. The cool air made his hands itch and all Harry wanted to do was put his gloves back on.

The loud hiss of the stove top burner broke Harry out of his thoughts. “Burn your hands,” Petunia demanded.

“What?” Harry almost shouted. He tried to take a step back but Aunt Petunia quickly smacked him around the head.

“Burn your hands,” She hissed. “I won’t have my brother asking questions about your freakish quirk, so we’ll burn your hands and wrap them in bandages. Say you got in an accident at school.”

“No!” Harry denied it with fear and anger clear in his voice. “I won’t say anything, I’ll wear the gloves or bandages or whatever you want!”

Aunt Petunia ignored him and reached for Harry’s wrist but the boy pulled back and his hands opened up in fright. Aunt Petunia jerked back in fright of Harry’s quirk and whisper-screamed loud enough that Harry stumbled from the force of it. Uncle Vernon’s lumbered footsteps hurried into the kitchen and Harry found himself without a choice, something that Aunt Petunia’s nasty smirk said she knew as well.

Uncle Vernon’s quirk was aptly named “Bully” the large man could goad others into a single quick physical action as long as he shouted the command. So when he goaded Harry to touch the stove Harry tried his best not to scream while his hands burned.

That had been almost two hours ago and Harry’s hands had been doctored and bandaged. Harry knew that after his new uncle left he likely wouldn’t get a second round of bandages so he hoped he managed to keep them clean for a while.

Harry wondered how the meeting was going. He knew his uncle and someone Harry could only assume was his husband had arrived an hour ago. Harry has seen them walk up the drive. Harry had expected a lot of shouting when he saw the dark-haired man holding his uncle’s hand. It had been hard to see anything about his new uncle but from what Harry could see the man had long blond hair and wore glasses.

It was probably the man’s status as a pro-hero that kept Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia from starting a huge row. Uncle Vernon despised what he called good-for-nothing queers and Aunt Petunia often complained about men with long hair so his new Uncle likely caused a bit of a stir.
Harry desperately wanted to meet his uncle. The lonely boy locked in the cupboard who wanted nothing more than love hoped that this uncle would like him a bit more than Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia didn’t think his new uncle would like him. She hadn’t even told him his name.

Harry lay on the cot that served as the bed in Dudley’s second bedroom, his hands hurt too much to try and read one of the torn books strewn about and he was too hungry to focus on anything.

All he could do at this point was sit quietly and pretend he didn’t exist.

Aizawa Shouta wanted to punch his brother-in-law. In fact, Shouta was going to punch his brother-in-law if he didn’t stop looking at Hizashi like they were the scum of the Earth.

“Dinner will be ready in just a moment,” Petunia said with fake cheer in her voice. Shouta could practically taste her lies. It was only Hizashi’s insistence that they stay and meet Harry that kept the couple in the Dursley home longer than a few minutes. Shouta was also interested in meeting Harry. He was registered as quirkless, as Lily had been, but Petunia had explained that Harry was simply a late bloomer. And in fact, he was sleeping off an injury he had received acted his quirk activated unexpectedly during a fight with another student.

Petunia had gone well out of her way to tell Shouta and Hizashi all about the school Harry attended, St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys. “A first-rate institution for hopeless cases,” Petunia had called it. She showed them brochures that boasted the institution routinely made use of corporal punishment, something that Japan had long since outlawed in schools. It claimed to have constant access to quirk counselors and support items for dealing with villainous children. The entire thing made the pair of them sick to think about. Only the knowledge that Harry had never actually attended the school made it possible for Shouta to sit and listen.

Hizashi’s smile froze and sharpened with every lie their sister told about their nephew. Being pro-heroes Hizashi and Shouta were both aware of the wizarding world and a quick conversation with Nezu had quickly filled in the blanks of just who Lily Evans was. Lily was a witch, Lily had gone to Hogwarts, Lily had gotten married, and had her son young, and then Lily died. That was all Hizashi and Shouta knew about her, Nezu had still been compiling information on the wizarding world and the politics of wizarding Britain when they left.

So, Petunia didn’t know that she had pushed her sibling away with each lie and it was only the possibility of salvaging some kind of relationship with their nephew that Hizashi stayed. Something about Harry’s situation made the back of Shouta’s neck itch, in the same way, a stakeout about to go poorly did. Maybe it was the lack of pictures of Harry that started it. Shouta noted right away that the only child seen in the numerous photographs of the home was Dudley Dursley.

It could have been the snide comment about Harry having been quirkless until just a few days ago that Dudley made when Petunia half-assed explained Harry’s injury. Both pros had noticed that no one mentioned what Harry’s quirk was, and Shouta fought back a comment when Petunia muttered something about the boy becoming a villain in the future. It was only Hizashi’s deafness that stopped a fight from erupting.

The longer the meeting went on without Shouta or Hizashi meeting Harry the more alarms went off in Shouta’s mind. He was sure that his spouse had the same alarms. Shouta couldn’t be sure without seeing the kid or seeing his interaction with Petunia or Vernon but Shouta would bet his hero license that their nephew was being at least neglected by this family.

It was only logical, the disdain and hatred made it clear that Harry Potter was not welcome in this house. Even Dudley didn’t like his cousin. Shouta allowed a brief moment of pity for the child before disgust at his personality overtook everything else. Dudley was a bully and it didn’t take any great leap of logic for Shouta to realize that. Shouta wasn’t one to stereotype based on someone’s quirk but he was sure there was something poetic about a bully having the quirk “Taunt”.

Taunt was a mixture of Dudley’s parents' quirks. His quirk allowed him to project his voice loudly to others like his mother but Dudley’s voice also had the effect of causing irritation and anger in others.

“Dudders darling, go wake your cousin would you please?” Petunia asked her son sweetly.

Shouta shot up from his seat when he saw Dudley’s face screw up like an angry toddler. He and Hizashi had discussed this already. The moment they had a chance to see Harry they were to take it. It was easy enough to discuss things in JSL without the Dursleys knowing. The family was remarkably dull and unobservant.

“I’ll do it,” Shouta cut in. He didn’t let Petunia cut him off and instead took quick steps toward the stairs. The little bit of the house he had seen thus far made it obvious the bedrooms were upstairs so he didn’t need a guide. Behind him Shouta ignored Hizashi talking loud enough to distract their sister and brother-in-law.

He made quick work of the stairs, he paused ever so slightly when he hit a squeaky step. He made a mental note to avoid it on the way back. The top floor was brightly lit and covered in cheesy fading floral motifs. Shouta reasoned that Petunia decorated once when they moved in and did nothing to freshen up the home after that. He shook his head ruefully, that thought was all Hizashi and Nemuri, if Hizashi hadn’t insisted on decorating their home Shotua was sure his walls would be bare and he’d be living out of boxes. It worked so Shouta didn’t quite see the point.

Thoughts of interior decorating aside, Shouta’s eyes were immediately drawn to the shabby door with all the locks. Anger, something that had been boiling in his chest since he and his spouse entered the home, began to well up in his chest.

As an underground hero and a teacher, Eraserhead rescued more children than other heroes. Often the children tended to be his students but more than once Eraserhead stepped in to protect a child from those who were supposed to protect them. It was with this familiarity that Shouta crossed the distance between himself and the locked door.

The locks were simple, Shouta didn’t even need to pull out his lock pick kit, all it took was the turning of a few knobs and removing a security chain. He paused and knocked on the door, Shouta tilted his head to listen at the door. Faintly he could hear movement and then a sharp inhale and a muffled pained sound.

Eraserhead didn’t wait. The hero moved swiftly and pulled the door open. The room was mostly bare with broken toys and electronics littering the floor. Immediately Eraserhead turned his attention to the child on the cot, they could only be Harry Potter. The boy looked sick, his hair was plastered down to his head and Eraserhead could see a line of sweat across his browline.

“Who are you?” Harry asked. His voice was heavy with what sounded like sleep or tears.

Eraserhead didn’t answer right away, his eyes went immediately to the bandages that covered the kid’s hands. They were fresh which was a comfort, but the kid was obviously in serious pain.

“Where does your aunt keep your pain medication,” Eraserhead asked. He knew his straight-to-the-point question had thrown Harry as he just stumbled through a denial of having any pain medication. The deep rage that had been slowly building in his chest burned even brighter at the denial. They didn’t even give him pain medicine.

The boy trailed off and bright green eyes that looked so much like Hizashi’s met Shouta’s own dark eyes. It was like the worst kind of mirror, seeing the same helpless look in the eyes of a child that you saw in the mirror every day. It was only through sheer force of will Eraserhead managed to push his incandescent rage down deep enough that the flames of his anger didn’t flicker in his eyes. He knew at that moment that they were never going to leave Harry here with Petunia.

“Get your things together as best you can, don’t injure yourself further,” Shouta demanded. “I’m your uncle by marriage and a pro hero. I don’t know exactly what is going on in this house but I’ve seen more than enough. You aren’t staying here.”

Chapter Text

Hizashi could talk about anything. Oboro had once joked that since Hizashi couldn’t hear what they were saying, it didn’t matter what they talked about. Shouta had even echoed the sentiment before in some form or fashion. So when their husband took the only opportunity they had seen to check on Harry, he had sprinted toward it. Hizashi took the opportunity to babble away, chatting about their radio station, only letting Petunia speak a word or two before Hizashi mowed her over. They didn’t let anyone object to Shouta going after the kid.

“Oh, it’s no problem for Shou at all,” Hizashi rambled the moment they saw Petunia’s face crumble. “We deal with grumpy teenagers every day! Shouta can handle a sleepy little listener!”

Petunia didn’t look convinced, and Hizashi ignored but did notice the look their sister shared with her husband. Something stunk in Number Four, and Hizashi was going to scream if it was what they thought it was.

As they continued to babble, Dudley’s dull stare would flicker up to Hizashi every so often, but he was mostly focused on his food. Vernon had a perpetual scowl and red tint to his face since Hizashi had stepped into the house openly queer and unwilling to hide it. Hizashi unflinchingly corrected Petunia on their pronouns and refused to let Vernon emasculate Shouta. With a sharp PR smile and fast-talking, neither Dursley had the chance even to speak a hateful word unless Hizashi wanted them to.

“About the boy,” Vernon began.

“Harry!” Hizashi piped up.

“Yes, Harry,” Vernon agreed reluctantly. Someone would think that Hizashi had just insisted the man eat broken glass rather than simply correcting the use of their shared nephew's name. “The boy’s…disturbed. Not been quite right since the accident.”

Hizashi’s smile turned glacial at the lies that poured out of Vernon. The man tried to spin a tale of a disturbed little boy who developed an extremely dangerous quirk. There was no mention of magic or even what had happened to trigger Harry’s quirk manifestation. Hizashi needed to know more.

Shouta was better at interrogation than Hizashi was; it was a known fact. Limelight heroes didn’t have much use for interrogation skills outside of interviewing witnesses or asking villains a few questions here or there. Underground heroes were a little different, as they would work with local police departments and interrogate suspects when needed. Shouta was also known to conduct street-side interrogations if time was an issue. But none of that meant that Hizashi couldn’t do it. They were charismatic, Hizashi knew, and they weren’t afraid to use it either. Charisma combined with Hizashi’s not-so-inconsiderable intellect, the pro heroes led the conversation where they had wanted it to, and nothing painted a picture that Hizashi liked.

It was obvious that Hizashi’s gold-digger sister was only after clout that came from being related to an internationally known pro hero. It was even more obvious that Petunia hated Lily and likely hated Harry too. Part of Hizashi ached at the loss of their sister, not Lily; Hizashi had mourned her when they learned her name. No, Hizashi mourned Petunia and any kind of relationship they could have had together.

That mourning melted away in an instant when Eraserhead appeared in the doorway of the dining room and said, “We need to leave.”

Present Mic jumped up without any hesitation. “What’s the sitch?”

“Harry needs to see a doctor right away. His hands are badly burned, and he might be hiding more injuries,” Eraserhead reported simply. “I’ll also be reporting to the local hero agency and suggest a proper police investigation into just what has gone on here.”

Finally, the Dursleys could no longer be contained. “Now see here, you no good -” Vernon began, but Hizashi didn’t let him get far.

“Hey!” Hizashi shouted. The knock-off china that Petunia had broken out in an attempt to impress Hizashi rattled hard on the table. Hizashi knew Vernon and Petunia both had voice-related quirks, and they had no desire to be put under the influence of one of them. Eraserhead could only disable one at a time, Present Mic could shut down the entire neighborhood with the correct pitch.

“Woah, you are Present Mic!” A young hushed said with all the awe that only a child meeting their hero can generate.

Present Mic whirled around with all their usual flair, even if they weren’t in their normal hero costume. Harry, because it could only be Harry, was thin and all bruised up. His clothing was far too large, and his hair stuck to his forehead in a few places, but not enough to cover the livid and branching scar that covered the boy’s face. Hizashi could see that it started on the kid’s forehead near his hairline and slowly crept down his face until the fractured ends of the scar sat resting just above his cheekbones.

“Hey, little listener, nice to meet you!” Mic greeted cheerfully. The Voice Hero did their best not to react to the thick bandaging that they could see covering the kid’s hands. “Ouch, looks like your hands hurt. But don’t worry, kiddo, we’ll get you taken care of!”

Harry had never seen a hero in real life before. Everyone saw the heroes on the telly, and Dudley had seen several heroes on various field trips that Harry had never been allowed to attend. There was even one time Aunt Petunia and Dudley had been in the area when a villain attacked the good Tesco's, Harry had just barely heard the news coverage over Dudley’s loud and exaggerated retelling of the fight. Aunt Petunia had been quite cross, but Dudley had crowed about seeing Captain Britain in person for months.

Harry had been properly jealous for ages, but some childish part of him that he had hoped he had outgrown cheered now. He was related to two pro heroes; he ignored the fact that Dudley was too. That part wasn’t that important.

“Harry,” the pro hero in Dudley’s second bedroom called gently. Harry blinked at his new uncle slowly; he hadn't meant to get lost in thought. “Can you stand up?”

Harry struggled to understand what he was being told. The last vestiges of troubled sleep and pain clawed at Harry’s eyes, and the world swam for a moment, making listening difficult. It took a moment, but Harry managed to stumble to his feet. The pro stepped with him to help keep Harry steady. Instead of hands the strange long scarf that wrapped gently around Harry’s arm to help him keep his balance. Wicked, Harry thought as he stared at the material.

“What’s your name?” Harry asked as he finally managed to tear his eyes away from the weird scarf. A slight slur of exhaustion made the words run together, but the man didn’t appear to have any problems understanding Harry.

“I’m Aizawa Shouta, pro hero Eraserhead,” the man answered. His voice sounded somewhat bored and blank. Harry hoped he hadn’t irritated the man. He hated being a bother. “And you must be Harry. Hizashi and I have been looking forward to meeting you.”

Oh, something warm flickered in Harry’s heart. No one had ever wanted to meet him before, at least no one in connection with the Dursleys. Even before his quirk had manifested, no one had wanted to play with the dirty quirkless boy, no one had ever wanted to meet him before. “Er, nice to meet you,” Harry tried to say politely.

“There will be time for introductions later,” Eraserhead said firmly. Harry bit back an apology and gasped in pain when he accidentally stretched his hands, pulling the tender, burned skin.

Harry watched the hero’s gray eyes flicker from Harry’s hand to the surroundings, and Harry would have sworn he saw a flicker of rage in the man’s eyes. It was gone before Harry could be sure. “Change of plans, go downstairs and wait with Hizashi, I’ll get your belongings.”

Harry tried to interject, his new hero uncle didn’t need to do that, Harry was fine. The man managed to stop the eleven-year-old's complaints with a single look. The boy felt himself straighten up automatically. For a moment, it was like he had come into Professor McGonagall’s class late again.

“Hey,” Harry blinked, confused at Eraserhead. “You with me, kid?”

“Sorry,” Harry rasped. “Didn’t hear you.”

“That’s fine,” Eraserhead said easily with a calm that Harry wished he could emulate. “Head downstairs and I’ll pack your things. Do you have a suitcase?”

“In my cupboard,” Harry muttered softly. “My trunk is in the cupboard under the stairs.”

“In your cupboard under the stairs,” the pro hero parroted slowly. Something about how he said it set off Harry’s instincts, but everything hurt, and Harry just wanted to go back to sleep.

Uncle Eraserhead had to help Harry down the stairs. His hands hurt too badly to hold the railing, and the man was worried that Harry would fall. He let himself be shuffled toward the front door. The narrow hallway that held the stairs and the cupboard loomed in Harry’s vision. Eraserhead disappeared from Harry’s side, and he moved to stand in the doorway of the dining room. Harry could hear voices, loud, familiar voices. It wasn’t until a shouted “hey” shook the room that Harry realized just who stood in Aunt Petunia’s dining room.

He shuffled forward and carefully peeked around the bulk of Uncle Eraserhead. “Whoa, you are Present Mic!” Harry said excitedly.

Harry watched the blond person he had only caught a glimpse of from the window turn to face him, and a smile stretched across his face. It was Present Mic.

Not many people in Harry’s life knew just who his favorite hero was. Dudley had made it clear from a young age that Harry wasn’t welcome in their games of hero unless it was to be the villain that was soundly beaten in the end, often literally. So when everyone else was shouting off their favorite hero, Harry kept the name to himself. Dudley liked the cool flashy heroes like Captain Britain or All Might, but Harry’s favorite hero had always been Present Mic.

The Japanese hero had been on a talk show once, one of the ones Aunt Petunia loved to watch. Harry had been cleaning a mess Dudley left in front of the telly, and a small boy had watched a Present Mic greet the world. They, as Harry learned their pronouns were, were loud and proud and everything Harry ever wanted to be. He followed the pro's career as best he could before being pulled into the wizarding mess, and now, finding his hero standing in his house, Harry could only stare.

“Hey, little listener, nice to meet you!” Mic greeted cheerfully. Harry tried not to fanboy. Present Mic called Harry a little listener! “Ouch, looks like your hands hurt. But don’t worry, kiddo, we’ll get you taken care of!”

“Okay,” Harry muttered. Present Mic offered a blinding grin that made Harry smile back as much as he could.

“What do you think you’re doing!” Vernon demanded. Harry instinctively ducked his head and hunched his shoulders. “That boy isn’t going anywhere, but you freaks will get the hell out of my home!”

Harry watched Present Mic jerk and take a step toward the front door and knew that Uncle Vernon had used his quirk on the pro hero. Faster than Harry could follow in his confused state, Uncle Eraserhead was suddenly there in front of Uncle Vernon. Long black hair pulled itself free from its loose tail and floated high into the air, and then Present Mic was free.

Eraserhead, Harry thought, did his name mean he could erase quirks?

“You are going to jail,” Eraserhead said with a growl in his voice. “That was unwanted quirk use on a pro hero; it will go perfectly with your child abuse charges.”

“Child abuse! We never!” Aunt Petunia shrieked, thankfully not using her quirk. “We took him in out of the kindness of our hearts and gave him food out of our mouths and the clothing off our backs!”

“If what goes on here is kindness, then I’d hate to see you interact with cruelty,” Eraserhead retorted. “Mic, why don’t you take Harry back to the hotel? I’ll call the locals.”

“Sounds good, Eraser,” Present Mic agreed. “I’ll check him over there, and if we need to make a hospital visit, the locals can meet us there; otherwise, I’ll come by in the morning.”

“He won’t be going!” Uncle Vernon roared. The same burst of bravery that resulted in him standing up to Hagrid all those months ago gave Vernon the gall to step forward like he was going to hit Eraserhead the same way he always hit Harry. Harry wanted to call out, to warn his new pro-hero uncle who had been so nice to him, but Harry was too slow. Thankfully, you, Eraserhead, were fast enough to save yourself. The strange scarf that the man had used to help keep Harry steady quickly had Vernon contained.

A quick wrap around the man’s mouth stopped any further quirk use, and Harry could see Uncle Vernon’s hands were bound together as well.
“I don’t have any capture tape on me, so my capture weapon will have to do for now,” Eraserhead said, almost bored. He turned to face Petunia, his hair still raised. “Don’t bother trying anything; resisting arrest will only make this more difficult for yourself.”

“Wicked,” Harry whispered. The Dursleys had long been the most obvious villains in Harry’s life, and seeing them taken down by a hero… Harry knew at that moment that Present Mic now had to share their favorite hero title with Uncle Eraserhead.

“Yeah, Shouta is a kickass hero,” Harry jumped, and green eyes met green eyes for the first time. A warm smile crossed their face, and Harry felt a lump in his throat form. Present Mic looked like Harry’s mum; Harry could see it in their smile and their eyes. The photographs that he had stared at until his eyes went cross were almost overlaid on the hero's face. Harry could see the resemblance that he had never found in Aunt Petunia.

“Are you ready to go?” Present Mic asked softly. Harry’s eyes dropped to their lips andhe mouthed the words to himself before speaking.

“Where are we going?” Harry whispered back.

“I’m taking you home, kiddo,” they promised.

Chapter Text

Harry’s hands itched but it wasn’t easy to scratch them. The gauze that covered his hands was thick and Harry’s burnt uncoordinated fingers couldn't manage to do anything about the unbearable itch. Harry carefully rubbed his hands, palms down, on the stiff material of his trousers. He bit back a hiss of pain and closed his eyes tightly behind his glasses.

“Woah, listener!” A warm voice broke through Harry’s pained thoughts. “What’s wrong, did you hit your hands?”

Harry managed to pry his eyes open when warm fingers gently circled Harry’s wrists and guided his battered hands up and out of his lap.

“They itch,” Harry muttered. Present Mic clucked sadly and stepped away again to continue puttering around the hotel room.

“How’s your throat feel, any itchiness there or shortness of breath?” Hizashi asked. Harry saw their eyes trail over his face carefully from behind their glasses. Thankfully Hizashi’s eyes didn’t linger on the large branching scar that defined Harry's life as so many people did but instead seemed to be actually looking for something.

Before they had crowded into the taxi with Harry’s trunk in the boot Present Mic (“Call me Hizashi!” Present Mic had said cheerfully when Harry had stumbled through an introduction.) had offered Harry a mild pain relief pill and had been monitoring Harry for an allergic reaction ever since. The lessening of pain and the dizzying hunger made the taxi ride hard for Harry to remember. But Hizashi got Harry where he needed to go.

“No, I’m fine,” Harry said.

Hizashi hummed thoughtfully. “Well it’s time to take a look at them anyway, I finally figured out where Shouta stashed the first aid kit,” Hizashi said. They hoisted up a large bag that was shaped like a grumpy gray cat and set it down on the bed where Hizashi had deposited Harry the moment they entered the hotel room.

The tall blond hero grabbed one of the chairs that came with the room and pulled it so they were sitting in front of Harry. The cat-shaped first-aid kit was set out on the bed next to Harry, all the important bits in easy reach. Harry watched as Hizashi took a pair of medical scissors in hand and gestured to Harry. “Can I take a look?”

Harry’s eyes dropped to his injured hands and then back to his hero. Harry shook his head back and forth so hard his glasses slid halfway off his face. “NO!” Harry shouted. “I’ll hurt you.”

With clumsy hands, Harry took a second to right his glasses and turned scared watery eyes to the only blood family who had ever even tried to help him. Harry gasped when he saw something flash across the hero's face. Harry couldn’t name the emotion but it hadn’t looked like a good one.

“I’m sorry, I won’t touch you I promise! Don’t send me back please!” Harry pleaded. “I know I’m bad but I won’t touch you I swear!”

Harry sniffed hard and hugged himself as best he could with just his arms. He found himself babbling, words and promises poured out of his mouth, anything Hizashi would have wanted Harry would have given them at that moment. Instead, Harry felt warm hands and strong arms wrap around him. Harry felt himself get tugged forward gently until his forehead rested against a strong chest that vibrated with words that he couldn’t hear.

Musicians' fingers trailed through Harry’s hair. Well-kept nails covered in bright yellow nail polish with lilies decorating them gently stretched over Harry’s scalp helping him calm down. Was this what a hug from an adult felt like, Harry wondered. Hermione had hugged him once before she returned to her family for the summer but never before had Harry been hugged like this. Like he was safe.

“My quirk is dangerous too,” Hizashi said, pulling Harry out of his own head with a few words. “Hell kid, I came out screaming and hurt everyone born on the same floor. So I know a lot about dangerous quirks. Maybe I can help.”

Harry bit his lip and buried his face deeper into Hizashi’s chest.

“Do you know how your quirk works?” Hizshi asked softly.

“Whatever I touch with all my fingers gets burned up,” Harry said into Hizashi’s chest. “Everything turns to ash and can’t stop it.”

Harry felt himself sway back and forth with Hizashi rocking them as the pro seemed to be lost in thought. It was soothing and the gentle petting of his hair hadn’t stopped either. No one had ever touched Harry for so long. The brief pats and pushes he had gotten from the other Gryffindor boys hadn’t been much but Harry had treasured each one. The one hug he had gotten from Hermione was something that Harry had tried to hold onto, but even Hermione had been forced away from him before he had been ready. This was nice, just getting to enjoy his hug.

“Okay that’s not too bad,” Harry more felt than heard Hizashi say. “That kind of limitation is pretty common and Shouta and I have both helped students with similar quirks.”

“Really?” Harry asked finally pulling away to look his mother’s sibling in the face to see if they would lie to him.

“Really,” Present Mic promised with a smile. “I’ll be extra careful, but I really want to check your hands okay? If you are really worried about it, we can wait for Shouta and have him erase your quirk while I check you out. Do you want to wait?”

“You swear you’ll be careful?” Harry whispered. “You swear you won’t let me hurt you?”

With an earnest smile with all the warmth of the sun focused directly on Harry, all he could do was nod his consent and watch Hizashi carefully cut the bandages off. It took almost 15 minutes because Harry had to stop so many times to keep from crying. Hizashi never grew impatient and kept up a steady stream of nonsense to distract him. Harry blinked in shock when he saw red, shiny, skin instead of the deep weeping blisters that had been there before.

“Looks like your magic is helping you heal up pretty good,” Hizashi said casually. “Petunia said you had at least 2nd-degree burns but these look great!”

Harry yelped in shock and his eyes shot up to meet Hizashi's. The tall blond smirked at their nephew mischievously but kept a firm grip on Harry’s wrists for safety. “Are you magic too?” Harry asked in an excited whisper.

“Not quite,” Hizashi admitted with a half smile as they began doctoring the burns and rewrapping them in gauze. “I’d be more like, what do you guys call them here? Squibs? I’m more magical than Petunia but not nearly as magical as Lily. The good news is you’ve made it through the worst of the healing so we can use fewer bandages and we don’t have to make a trip to the hospital tonight.”

“Does Eraserhead…?” Harry trailed off uncertainly. Hizashi and Shouta were married from what Harry knew but he also remembered Seamus’s story about his parents was that spouses didn’t always tell each other about magic right away.

“Most pro heroes know,” Present Mic explained patiently. Harry thought they sounded a lot like a teacher and told them so. “Well-spotted little listener! When I’m not kicking butt and fighting crime or at my radio studio I teach the totally rad next generation of heroes at U.A. High School!”

“My friend Hermione wanted to go there,” Harry blurted out. Hermione had wanted to go to U.A. before she had been accepted into Hogwarts. She had whispered that secret into Harry’s back while he sobbed into his bed after the confrontation with Quriell-mort the stone. Hermione had chosen Hogwarts, in the end, to be different and finally stand out from her family... Hermione had chosen magic for the exact opposite reason Harry had, how funny.

Hizashi wanted to wrap their nephew up and squeeze him until he wasn’t sad anymore. Such a cute kid shouldn’t be so upset and the sad little frown on Harry’s face made Hizashi’s chest twist and stomach sour. The shock on Harry’s face when Hizashi reacted so casually to magic hurt but the sheer terror the child had exhibited when it came to his quirk almost gutted Hizashi.

It was always shocking for the Voice Hero to see just how resilient children could be. Even after all the emotional upheaval, Harry still chatted happily with Hizashi about his friends and Hogwarts. Hizashi learned about the brave Ron Weasley with a house full of brothers and one younger sister. He learned even more about Hermione Granger, the genius muggle-born girl who also had a quirk.

Hizashi kept Harry talking about safe things, his friends, and fun things about school until the pizza arrived. With dinner with the Dursleys being a bust and Harry’s hands being in good enough shape as soon as they had tended to Harry Hizashi shot several rapid-fire messages to Shouta and then another to Nezu in between calling and ordering two large pizzas and having them delivered to the hotel room.

Hizashi let Harry explain the brilliance that was Dr. Who and helped him eat pizza without hurting his hands until Hizashi couldn’t help but coo at Harry’s sleepy yawns. Harry had burned with shame when Hizashi asked him to get changed for bed and the hero moved quickly to not ruin the precious and fragile peace that that overtaken the hotel room. Harry was small for his age and absolutely swam in the shirt Hizashi had put him in, it was one of Shouta’s shirts.

On the front, an orange cat stared out at the world angrily with a speech bubble that clearly said “I’d rather be sleeping”. Harry had giggled when he saw it, unable to believe that the stern and serious Eraserhead would ever wear such a silly shirt. Hizashi couldn’t wait to show Harry just how silly Shouta could be.

Harry had been asleep for almost an hour by the time Shouta returned to the hotel room. The moon was just starting to peek through the perpetual English clouds that scattered across the night sky. Harry had drifted off in the middle of the Doctor saving the world, Hizashi loved Harry’s choice of classic heroes.

Hizashi met Shouta at the door and tried not to shake apart the moment their husband’s arms wrapped around their shoulders.

“Shou…,” Hizashi whispered, choking back emotion.

Shouta pulled Hizashi close and callused hands came up to tangle in Hizashi’s long, loose blond hair. The pair held tightly to each other and tried not to wake the child they had taken into their care sleeping just a few feet away.

“He was so scared,” Hizashi choked out. “And in so much pain. His magic healed him but he’s still hurting.”

“Nezu sent information about a consultation he has set up at the Great Ormond Street Hospital,” Shouta said softly. “Recovery Girl wants a full workup with a complete physical and quirk analysis.”

Hizashi was terrified of their rat/mouse/bear overlord but damn if the Principal wasn’t a good boss who went out of his way to protect the staff and their families.

“I don’t know what to do,” Hizashi admitted softly. Quiet snores from Harry echoed through the room.

“Vernon Dursley is a villain,” Shouta told them plainly. “And something about this wizard business isn’t right. Your sister is hiding something.”

“Harry reacted very strongly when I told him we knew about magic,” Hizasi reported, resisting the urge to pace wildly and throw their hands up in the air in frustration. Thankfully the drama of the day kept Harry sleeping hard and even the soft voices didn’t rouse him. “And I thought we were going to have to wait for you to erase his quirk to even check his hands. That kid needs help and a lot of it.”

“And it’s our job as heroes and his family, to see him get it,” Shouta said with no hesitation. It was at moments like this that Hizashi realized just how much they loved their husband.

“You’re so sexy when you do hero shit,” Hizashi whispered playfully. They pulled Shouta forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead while the other hero grumbled goodnaturedly. “Come grab a slice of pizza and we can call Nezu.”

HIzashi watched their husband practically melt into a puddle of exhausted hero and wiggle into his sleeping bag. The blond sighed and shook their head. Typical. “Or you do that and I get you a slice of pizza to eat on the floor,” Hizashi whispered with a smile.

Chapter Text

Shouta awoke with bright red eyes and floating hair. A childish scream echoed through the hotel room loudly but not dangerously, a distinction that Shouta made regularly. He easily slipped from his sleeping bag and kept a clear line of sight on the child just in case his hands were uncovered at all from his thrashing. Hizashi had explained how best they understood Harry’s quirk to work so Shouta tried to keep that in mind.

Hizashi moved just as quickly and reached Harry’s side in just a few moments.

“Harry, can you hear me? It’s Hizashi,” Hizashi called to their nephew. “Come on baby, open your eyes please.”

Shouta stood silent guardian as Hizashi slowly took Harry’s face into their hands and talented fingers gently brushed soft skin until bright green eyes managed to open. Shouta took a long step forward to pick Harry’s glasses up off the bedside table and deposited them into Hizashi’s waiting hand.

“Shou, love, can you get my hearing aids off the charger?” Hizashi asked quietly. “His hands are still wrapped up tight.”

Shouta tapped Hizashi’s shoulder in agreement and blinked hard, letting his quirk fade. He turned away but could still hear the soft words Hizashi was whispering to their nephew. It didn’t take long for Shouta to find himself back at Hizashi’s side, the blond smiled gratefully and carefully handed Shouta an armful of a sobbing child while his spouse fixed their hearing aids.

Harry cried himself out and he went back to sleep with his little face pressed firmly into Shouta's chest. Hizashi helped the pair wiggle under a blanket and Shouta let himself drift back to sleep with Hizashi humming in the background.

Morning came far too quickly and Shouta found himself awake the moment Harry woke up. The boy pulled away from where he had been using the hero as a pillow and did his best to keep his face neutral when the kid’s face turned bright red.

Shouta watched the boy scoot away and try to stare at Shouta without actually looking at him. Harry wasn’t doing it well. Unbothered, Shouta lazily rolled around and managed to get the blanket he had been sharing completely wrapped around himself. “Nice shirt,” Shouta muttered. Then without another word, he closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Harry squinted at the hero burrito blob that was probably his uncle before deciding that maybe Hizashi was his best bet for answers. Harry tried to look around the hotel room but didn’t see the hero anywhere. The boy took a moment and tried to determine if he could hear anyone in the bathroom but soon decided he and Shouta were alone. Harry yawned and made quick if not clumsy work of finding his glasses and the room came mostly into focus.

The hotel room looked basically the same in the light of day if not messier. Harry wanted to get up and look for Hizashi or at least visit the loo but Harry was tied moving felt like more work than Harry could put forth.

Harry wasn’t sure how long he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at the wall. It didn’t feel like very long but the door opening was the only thing that tugged him out of his thoughts and back to the waking world properly.

“Hey, there little listener!” Hizashi greeted. “Did you just wake up?”

Harry nodded hesitantly. He didn’t want to lie but he also didn’t want Hizashi to think he was being a layabout. Aunt Petunia hated layouts so Hizashi might as well.

“I don’t blame you, yesterday was pretty rough,” Hizashi said easily. “Today is going to be a lot too, just so you know. My boss helped set up a doctor’s appointment for you to check your hands and check out your quirk. Petunia or your school should have sent you to a quirk therapist as soon as your quirk manifested.”

“And we also need to talk about your living situation,” Hizashi said just as casually. Harry felt his chest seize and realized for the first time that just because Present Mic and Eraserhead had taken him away from the Dursleys it didn’t mean they would keep him. “Shouta and I absolutely have the space and we’d love for you to stay with us but we don’t want to assume anything ya dig?”

“Please can I stay with you?” Harry blurted out immediately awake.

Hizashi’s bright grin felt like feeling the sun for the first time. “Of course, you can!” Hizashi promised. “We’re family, kiddo, you’ll always have a place with me!”

Hizashi very valiantly managed not to coo at their nephew when he disappeared into the bathroom with bright red cheeks. They had noticed last night while watching Dr. Who that Harry got flustered very easily by gentle teasing or kind words. It was equal parts adorable and heartbreaking. So it wasn’t surprising that the kid needed space after the emotional day everyone had yesterday.

Hizashi let Shouta continue to doze and focused on popping open the minifridge to dig out the last remaining pizza box to serve as an easy breakfast. Hizashi pulled everything they would need, including grabbing two of Shouta’s jelly pouches from a nearby suitcase. It took nearly fifteen minutes for Harry to gather the courage to leave the bathroom. Hizashi couldn’t repress the coo at their kid’s adorable embarrassed face that time and laughed a little too loud when he got even redder.

“Sorry, sorry, my bad man!” Hizashi said with a laugh when Shouta’s grumpy red eyes popped open and cut off the laughter. “It’s time for you to wake up anyway Shou! Grab some pizza or a jelly pouch, water’s in the fridge.”

“Cold pizza for breakfast?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“It’s totally cool little Listener! Cold pizza makes the perfect breakfast!” Hizashi said cheerfully. “Hotel breakfast of champions!”

Harry frowned at the pizza box until the apple jelly pouch that Shouta hadn’t chosen landed next to Harry's leg. “If you don’t want cold pizza eat that,” Shouta said simply. “It has all the essential calories and nutrients you would need.”

Hizashi smothered more cooing as they watched but pretended not to watch Harry try the jelly pouch. Shouta made a decent show about slowly opening his own jelly pouch and conveniently describing how to properly seal it back up when he was down with it. Years of teaching stubborn teenagers made passing off certain skills easier if not even making it possible in the first place.

“So!” Hizashi said with a clap of their hands. Shouta glared irritably from his sleeping bag that had replaced the blanket burrito at some point while they ate. Harry was nibbling at his pizza, the jelly pouch had been a bit hit but that pre-teen metabolism quickly had Harry reaching for a slice of cold pizza like Hizashi. “Our appointment at the Ormond Street Hospital is at 3 this afternoon and Nezu is supposed to call at 10.”

“Do I have to go to the doctor?” Harry asked quietly. “You said my hands were getting better.”

“They are!” Hizashi said with a grin and thumbs up. “But Shouta and I want to make sure! Quirk manifestations can be really painful and we need to make sure your quirk didn’t hurt you too badly.”

Harry seemed to deflate and curl in on himself. Hizashi sat up quickly. “Hey listener, it happens! I don’t know why Petunia didn’t take you right after school to get your hands checked out but -”

“My quirk doesn’t hurt me,” Harry whispered.

Hizashi froze and shared a horrified look with Shouta above Harry’s bowed head. They had been under the impression that Harry’s hands were injuries from his quirk manifestation that Petunia had simply neglected to tend to or treat. The tightly controlled anger on Shouta’s face made it clear that Eraserhead had also made that assumption.

“Harry, did Petunia or Vernon hurt your hands?” Hizashi practically whispered in an attempt to keep their quirk at bay.

Harry shook his head hesitantly and rolled his shoulders forward, even more, to try and hide in plain sight.

“Vernon Dursley used his quirk to make you burn your hands,” Eraserhead pieced together. The man's shouting and Hizashi’s unnatural movements flashed through his mind. “Remember when he shouted at you last night? You were going to march yourself out of the house when he told you to if I hadn't erased his quirk.”

“Did Vernon Dursley use his quirk to make you hurt yourself?” Eraserhead asked Harry carefully. It was the same voice he’d use on the children he saved while working as an underground hero. While Eraser could guess what had occurred they really needed Harry to confirm it even if it seemed obvious.

Hizashi’s heart broke when shared green eyes met through two pairs of glasses, wondering if it was safe, to tell the truth. How could someone hurt him, Hizashi wondered. It didn’t make any sense. They tried to smile encouragingly and wanted to cry when Harry nodded hesitantly, confirming the abuse.

“Well, he’s going to fucking jail,” Hizashi announced. Rage roared in Hizashi’s chest and they wished Vernon Dursley was in front of them now because Hizashi wanted to scream in his face until his brain melted out of his stupid head. Instead, all they had was a frightened child and an equally furious husband. “I mean he was going to jail before but now he’s going to jail even harder!”

“Technically he’s already in jail,” Shouta explained. “I spoke with Ursa last night when she took him in, her agency has jurisdiction in Surrey. Since Vernon Dursley was taken into custody for illegal quirk use and battery with a quirk; the police force insisted that a local pro handle the arrest.”

Harry stared at Shouta wide-eyed in shock. The villain in the kid’s life had finally been taken down. Hizashi remembered just how freeing that was and knew Harry had to be a little overwhelmed.

A loud steady beeping pieced the emotionally charged atmosphere of the hotel. Shouta reacted first and pulled out the depressingly basic burner phone that he carried regularly. Hizashi’s own work phone had all the latest bells and whistles and what Shouta called the “ugliest and most gaudy” phone case in the world. Hizashi was sure that Shouta was just jealous of all the leather and rhinestones.

“Eraserhead here,” Shouta answered the phone. The man sighed but moved so the phone was balanced in his lap and tapped the speakerphone button.

“Hello! It's me, Nezu, the one who could be a dog or a mouse or a bear, but more importantly... I'm the principal!" A familiar voice chirped out of the phone.

“Are you really a dog, mouse, or bear?” Harry asked. Hizashi admired the kid’s bravery and wondered if it would carry over when he eventually met Nezu in person.

“Haha! What a curious young person! Delightful!” Nezu said, blowing right past Harry’s question. “I am calling to inform you that your appointments this afternoon have been finalized. I’ve reached out to a former colleague who has graciously offered to perform Harry’s quirk analysis.”

“That’s great!” Hizashi said. “We are going to have to speak with the police while we are here but the faster we can get to Japan the better.”

“I’ve never left England before,” Harry admitted to the phone. “And if I’m going to live with you does that mean I can’t go to Hogwarts anymore?”

Hizashi hummed thoughtfully. Harry was asking serious questions that really impacted his life, and they didn’t want to brush him off or make him feel unheard. “My legal team is working to get your custody worked out,” Hizashi said, being honest. “What’s with the face little listener? Oh, my legal team? Kid, they live for this stuff!”

“It’s easier because I’m a hero and we’re blood-related,” Hizashi admitted with a sheepish grin. “But I pay them well so they don’t mind doing some family work for us.”

“Mr. Potter’s passport should be ready for you at the front desk,” Nezu’s cheerful voice filtered through the phone. “I took the liberty of having it expedited after a conversation with your legal team Present Mic.”

“Hey! I said stop stealing my legal team!” Hizashi whined. “If another person quits taking a job at U.A. I’ll scream!”

“Offer better benefits,” Nezu retorted simply. Hizashi groaned but couldn’t keep a smile off their face when Harry giggled again. Nezu took the opportunity to talk with Harry. Hizashi could hear the principal asking about Hogwarts and knew that was an entire conversation that still needed to be had.

Hizashi was hesitant about the magic school. Nezu had looked into it, and while it claimed to be the pinnacle of magical education it had been easy to find evidence to suggest Hogwarts was a subpar school with a failing curriculum. Honestly, the reputation of the school made Hizashi wonder just how the teachers felt knowing their international colleagues were laughing at them.

Still, Hizashi recognized that Hogwarts was likely the first safe place for Harry if they were right. Quirkless kid had it rough, and until his quirk had manifested Harry had effectively been quirkless in a house full of bullies. Taking away that kind of safety could be devastating.

“I heard Present Mic shout and then Eraserhead was so cool with his hair everywhere and Uncle Vernon turned purple!” Harry said, breaking Hizashi’s train of thought. “They saved me! They really saved me.”

Warmth, Hizashi sniffed carefully and tried not to tear up. All they could feel was warmth in their chest radiating throughout their limbs. Harry was sharing his hero story with Nezu and he said they had saved him.

Hizashi smiled at their nephew, at their kid, and knew at that moment that they would spend the rest of their life trying to make him happy. Happy and safe. Hizashi felt Shouta’s fingers tangled together with their own and green eyes met gray. A silent promise and a silent prayer.

Hizashi would raise their sister’s son. Hizashi would love the abused kid who just needed a hero. Wizarding world be damned, they had their chance and Harry was Hizashi’s kid now. Fuck anyone who said otherwise.

Chapter Text

The hospital smelled like the hospital wing at Hogwarts; Harry wasn’t sure why that was a surprise to him but it honestly was. Harry couldn’t remember the last time he had been to the hospital, he assumed Aunt Petunia had taken him to get his jabs when he was a baby but he couldn’t be sure. He couldn’t remember ever going, not even when Dudley and Piers had broken his arm when was 8, it still hurt sometimes but his magic had done the best it could for as weak as it was.

Everyone told Harry that his magic was weak, Harry had seen his professors’ disappointment when he hadn’t shown the same power or aptitude his parents had. Harry had heard Professor McGonagall bemoaning that at least he had gotten James’s flying skills even if he’d never be more than average at transfiguration. Thankfully, no one but Snape was ever very loud about his power and skill, not like they were about Neville, at least until his quirk had come in. Harry was sure that next year people wouldn‘t bother being quiet about it.
Something sour bubbled up in his stomach at the thought of Hogwarts. Until yesterday Harry would have said that Hogwarts was his home, that the magical world was where he belonged but something had changed.

Said change winked at him from over yellow framed glasses. Hizashi and Shouta were dressed comfortably but didn’t look anything like the pro heroes they were. In fact with Shouta snoring gently into Hizashi’s shoulder, they looked normal. Hizashi’s hair was loose and stuffed under the leather jacket that Shouta was snoring on. Shouta was dressed in all black with his long scarf wrapped around his neck. Harry kind of thought he just looked well, a bit down on his luck truthfully.

A gentle breeze from a waved hand caught Harry’s attention and his eyes shot up to meet Hizashi’s gaze. Shouta was awake and it looked like Harry‘s name had been called while he was lost in thought.

“Sorry,” Harry said blushing. Hizashi smiled easily and waved it off. Harry would never admit it, but walking between Hizashi and Shouta with one on either side of him helped the anxiety that felt like it was living constantly in his chest. Knowing that his … Harry wasn’t sure what to call Hizashi. They had just laughed and told Harry to decide what he wanted to call them but Hizashi would always work. Still knowing his guardians were with him and were real heroes, people who would keep him safe, Harry felt safe going back to the doctor’s office.

That feeling slipped away the minute the nurse finished the initial physical checkups and moved on to examining Harry’s hands.

“No!” Harry shouted. He jerked back when the nurse reached for his hands without warning. Ash, all Harry could smell was ash. At that moment Harry was back standing in front of a mirror with a stone in his pocket.

“Give me the stone!” Quirrell roared but his mouth didn’t move. Harry screamed when hands grabbed him, fingers wrapped around his neck and squeezed.

Harry clawed at the hands around his throat, his nails dug into Quirrell’s skin and slick blood made it hard to hold on. Harry gasped and clawed but Professor Quirrell was too strong. Harry could hear the mad screams of his parent’s murderer chanting for his death.

“Kill the boy!”

Suddenly Quirrell screamed.

And everything…

turned to ash.

“Get out and get someone with a modicum of sense,” Shouta demanded. The moment Harry screamed Eraserhead had the nurse encased in his capture cloth. The nurse gave a short scream of surprise but glowing red eyes and ominous floating hair shut him up quickly.

Hizashi was rocking Harry as he sobbed and Shouta decided to turn his frustration on the nurse. “Go, now.” The nurse didn’t quite fly out of the exam room but rather slid out on the slick tile floor. Shouta slammed the exam room door and let his quirk fade away with a blink.

“Flashback or…” Shouta asked moving back to stand closer to his family.

“Flashback I think,” Hizashi said. “He keeps saying sorry.”

“We still don’t know what happened when his quirk manifested,” Shouta reminded his spouse. “This trauma could be related to that and not the injuries.”

“I know,” Hizashi admitted. “We can’t ask him here.”

“Later,” Shouta agreed.

Hizashi hummed a familiar tune and continued to rock Harry while Shouta stood silent guard.

“Hizashi?” Harry said softly when he was ready to face the world.

“Hey there little listener,” Hizashi greeted. Shouta watched Hizashi carefully brush back the shaggy dark hair from Harry’s forehead and eyes. “You back with us?”

“What happened?” Harry asked uncertainly. Shouta wasn’t sure if he really didn’t remember what had set him off or if Harry was just trying to gauge Hizashi’s mood and reaction.

“Well, we think you might have gotten a little scared,” Hizashi said simply. “Did the nurse scare you?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” Shouta told Harry. “No one should ever grab or touch you without your permission. You did the right thing, if a stranger tries again you can punch them. Do you know how to throw a punch?”

“My best mate’s brothers tried to teach me,” Harry admitted. “But I don’t think I can do it right.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Shouta said. “I’ll teach you when we get home.”

“Until then, I’ll punch anyone who needs it,” Hizashi said, cutting into the conversation. Harry giggled but Shouta shot a look at Hizashi the gleam in their eyes made it clear that his spouse wasn’t joking.

A sharp knock at the door had Harry wilt. Shouta stood and moved to answer the door. He slipped from the exam room leaving Hizashi to comfort Harry. Shouta’s unimpressed gray eyes met the worried gaze of an older gentleman with cotton candy pink hair and ram horns curling out of his head.

“I am Doctor Horne,” the man introduced himself. “I want to offer my most sincere apologies. Mr. Potter is still listed as quirkless on documentation, so Jonathon didn’t even consider his hands could be his quirk factor.”

“Even if Harry was quirkless your nurse shouldn’t be grabbing children like that without warning,” Shouta said bluntly. “I expected better from someone Nezu recommended.”

The doctor flinched but didn’t argue. “You’re right,” Dr. Horne acknowledged. “I will be handling every aspect of Mr. Potter’s case moving forward; this will not be an issue moving forward.”

“I would hope not,” Shouta said dryly. “Wait here.”

Shouta ignored the doctor and slipped back into the exam room. Hizashi had shed their leather jacket and had draped it around Harry’s shoulders. Whatever conversation they had been having ended when Shouta came back into the room.

“Hey kid, how are you doing?” Shouta asked, looking Harry over. His face was still a little red but he didn’t look a second away from a panic attack.

“I’m fine,” Harry said quickly. Hizashi snorted in disbelief, Shouta got the idea that Harry and Hizashi had maybe had his conversation before. “The doctor can come in and we can do the physical.”

“You don’t have to be fine,” Shouta told Harry. “But if you are sure I will let Dr. Horne in. Are you ready for that?”

Harry nodded and burrowed deeper into Hizashi’s jacket. Shouta sighed and shuffled back to the door and let the doctor in the exam room. “Do not make him cry,” Shouta threatened the doctor. “Just don’t.”

“I will do my best,” Dr. Horne promised Shouta before moving to greet Harry. “Hello there, Harry, I am so sorry to hear that things haven’t gone well this visit. I promise I’ll do my best to make sure you are taken care of from here on out. Does that sound okay?”

Shouta’s opinion of the doctor did go up a little at that moment. He could actually see why Nezu had recommended Dr. Horne when the older man interacted with Harry. Maybe Shouta wouldn’t have to drop the doctor off the top of the building. The nurse, well, Shouta wasn’t sure that anyone would care and he’d catch the man before he hit the ground. Shouta was a hero after all.

Chapter Text

Harry had been checked over from head to toe. His quirk had been analyzed and properly registered for the first time. Petunia hadn’t bothered to have her nephew’s quirk status updated so Hizashi walked Harry through describing his quirk and giving it the official name “Ash”.

“So young Harry's quirk name is a bit of a misnomer,” Dr. Horne explained with a laugh. “That’s what we get for letting children name their quirks, I suppose.”

Harry blushed bright red but Hizashi loudly remarked that they thought the name was “hella rad”.

“Hizashi’s quirk is called ‘Voice’ and mine is ‘Erasure’,” Shouta told Harry dryly. “Quirk names don’t have to be perfect or all-inclusive. What matters is that you do your best to master your quirk and use it responsibly.”

“A more apt description would actually be Incomplete Combustion,” Dr. Horne continued. “The ash that is produced is actually the waste product of this incomplete combustion.”

Dr. Horne had provided a cartoon drawing of hands with different parts labeled and notes written on the side. Hizashi, Shouta, and Harry each received a flyer with a hand drawing on it. Harry stared at it curiously for a moment before shifting his gaze to his own hand which was no longer bandaged but instead was wearing a funny pair of hospital-issue gloves that covered three of his fingers but not the other two.

“Harry's body naturally maintains a high level of something called Ktedonobacteria on the surface of the skin of his hands,” the doctor said. “As you can see here on the diagram, his hands also have unique glands under the surface of the skin filled with a coenzyme called Nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide which comes from our metabolisms and is normally present in our bodies in trace amounts but Harry's cells produce an excess of this and funnel the extra to these glands where they ferment the Ktedonobacteria.”

“When we looked closely we found that Harry's fingers have microscopic spine-like structures that allow his body to inject the NAD+ into whatever he is touching with all his fingers. The glands don't appear to activate unless Harry puts pressure with all 5 fingers on one hand.”

“So standard commercial gloves should work for him,” Hizashi said thoughtfully. “We can have something custom-made if we need to. It doesn’t sound like he’ll need it.”

“Correct,” Dr. Horne agreed. “The hospital-issue pair he’s wearing now is similar to anything you find on the market available to civilians. He shouldn’t need anything more complex than that.”

“The gloves keep him from unintentionally injecting the NAD+ because when he does a large amount of the Ktedonobacteria that is found on Harry’s skin then follows the NAD+ into the object wanting to consume the free 'food' so to speak,” The lecture continued. “The Ktedonobacteria rapidly oxidize hydrogen and carbon monoxide which causes a reaction by pooling together the heat of whatever object he touches. The temperature is then raised as quickly as possible and held there until the temperature of the material rises above its ignition point due to the bacteria feeding the reaction until they run out of energy and decay rapidly.”

“So long story short, his Quirk manages to bring everything up to the ignition point and it immolates rapidly, leaving just ash,” Hizashi summarised quickly showing off the keen intelligence that often hid behind leather and spikes. Dr. Horne beamed at them happily.

“Exactly! Now, we likely won’t know for sure until later, but from what Harry has reported the extreme pain he has been feeling in his hands is likely due to internal pressure from having an excess of the bacteria and any gases they might create as waste products,” the Ram-quirked man said. “Harry did report a lessening of the discomfort after the tests we performed that required him to use his quirk. I would suggest working with him regularly to keep his discomfort down.”

“Well, I think that covers it,” Dr. Horne said with a tired smile. The small family had been at the hospital for several hours now and everyone was exhausted. “Unless you have anything you’d like me to test for?”

Harry’s mind was spinning out of control. It felt like he had only understood maybe one-third of what Dr. Horne told them about his quirk. Spines and bacteria; it didn’t make much sense to him. It was all ash in the end.

“Do you have the equipment here to test Harry’s hearing?”

Harry’s head jerked up in confusion. Every adult in Harry’s life had commented on his vision at one point or another. Even Dr. Horne had pulled an optometrist from somewhere to test Harry's vision and update his prescription. Hizashi and Shouta had been angry that Harry’s glasses had come from a donation bin that Aunt Petunia had brought home for him one day.

No one at Hogwarts cared that Harry had to squint to see the blackboards or that he struggled to read the textbooks. But Hizashi and Shouta did. So maybe this was the same thing, but Harry wasn’t sure.

“Did I do something wrong?” Harry asked. He was ashamed to admit that his voice trembled a little, where was his Gryffindor bravery?

“Oh no, you didn’t do anything wrong, baby!” Hizashi was quick to reassure him. “But I’ve noticed that you don’t always hear us the first time we say your name. And you watch our lips a lot too.”

Harry’s eyes flicked from where they had instinctually fallen to Hizashi’s lips and met Hizashi’s sympathetic eyes.

“Shouta pointed that one out,” Hizashi said with a soft laugh. “You seem to hear us better when you can see us talking to you.”

“Well that does seem to warrant a hearing test,” Dr. Horne agreed. “Does Harry have a genetic history of deafness in his family?”

“Both of his previous guardians had voice-related quirks, and I know how hard those can be on someone’s ears,” Hizashi said with a slightly self-deprecating smile. Harry wanted to reach out and grab Hizashi’s hand like they would have done for him but even with the gloves covering his hands Harry hesitated.

“My hearing loss was quirk related and I’m worried that Harry might have similar damage,” Hizashi finished. “It’s absolutely something we can handle but we need to know if this is a trauma response or hearing loss.

Dr. Horne frowned but nodded and scribbled something on Harry’s chart.

“We have the equipment here, and I believe it’s available, our normal healing tests occur in the mornings. Excuse me, I'll step out and call ahead to make sure the equipment is free.”

Harry didn’t hear the doctor leave and the knowledge scared him. Wild green eyes shot up and met gray; Shouta was all Harry could see.

“You are safe,” Shouta told him. Harry tried to keep his breathing even but suddenly it was very hard. “This has been your reality for a while, this is just you confronting it. We are putting words and giving names to problems that you have already learned to handle. All this means is we can adapt and we can make use of resources that we have available to better your life.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Hizashi said soothingly. “We’ve got this kid. The three of us.”

Hizashi wished the day would end. All three of them were exhausted. Shouta had Harry on his back, the eleven-year-old finally giving in when the walk from the tube to the hotel turned out to be more than he could handle after a long day at the hospital.

The physical and the quirk analysis ended up lasting hours then the hearing exam was just added on. Harry was irritable and hungry. Hizashi shook their head at the reminder. Before they had left Dr. Horne informed Hizashi and Shouta of some of the drawbacks they might see from Harry’s quirk manifesting.

Dr. Horne called it having a hypermetabolism and suspected that Harry would need an ‘abnormally high intake of calories’. But it also had other symptoms like weight loss, something that Harry’s already thin frame couldn't really afford.

Hizashi had never expected to become a parent when they convinced Shouta to fly across the world with them. They weren’t even 30 and now instead of students being the only children Hizashi was responsible for they had a kid. A traumatized kid with lasting damage from the abuse he suffered.

Was it possible to feel betrayed by a stranger? Even if the stranger was supposed to be your sister? Hizashi had been ecstatic to have the chance to meet their family. Hizashi’s sperm donor was apparently a repeat offender deadbeat but that shouldn’t have been a shock since he left Petunia and Lily long before he had gone off to abandon Hizashi.

The age gap between them had made Hizashi reluctant but the lure of blood relations ended up being too strong and Hizashi was so glad that they had come.

Harry was great. Sure every parent Hizashi had ever met said the same thing, but it had only been a few days and Hizashi was never giving him up. Shouta was in agreement. Nezu, in an attempt to get his teachers back home sooner, helped smooth along Harry’s guardianship. Hizashi’s legal team managed to get it wrapped up in record time and as soon as the paperwork was printed Harry was free to leave the country.

The hearing exam, the results of which had already been sent to U.A. to begin fabrication of hearing aids for Harry, had been the last doctor’s appointment. Hizashi wasn’t sure the boy would use them, at least not right away, but his hearing loss was what Dr. Horne had called moderate.

The final thing they had to do before they could take Harry and run was deal with the wizards. Being magic neutral, or a squib as the British liked to say, meant that Hizashi didn't have much to do with the magical community in Japan. It was still firmly separate and the punishment for exposure was steep. The Japanese Ministry of Magical Beings and Creatures hated heroes and only ever begrudgingly worked with anyone with a quirk. Hizashi was sure that England’s magical community was similar if not worse. Ideally, Hizashi would just pull Harry from Hogwarts and be down with it, but they and Shouta agreed that Harry needed to be a part of that conversation.

“Hey, I’m going to put Harry to bed,” Shouta said. Hizashi blinked tiredly at their spouse and nodded when the words finally made sense.

“I’m going to text, Nem,” Hizashi said. “Tomorrow is magic day. She said she would take a portkey and meet us over here. Guess she doesn’t think a null and a neutral could handle all the evil wizards without her.”

“She’s probably right,” Shouta reminded them. “She’s actually magical. That means something in these circles and you know it.”

“I know,” Hizashi admitted as they leaned forward to press a kiss to Shouta’s dry lips and then to Harry’s messy dark hair on Shouta’s shoulder. “Harry will like meeting another magical person with a quirk, I think.”

“Send her the message before you forget,” Shouta reminded them. Hizashi watched Shouta carefully drop Harry on the hotel bed and remove his shoes. Poor kid was dead to the world. Luckily the sweats and t-shirt that Hizashi had bought from the hotel shop that morning when they realised Harry didn’t have any clothing to wear to the hospital would work fine to sleep in.

Seeing that Shouta had it well in hand Hizashi picked up their phone and pulled up a familiar contact. They took a moment to choose the best picture, the obvious answer was the adorable shot Hizashi had taken of Harry slurping down a jelly pouch and the surprise on his face when tasted better than had expected.

To: Midnight

Present Mic: baby.jpeg
Present Mic: Look at my son

Midnight: !!!
Midnight: My handsome nephew!
Midnight: Is it time for Auntie Midnight to appear and show you both up?

Present Mic: Good luck lmao
Present Mic: Harry is an Eraser stan
Present Mic: happened so fast i didn’t even stand a chance ╥﹏╥

Midnight: I’m sure I’ll win him over. I have gifts!

Present Mic: Please do not spoil my kid
Present Mic: Wait wtf am I saying pls spoil him

Midnight: It’s cute you thought you could stop me (*^‿^*)
Midnight: I should arrive at 1pm your time
Midnight: See you then!

Present Mic: ty ♪(･ω･)ﾉ

Chapter Text

“Please step forward out of the portkey point so the next group isn’t delayed,” A bored drawl called. Nemuri was the only one in her group that didn’t stumble as they landed. Her long dark hair was pulled back and from the uneasy glances, she was sure the family resemblance was obvious.

Kayama Nemuri hadn’t been to Britain in years, and if it wasn't for her best friends and their new son needing her help, she was sure that she would have never stepped foot back in the country of her birth.

Born the youngest of four girls in a traditional pureblood home when she was younger, Nemuri would have never expected to leave Great Britain. In fact, Nemuri’s life would have been much different if her parents hadn’t assumed she was magic-neutral when she failed to exhibit the same amount of accidental magic as her sisters had when they were young. A cynical part of her knew that even if her parents hadn’t tossed her out like spoiled takeaway, they would have cast her out when her quirk manifested. The Black family never tolerated quirks, especially not in their own members.

The ministry's international portkey point was placed inconveniently, like most things in the magical world. In this case, the international portkey point was the furthest from the exit, which for such a xenophobic and bigoted government seemed like a poor idea. This did, however, allow Nemuri to do a little snooping.

Nemrui knew that, in this case, Hizashi and Shouta depended on her to be a rock in a sea of magical craziness. Midnight’s agency was one of the only ones in Japan that worked with the Japanese Ministry of Magical Beings and Creatures, and she knew it was only because she was a pureblood that they let her in the door. Even if her memory of the politics of magical Britain were faint and faded if she could protect her friends, she would.

Protecting her friends was the reason she was still in the ministry. While it was inconvenient that the exit was so far from the portkey point, it did allow her to snoop a little. Dressed as finely as any proper pureblood, Nemuri didn’t garner too much attention, outside of a few dirty looks likely due to her obvious genealogy; out of the four of them, Nemuri had never been the odd sister out in terms of appearance.
Still, the pro used her practical invisibility and explored all of the rooms and information available to magical citizens. That was how she found the neglected and relatively unknown Hero Liaison Office.

“Knock knock!” Nemuri practically purred as she barged into the office with a swirl of perfectly pressed robes.

The sleepy young woman manning the desk jerked upright and gaped at the beautiful woman in front of her.

“Hello, darling,” Midnight said in the breathy tone she adopted in her hero persona. “It looks like you are the one I need…”

“H-how can I-I help you?” the young woman squeaked out.

Midnight smiled wickedly and twirled her wand gracefully in one hand. “My name is Nemuri Kayama, and I’m known as the R-Rated Hero: Midnight,” Midnight purred. “Do you handle hero reciprocity?”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” the secretary stuttered out. “Uh, we have a form?”

“Of course you do,” Midnight teased. “We must have the proper forms. We wouldn’t want to be naughty, would we?”

Midnight smiled sharply when the woman swallowed loudly. This was going to be easier than she thought.

“Be a good girl for me and prepare a few of the forms to go,” Midnight said teasingly. She resisted the urge to cackle when the poor young woman turned bright red and fled to find the forms Nemuri needed.

Left alone, Nemuri took the chance to look over the office. The walls were bare, and the cramped space didn’t even have a window, but considering that most magical were more likely to call anyone with a quirk a slur than do anything to better their life, it wasn’t really a shock.

Still, that boring visage brought her attention to the abandoned desk and the copy of the Daily Prophet spread out on the top.

“THE BOY-WHO-LIVED FIRST - YEAR AT HOGWARTS!”

“Hogwarts Professor Spills All In Review of Potter’s First Year!”

Nemuri felt her heart race when she saw the headlines and wanted to curse someone when she recognized the boy in the photo. His cute little face was her phone lock screen and had been the minute Hizashi had sent her the picture of him looking like a green-eyed little Shouta eating a jelly pouch.

Nemuri hadn’t put it together until that moment. Potter. Lily Evans Potter. Hizashi’s sister had been Lily Evans Potter, the mother of the Boy-Who-Lived. Nemuri’s poor nephew was Harry Potter, one of the most famous magicals in Great Britain.

“Shouta is going to flip,” Midnight whispered to herself. Without worrying about it, Nemuri swept up the newspaper and folded it into her pocket. The woman running the desk wouldn’t notice its absence, Midnight was sure of it.

Harry fiddled anxiously with the hem of his gloves. The last few days had been insane, and Harry was excited for the insanity to keep on coming. Being rescued from the Dursleys had been a dream, a fantasy of Harry’s for as long as he could remember. Dreams of heroes on flying motorbikes coming to save him never ended, not even when he got his Hogwarts letter.

If Harry was truly honest with himself, there were several times at Hogwarts when Harry wanted someone to save him. After nightmares and adventures when the reality of fighting a troll and facing the villain who had murdered his parents hit, all Harry wanted was a hero.

That was why he took it when Hizashi and Shouta offered him a place. Present Mic had been Harry’s hero since he was little, and Eraserhead had saved him from the Dursleys, and there was no universe in which Harry said ‘no’ to living with his mother’s sibling.

But Harry knew that just because he said yes, that didn’t mean Hizashi and Shouta would keep him. The Durselys constantly complained that Harry was a burden even before his dangerous quirk or magic.

“She’s going to love you,” Hizashi said, breaking Harry from his thoughts. The small family was preparing to leave the hotel. The plan was to meet Midnight outside of the Leaky Cauldron and then go into Diagon Alley to visit the bank. Hizashi and Shouta debated whether to call a taxi or take the tube before Hizashi noticed Harry’s stress.

“What?”

“Nemuri, Midnight,” Hizashi clarified. “She’s going to love you, and I have it on good authority that she intends to spoil you rotten.”

“Don’t let her buy your love,” Shouta remarked from his sleeping bag cocoon.

“For real, I was just kidding. She already loves you, kiddo, trust me,” Hizashi laughed. “The gifts are just her attempts to weasel her way onto your favorite hero list.”

“Oh,” Harry said thoughtfully. It wouldn’t be hard; Harry’s favorite hero list was depressingly short.

Present Mic & Eraserhead

Harry hadn’t figured out who to give the number one stop, so he decided to have them share. Hizashi had told him he didn’t have to have just one favorite hero. So there was plenty of room for Midnight if she was nice.

“What were you thinking about before?” Hizashi asked lightly. “It looked like you were thinking about something pretty serious.”

Harry frowned thoughtfully and weighed whether or not to be honest with his guardians. Hizashi and Shouta had listened to everything Harry had told them. They had believed him when no one else had before, but was it enough?

In the end, Harry always chose bravery.

“Why do you want me?” Harry blurted out. “No one else has before, and you don’t even know me!

Harry saw Shouta shoot upright, but he continued speaking. Something inside of him was just broken, and the words poured out. Not even Hizashi’s concerned face and sympathetic eyes could stop the flood of words.

“You don’t know what I’ve done,” Harry whispered. Guilt was heavy in his voice. “You don’t know how much trouble I am.”

“What do you mean, kiddo?” Hizashi asked gently. “What do you think you’ve done that would make us not want you?”

“I’m a villain,” Harry said, sobbing. “I’m a villain, and I’m bad! Professor Quirrell grabbed me, and then he was gone! Ash. Ash. Ash. Everything is ash!”

Harry found himself pressed tightly to a firm chest, and he screamed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Please don’t leave me! I’ll be good. I don’t want to be a villain,” Harry sobbed into Hizashi’s chest. “Please don’t leave me.”

“Hush, you’re okay.” Hizashi soothed. “Just breathe with me, okay?”

Harry tried to agree, but the kindness just made him cry louder.

“I’ve messaged Nem,” Harry faintly heard Shouta say. “She is going to meet us here.”
That just made Harry cry even harder. He was such a burden. He ruined everything! How could two amazing people like Hizashi and Shouta want anything to do with him? How could they want such a freak?

“Harry, baby, can you look at me, please,” Hizashi pleaded. “Just for a second.”

Slowly and cautiously, Harry peeked up at Hizashi. Harry’s glasses were askew, but it was easy to see the warmth in Hizashi’s eyes. The understanding was plain on their face, and Harry couldn’t look away.

“There you are,” Hizashi said gently. “Thank you for doing that. Are you cold? You’re shaking.”

All at once, Harry noticed he was shivering and nodded his head. Shouta was the one who wrapped him in a blanket and helped get him settled back against Hizashi’s side. Not once did Hizashi let go of Harry’s gloved hand.

“Alright, now let’s take a second, you told us a lot of things, but we didn’t get any context,” Hizashi said thoughtfully. “Can we start from the beginning?”

“No, you’ll hate me!” Harry cried out, pulling the blanket close. “Aunt Petunia said you’d take me to jail!”

Hizashi scowled at the mention of their sister. “Petunia wouldn’t know a pro hero from a meter maid,” they said irritably but still smiled at Harry. “Don’t listen to her, Harry. Whatever happened, we will deal with it together. I promised that you would always have a place with me, and I don’t break promises.”

“We can’t take steps to fix things until we know what happened,” Shouta agreed. Harry risked a look at the hero and found him looking just as genuine and kind as Hizashi. Gray eyes held green, and Hizashi held Harry’s as the story came out.

Harry told them about the Hogwarts letters from no one, always addressed to his cupboard until the Dursleys got scared and gave him a bedroom for the first time ever. Not that he got to keep it, Harry told them. Before Hizashi and Shouta had saved him, Harry had been back in the cupboard, squished in the too-tight space with his trunk and only the spiders for company.

He told them about Hagrid and the trip to Diagon Alley. Harry spoke about the people he met, especially Professor Quirrell, and the package that Hagrid had taken from the bank vault.

Harry explained his time at Hogwarts. Dealing with the bullying for not living up to his parent's legacy. He told them about the detentions he received, the points that were taken, and the mystery of the third-floor corridor. Harry detailed how they put together the mystery of what was hidden in the school and explained why three children felt the need to protect it and why no one helped.

Finally, Harry talked about the chamber. He told them about the challenges and how he and his friends overcame them, but in the end, only Harry stood before Professor Quirrell. Harry was alone when a full-grown man, a professor that Harry had known all school year, attempted to kill him. In hushed horror, Harry told them about the monster Quirrell had carried with him all year. Harry had sobbed when he admitted that he thought he would die in the chamber.

“He asked me to join him,” Harry whispered horrifiedly. “I said no! I told him I wouldn’t, and then Voldemort told Quierrell to grab me, and his hands were around my throat, and I couldn’t breathe!”

“So I grabbed his hands, and I scratched him and pulled, but he wouldn’t let go,” Harry said. “I thought I was going to die.”

“What happened after that?” Hizashi prompted.

“He turned to ash,” Harry admitted. “His hands first, and he fell back screaming.”

“It was just his hands? Not the rest of him?” Shouta asked, wanting to clarify. Dr. Horne had explained that Harry didn’t have the control to partially ‘ash’ something. It was possible that later in the future, Harry’s control could improve, but at the moment, Harry didn’t have the control to start and stop mid-quirk use.

“But he tried to grab me again,” Harry said. “And then he was gone.”

Harry’s breath hitched, and his shoulders shook from the effort of trying not to cry. Hizashi hadn’t let go, and Shouta never looked away, but his eyes stayed gray. “Please don’t leave me,” Harry begged. “I don’t want to be a villain. I’ll be good.”

“Shush, it’s okay, baby,” Hizashi said. Harry found himself wrapped up tightly in strong arms and felt safe for the moment. “Thank you for sharing that with us. I know it was hard.”

“I don’t want to go to jail!” Harry wailed.

“You aren’t going to jail,” Shouta said. Harry wanted to believe him. He wanted to trust the firm tone. Harry wanted to trust Shouta and Hizashi, but he was scared. “Harry, that man tried to kill you. You said he strangled you, and your quirk manifested. We have records from Dr. Horne that you can’t control your power. It was self-defense, Harry.”

Harry shook his head and ducked his head to look away. Shouta was wrong. Shouta had to be wrong. “I killed him! He’s dead!” Harry cried. “I’m bad!”

“NO! Eyes up, baby, please listen to me,” Hizashi cut in when Harry started pulling his hair, trying to express his stress. Gentle hands untangled little fingers from messy hair and gently soothed the inflamed scalp. “This was not your fault. You are not a villain. Teachers should never, ever hurt students, and if anyone ever tries to take you away from us for this, I’ll bury them in lawyers and heroes. No one is going to punish you for defending yourself.”

“You aren’t a villain, Harry,” Shouta told him. “You are a little boy. Who you become one day will largely be up to you, but I’ve seen villains, and you aren’t one.”

Harry felt more than saw Shouta and Hizashi move to bracket him on each side. Warm bodies and the sensation of people on either side of him, combined with the kindness and the love, hurt his chest.

“Don’t leave me,” Harry begged as he cried. “Please don’t leave me.”

“You’re stuck with us,” Shouta promised. “If I couldn’t chase Hizashi off, I can’t imagine you’d manage.”

Harry sniffed and hid his face in Hizashi’s side, his hand now tangled in the stiff material of Shouta’s binding cloth, and tried to breathe. Harry was sick of crying. He was sick of being scared. Why was everything so hard? Harry let his eyes drift closed and his breathing slow.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine; you make me happy when skies are gray,” Hizashi sang softly until Harry was asleep.

Chapter Text

“He’s so little,” Nemuri whispered. After leaving the Ministry of Magic with more paperwork than she had expected, Nemuri had been frightened to see the message from Shouta.

To: Midnight

Eraserhead: Change of plans
Eraserhead: [Eraserhead has shared their location]

She had apparated as soon as she could. A quick glance at her phone told her to let herself in and when she did get inside Nemuri had to do her best not to squeal in excitement. The little family was curled up together on one of the double beds that came with the hotel room. Hizashi wiggled away and let Shouta pull the sleeping kid closer.

“Can you?” Hizashi whispered, signing along with their words. Nem nodded and flicked her wand into her hand. Silencing spells were easy enough and likely what Hizashi had meant but instead, Nemuri decided to cast a nanny-monitoring charm.

“The bed is charmed,” Nemuri said at her normal volume. “He won’t hear anything until he wakes up.”

Hizashi nodded thankfully and signed the information to Shouta who made quick work of trying to untangle Harry’s fingers from his capture scarf but let Harry keep it in the end.

Nemuri watched Hizashi and Shouta snuggle together. They both looked wrecked in a way that Nemuri hadn’t seen in years. Something was wrong. “Tell me everything,” she insisted and almost wished they didn’t.

“He’s just a baby,” Midnight said horrified. “The paper didn’t even cover half of this…”

“What paper,” Eraserhead demanded. Midnight frowned but pulled the stack of papers she had shrunk and bound together with magic from her robe pocket. With a whispered spell Nemuri handed off the magical newspaper to her friend.

“What.”

“Is that…?” Hizashi asked as they leaned over to read the flashing headline.

“Hogwarts Professor Spills All In Review of Potter’s First Year!”

“Oh hell no,” Hizashi growled. The blond lunged for their phone and began rapidly shooting off messages to their legal team and to Nezu. “I need a damn magical lawyer.”

“And you are in luck, darling!,” Midnight teased with sharp eyes. “As it turns out my sister is one of the best law-witches in Great Britain. Here’s her card.”

“Andromeda Tonks, Law Witch,” Hizashi read the name with raised eyebrows. “I always forget the weird names you and your sisters have, no wonder you don’t go by C-”

“I’ll kill you and hide the body,” Nemuri teased with a sultry smile. “Shouta would thank me for the peace and quiet.”

“The paper doesn’t name the professor,” Shouta announced. He had completely ignored the banter and focused on the article instead. “They spoke under the condition of anonymity but the paper used she/her pronouns and mentioned a long tenure at Hogwarts, so unless they are attempting a logical ruse we can assume an older likely female professor. The details she shared are not overly specific and mostly consist of general observations. Harry likely didn't spend much time with this professor.”

“Calm down there Sherlock Holmes,” Nermuri said. “There’s more.”

Nemuri handed over the second, older paper that she had managed to sweet talk away from the poor flustered secretary at the Hero Liaison Office.

“Sub-par Potter Revealed as Quirked?” Hizashi snarled the headline and then quickly turned their attention to the byline. “Who is letting people write things like this about a kid? Who the fuck does Rita Skeeter she is?”

“I’ve told you before unless someone makes them magical people ignore the laws,” Midnight said stiffly. “That’s why I’m sure if we found more back issues they’d have similar headlines.”

“This is so fucked,” Hizashi mumbled. They slumped forward exhausted.

“There’s more,” Nemuri admitted.

“Of course.” Hizashi pulled their glasses off and rubbed harshly at their eyes before righting his glasses and taking a fortifying breath. “Alright hit me.”

“The magical government only recognizes quirked magical people,” Midnight explained. “So only you and I can get reciprocity here on the magical side. It’ll be hard enough for you as magic neutral, but I think I can register Eraser as a sidekick to get him recognized. It won’t hurt to try anyway.”

“Now, what are you hiding,” Shouta demanded. “You’ve been drip-feeding us information and you haven’t put your wand away. What is it?”

“Can’t you just let me process things first, Shou?” Nemuri whined. She frowned at her wand but with a flick of her wrist tucked the beautiful beech wand into the holster up her robe sleeve. She pouted a bit when both of her friends gave her an unimpressed glare. “Alright fine… Have either of you heard the name Voldemort yet outside of what Harry told you?”

“Not even once,” Shouta said quickly.

“That’s not an accident. Voldemort is the magical equivalent of a villain. They call him a Dark Lord,” Nemuri explained.

“And he killed Lily?” Hizashi asked. Nemuri shot them a sympathetic smile at the mention of their deceased sister.

“That’s right, and from what I can tell everyone thought that Voldemort died that night too,” Midnight reported. “The fact that Harry encountered him possessing his teacher is more than a little concerning.”

“Is there magic that could keep someone alive like that?” Hizashi asked. “But I guess we can’t really rule out a quirk either…”

“Voldemort couldn’t have been his birth name, what was he really called?” Eraserhead asked. “If he was born outside of the magical community or had a quirk it might be registered.”

“The magical community is terrible at quirk registration,” Midnight explained. “And they have no respect for other people’s privacy. I should not have been able to get this information without Harry’s guardian present.”

Nemuri passed HIzashi and Shouta a thin, sad file with Harry’s name on the tab.

“His quirk is registered with the magical community and his manifestation was recorded and accepted; the death of Quirinus Quirrell was deemed a tragic quirk-based accident,” She told them as she tapped the date with her well-groomed painted nails. “That date was weeks ago but the Hero Liaison Office, which doubles as the only quirk support magicals get, hadn't sent it to anyone else.”

“They just let him think he was a villain,” Hizashi said, swallowing back anger. “He thought he was going to jail for protecting himself and that we’d hate him. I don’t think anyone told him he wasn’t at fault.”

“If they did, they didn’t do it well enough,” Shouta agreed gruffly. Nemuri was glad for the nanny-charm, Harry didn’t need to see this, their anger no matter how justified wouldn't help the boy.

“Hey, we’re here now,” Nemuri said softly. The hero reached out and grabbed her friends and pulled them into a hug. “We’re here and we’ll fix it.”

“And remember,” Auntie Nemuri said in a stern tone. “Be respectful, the dwarves aren’t treated well here and they hate magical people because of it.”

“I don’t blame them,” Hizashi said with a scoff. “Magical people seem like real gits! That’s what you’d say right, Harry? Gits?”

Harry tried not to smile but nodded. Ever since Harry had woken up to find the three pro heroes rather than the two who had been there when he cried himself to sleep. The beautiful woman had quickly introduced herself as Auntie Nem or Auntie Midnight whichever matched her outfit at the time.

The baffled boy had found himself rather…aggressively supported. The trio had sat Harry down with a glass of water and a peach-flavored jelly pouch and had walked him through the quirk manifestation report.

The initial report had been filled out by Professor McGonagall according to the signature at the bottom. It gave a bare-bones and factually correct summary of the situation. Attached were a few documents and the one that Hizashi had asked Harry to read out loud said that Professor Quirrell’s death had been an accident and the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones had signed the document that told the world that Harry wasn’t at fault and wouldn’t be charged.

Harry cried again into Hizashi’s chest but this time it was a happy cry and the weight that had been crushing his chest for days finally melted away.

It was strange, Harry thought. Aunt Petunia had never let Harry cry and would have never, ever, let him cry on her as Hizashi had. Uncle Vernon would have never ever told Harry that he was good or worth something, but Shouta had. Even the newest adult in Harry’s life, Auntie Nemuri was already throwing everything Harry knew about adults away. She was the first witch whose eyes hadn’t immediately gone to Harry’s scar. She was the first witch to not treat him like a freak for having survived his parent’s death.

“Harry, sweetheart, do you remember what happened to your bank key?” Auntie Nemuri asked, making Harry blink. He smiled sheepishly and realized he hadn’t been paying attention and had missed the conversation.

After he had finished crying on Hizashi, again, the trio of heroes had fed Harry with shepherd’s pie that had been brought up from room service when he napped. During the quick meal Shouta explained that they were headed to Diagon Alley, Gringotts specifically.

Hizashi was after a copy of Lily’s will if she had one. They were also making use of one of Gringotts’ conference rooms to meet Auntie Nem’s sister who Hizashi hoped would be their shiny new law witch on the Rooftop Agency’s payroll.

That was why Harry found himself standing on the steps of Gringotts waiting for Auntie Nem to finish lecturing Shouta and Hizashi on how to not make fools of themselves with the dwarves.

“Uh, no, Hagrid had it last year and I don’t know who he gave it back to,” Harry said with a frown.

“You look just like Shouta with that little scowl,” Auntie Nem cooed, giving his cheek a soft pinch. Harry scowled at her but felt his cheeks flush red and his ears get warm. No one had ever done that to him before. “We’ll ask the dwarves to make you a new key. You’ll want to request an audit, ‘zashi I don’t like that Harry doesn't have his key.”

“It’s on the list,” Hizashi assured her. “Are we ready to go?”

“Ready!” Nemuri said confidently. Shouta nodded blankly and Harry blinked in surprise when Hizashi turned to him and asked again if he was ready.

“Nuh huh, everyone gets a vote in the rooftop gang,” Hizashi said with a smile. “It’s what we called ourselves back in the day, dumb huh?”

Harry shook his head. “I don’t think so,” Harry told them. “I think it’s wicked. I’ve never got a vote before.”

Harry didn’t notice the sadness that raced across the trio’s faces but eventually nodded. “Let’s go.”

Auntie Nem winked and with a delicate twirl, she disappeared behind the doors leaving Harry, Hizashi, and Shouta once again to walk together. Harry in the middle and the adults on either side, safe, buffered from the world. Protected.

Was this what having parents was like?

Chapter Text

Andromeda Tonks and Aunt Nemuri looked almost identical, Harry thought, but not quite as identical as Fred and George. The younger of the women had commented it was likely all the inbreeding, which made Andromeda sigh and Harry made a note to ask Hizashi or Shouta about that later. How strange it was to Harry to have adults want him to ask questions.

Andromeda was very nice. She greeted Harry with a warm smile and he was pleased to note the woman didn’t treat Hizashi or Shouta any differently than Harry or Nemuri. The beautiful magical alley that Harry had discovered last summer looked a little dingy this time. The magic was not quite so shiny and bright. The loss of magic had everything to do with the dirty looks and the words that Harry read on their lips that they then directed at Harry’s heroes.

Gringotts was precisely as he remembered it, Harry thought, it was all white stone with dwarves everywhere. The dwarves were mostly stone-faced with well-groomed and intricate beards. Hagrid had explained to Harry to never call them goblins, that was just a name that some folks used to put them down. So Harry was happy to see the same disinterest from the dwarves in Hizashi and Shouta that they showed to everyone else.

Being so new to magic Harry had been curious about the magical race. Thankfully, Ron, Harry’s best mate, had been more than willing to teach Harry what he knew. Ron explained that his oldest brother Bill worked for the dwarves as a curse breaker which Harry thought sounded wicked. Harry and Hermione, curious about different jobs available in the magical world, found the dwarves were dominant in several other fields outside of banking in the magical world and would often sponsor witches and wizards they employed in higher education because knowledge was so important to them as a culture. Harry thought that being a curse breaker might be a cool thing to do when he grew up.

“Come on kid,” Shouta said loud enough for Harry to hear. Harry shot him a grateful grin and followed the pair down a long hallway to where Harry could only assume the Potter Account manager worked.

The office was perfectly functional. Harry thought it rather looked like what a muggle bank would look like but he couldn’t be sure. The nameplate by the door said, “Nori” in a clear easy-to-read script with the words account manager below them.

“Oh that’s sick,” Hizashi said happily. “Is the text in English for you Haz?”

Harry nodded and squinted at the text to try and see what Hizashi saw. “Is it not for you?”

“It was Japanese first and then switched to English when I thought about it,” Hizashi said excitedly. “Magic is sick, yo!”

“Magic and all of its tools are wasted on the magical community,” Shouta muttered offhand. “All this power and ability to make life better and they choose not to do anything.”

“Well said! Greetings Harry Potter, I’ve been attempting to contact you for some time now,” an older dwarf said with a grin that was more teeth than necessary that looked remarkably similar to Shouta’s scary smile. “Thank you for finally joining me.”

“I -,” Harry stuttered in shock. The sharp grin and the unfamiliar tone made Harry feel cold. Had he done something wrong?

“Why is a bank reaching out directly to a minor child,” Shouta shot back. The hero didn’t miss a step and moved to stand in front of Harry. “All communication should be through the child’s guardians.”

“And speaking of guardians,” Hizashi said just as sharply. They gave the dwarf a handful of papers that Hizashi had explained at the hotel was the emergency custody order that Shouta and Hizashi had declared their custody of Harry. “That would be us. So if you have a problem with my kid then I’d love to hear it.”

The dwarf looked over the papers and smiled again this time, not quite as sharply. “Finally, a human with a brain, step inside, we have much to speak about,” Nori said with a glint in his eye.

Harry let Hizashi guide him into the office and into a comfortable chair next to Shouta. All the while Harry was trying not to get lost in his head but Hizashi’s words kept circling back in his mind. Hizashi had called Harry “my kid”…He wished that could be true.

“What do you mean legally Harry doesn’t have a guardian?” Hizashi hissed in an attempt to keep from deafening the dwarf in front of them. “How can that be possible?”

“No one filed paperwork,” Nori repeated himself. After the initial tension Hizashi and Shouta quickly warmed up to the dwarf, never mind that Hizashi really liked his hair. Vertical styles were tough, and Present Mic only had the one giant spike, but attempting a multi-pointed style like their new dwarf friend was a plan for the future.

“The British magical community has no real child services or protections,” Nori explained. “If the child is from a non-magical family then the non-magical government handles everything. If the child is from a purely magical family then it’s handled within the family.”

“So they never have to suffer any consequences,” Hizashi spat. “So what does this mean for Harry? And why does the bank know all of this?”

“Gringotts Bank works closely with the families that bank with us, Present Mic,” Nori said sternly. All of the Dwarrow had insisted on using their hero names, even Shouta’s which considering he was firmly magic null Hizashi thought was a good indicator of the dwarf kingdom being less awful than the general magical community. “And the ministry prefers to remain hands-off when it comes to family life so Gringotts fills any gaps left by the ministry’s inaction.”

“In this case, my recommendation is to register your custody here at the bank,” Nori said. “If you’d like, Gringotts could facilitate a blood adoption, for a fee, of course, it would save you weeks in the muggle courts.”

“Back up,” Hizashi said, waving their hand. “What’s a blood adoption? Harry is biologically my nephew, what would that mean?”

“Hmm,” Nori gave Hizashi and Shouta a hard look before he turned to look at Harry for a long moment. Hizashi shot the poor kid a smile and was happy to see that one small gloved hand had a tight grip on Shouta’s capture cloth like a younger child would hold a safety blanket or toy. Harry hadn’t been with them long but he trusted them.

“Why is adoption your first response,” Shouta asked gruffly. “What does not having a guardian mean for Harry?”

The dwarf grimaced behind his impressive beard and shook his head. “There are 14 current Harry Potter fiction books in print currently, and 243 nonfiction books that reference Harry Potter or the Potter family and their deaths,” Nori said bitterly. “Despite the Potter name being plastered over everything the Potter accounts haven’t seen a sickle of profits.”

“Why are there so many books about me?” Hizashi heard Harry ask in a small voice.

“Because no one told them to stop,” Nori admitted. “Since Harry has no guardian he has no voice and the press and even everyday citizens can use his name to do whatever they want.”

“What kind of place is this?” Hizashi demanded. “Who lets people treat children like this? Aren’t there laws in this community? Protections for minors? Anything?”

“Only through the child’s guardian,” Nori said. “It is assumed that the head of the family would step up and protect children from his house, but that is not always the case. In situations like this, it’s more difficult because the person who should have been Mr. Potter’s guardian is currently in prison therefore there was no one to speak for him.”

“Let’s put a pin in that little nugget,” Hizashi said with a careless wave but their eyes were focused and furious. “We can come back to the criminal guardian later. Tell me more about the blood adoption.”

“Realistically it is the best choice,” Nori began to explain. “Functionally it’s simply a legal adoption without the safety checks and procedures made use in the wider world. With, of course, some magic involved.”

Hizashi saw Shouta grimace and agreed. No safety checks for kids going into strangers' homes? It made Hizashi feel a little nauseous that all those poor kids could end up anywhere with anyone.

“Yes,” Nori scowled. “We find the practice rather unsettling as well, should a dwarfling become orphaned among my people we ensure the pebble is placed safely. That is the only reason I am offering you this because you are registered, foster parents and heroes with exemplary records.”

“Despite what the everyday witch and wizard will tell you,” Nori continued. “Gringotts has not offered or assisted in any blood adoptions for the last 45 years. The ritual itself is important and when done properly there are side effects but as you are already blood-related to Mr. Potter it’s not likely that the effects would be overly noticeable and your partner’s physical appearance is similar enough to Mr. Potter’s that any changes might not even be noticeable.”

Hizashi felt their head spin as Nori went on to explain the side effects of the blood adoption. It was the only type of adoption that was considered valid in the British magical community, which was why there were several claims of blood adoption in the last 45 years even if they were false claims. Harry could take physical characteristics from Hizashi and Shouta but it was unlikely.

The important part was the blood adoption would protect Harry. It had only been a few days but already Hizashi knew that they would burn the world for their kid. Hizashi met Shouta’s eyes and nodded.

“Harry?” Hizashi asked gently but not quietly. Harry had his head bowed and his fingers tightly tangled in Shouta’s scarf. The blond pro hero stood from their seat and took a quick step to stand in front of Harry before sinking to their knees to be at eye level. “Come on kiddo you can look at my lips if it’s easier but I need you to answer honestly for me okay?”

Harry hesitantly drug his gaze upward and Hizashi smiled at the wet green eyes behind slightly askew glasses.

“I know this is very sudden and you haven’t even met our cat yet!” Hizashi said with a laugh. “But, kiddo, what do you say? We can find another option if we need to. Or if you need more time! It does-”

“YES!” Harry shouted and then slapped gloved hands over his mouth in shock. Hizashi was just as surprised. Despite coming from a family with voice-related quirks, Harry had been fairly quiet so this excited shout was quite the surprise. “Please… I know I’m a bother. But please don’t leave me.”

“Never,” Hizashi promised with a blinding smile and a thumbs up. “Rooftop gang for life.”

“Do you understand what adoption means?” Shouta asked. Hizashi leaned into their spouse who had moved to kneel shoulder to shoulder. Neither paid much mind to the dwarf behind them, all of their attention was on their kid.

“If you adopt me you’ll be my parents,” Harry said roughly. “And it’s forever?”

“Spot on listener!” Hizashi cheered even if the last statement was more of a question. “You’d be our kid and we’d be your guardians or parents if that’s what you want to call us. The important part is forever.”

“But you don’t know me,” Harry forced out. “We just met and you’re both heroes! Why would you want me forever?”

“Stubborn problem child,” Shouta said with such obvious affection that Hizashi choked, and Harry’s shoulders shook. “You are fighting something you obviously want. Children are rarely rational, this is why adults are in charge… just say yes if that is what you want. Do you want to do the blood adoption?”

“Yes,” Harry said firmly, just a bit too loudly for the space.

Hizashi laughed at the lightning-quick response and the small family turned to the account manager.

“Well, let’s get that adoption started, we still have a meeting with, hopefully, my new lawyer,” Hizashi said.

“Congratulations,” Nori offered sincerely. “The process is dreadfully easy, but the paperwork can be tricky. That does lead us to the most urgent question. Which one of you has the most claim to the magical world?”

“I’m magic neutral?” Hizashi offered confused. “Shou is magic null. Why does that matter?”

“The British magical community is more than a bit behind. As the most magical of the pair by law, you would be the ‘father’ on all of the documents and Eraserhead would then have to be listed as the ‘mother’. Personally, I don’t care for human notions of gender, but that does mean that you will be responsible for the Potter accounts and estates until Harry is of age. I’ll set an appointment at a later date to go over the accounts with you in detail.”

“Until then, let us begin,” Nori said solemnly. “Are any of you prone to fainting at the sight of blood? No? Wonderful, I do hate it when humans faint on my office floor. Prick your fingers, the pair of you. You may use the knife your spouse keeps tucked away at his side or I can provide one.”

Hizashi managed not to laugh at the reluctantly impressed look Shouta shot Nori when the dwarf spotted the hidden knife and didn’t seem offended that Shouta and Hizashi would use Shouta’s knife instead of the one he provided. The dwarf snapped his fingers and a small goblet of what appeared to be wine appeared on his desk.

“Clasp hands and ensure the punctures are touching and the blood can commingle,” Nori lectured. “Don’t worry about blood contaminants, the potion will take care of everything. Now let a few drops fall into the potion, and try to get mixed drops if possible. Perfect. Mr. Potter, it’s your turn.”

“I’ll do it,” Shouta told Hizashi. The blond watched their spouse talk Harry through the quick prick of his finger and then let the blood drip into the potion. Hizashi cooed when Shouta produced a small neon-colored band-aid with cat faces from his belt and wrapped it around Harry’s finger. The poor boy looked so shocked but Hizashi noticed that he didn’t complain once.

“Now you share a drink,” Nori told them. “Present Mic first, then Eraserhead, and finally Mr. Potter.”

Hizashi took a fortifying breath and shot back their part of the potion and tried not to gag at the texture. “That is disgusting,” Hizashi gagged. “I hate potions.”

“Yes, the consistency of that particular potion is rather foul,” Nori agreed. “But it does its job. Speaking of, congratulations, it’s a boy.”

Chapter Text

“Eat your jelly pouch,” Shouta demanded. “Hizashi will be out soon and then we can go meet Nemuri and her sister. You’ll feel better if you eat.”

Shouta nodded to himself when the boy eagerly took the snack and started eating. Dr. Horne’s words of caution about watching Harry’s food intake to make sure he ate enough to fuel his body and quirk. A dark part of Shouta’s mind acknowledged that Harry’s late quirk manifestation likely had something to do with the abuse and specifically the food restrictions that Harry had been under.

Dr. Horne had explained how important it was that Harry had enough calories and nutrients to fuel his body so his quirk didn’t try to take fuel from anywhere else. Before Harry hadn’t had the energy to manifest but now that it manifested it was hungry and required fuel no matter where it came from. If anyone was a candidate for spontaneous combustion it was Harry, a thought that terrified him more than had ever considered before.

This kid had legally been his son for fifteen minutes but Shouta knew if anything ever happened to him…

Harry beamed at Shouta from behind his jelly pouch and something happy curled in his chest.

He’d burn down the world.

It had been Shouta’s idea to register as foster parents once they settled into teaching at U.A. While they were both still full-time heroes, adoption hadn’t been a true thought beyond, someday, but most underground heroes were registered as foster parents in case they needed to take a child in for their protection. So it was only rational to receive their certifications, Hizashi very kindly did not tease Shouta for his eagerness to have children.

“Do you need another one or are you full enough for now?” Shouta asked curiously after Harry slurped down the last of his jelly pouch.

“Oh! I’m fine, I can wait until lunch,” Harry said shyly. It hadn’t escaped Shouta’s notice that Harry rarely asked for anything, and didn’t speak up if his needs weren’t being met.

“Take it,” Shouta told him and handed Harry another pouch. “It’s important to learn to listen to what your body needs, especially while you are learning to control your quirk. Do you remember what Dr. Horne said about how much you need to eat?”

“He said that my quirk burned a lot of energy so I’ll need to eat more,” Harry said thoughtfully. “But you’ve already given me way more than Dursley’s ever did so I don’t need more, I don’t want to be a burden.”

Shouta didn’t flinch, but only just, he was glad that Hizashi was still meeting with Nori and hadn’t heard that little truth from a too-skinny child with a powerful quirk. Shouta’s relationship with food was difficult, at best. Years of food insecurity and difficulties eating under stress made this topic full of landmines that would have once threatened to throw Shouta into memories of years long since passed, now it just made Eraserhead want to beat the ever-loving shit out Vernon and Petunia Dursley. Hizashi would have been apocalyptic.

“Come on kid, eyes up,” Shouta said gently. Harry’s eyes darted up from his ratty trainers to Shouta’s soft gaze but couldn’t meet his eyes. “I know, eye contact sucks ass just make sure you can hear me, okay?”

Shouta waited for Harry’s gaze to flicker to linger somewhere near his head and spoke as genuinely as he could.

“You are not a burden, you are a child,” Shouta said. There was no room for doubt in his voice. “It is my honor to care for you, not everyone gets the opportunity to raise children.”

“Oh,” Harry said.

Shouta heard the confusion in his voice and sighed but Hizashi’s exit from Nori’s office halted the conversation.

“Hey, family!” Hizashi greeted loudly. “Ready to go?”

“There you are!” Nemuri greeted. “I was worried you had been naughty and left without me!”

“Was that an option?” Shouta muttered. Nemuri flicked her wand in his direction like she would have with her whip if she were in costume in a threat.

Hizashi shuffled Harry forward and got him settled into a chair across from an amused Andromeda Tonks. “Hello, thanks for agreeing to meet with us - Harry, are your hands hurting you?”

“Oh, just a little sore,” Harry admitted. Hizashi saw him flush red and they winced at putting the kid in the spotlight. “I’m fine.”

Hizashi saw right through Harry’s attempt to brush off their concern. Poor kid didn’t understand how hard it was going to be to lie to his new pro hero and professional teacher parents. “If you are in pain then things are not ‘fine’,” Hizashi said firmly. “Nem, can you magic up some stuff he could ash?”

“It’s too dangerous!” Harry insisted. “What if I touch something I’m not supposed to?”

Hizashi very proudly waved their hands at Shouta who had promptly crawled into his sleeping bag and passed out face flat against the large heavy table they were all around. “Luckily we have been graced by the presence of the one and the only, Erasure Hero: Eraserhead!”

“He’s sleeping?” Harry said, not sure how true that was.

“He’s fine,” Hizashi said carelessly and gave Shouta a vicious poke. “Get up and help our kid with his quirk.”

Hizashi felt giddy calling Harry their kid, Shouta might have been the one hit hardest by baby/kid fever but that didn’t mean that Hizashi didn’t want to be a parent. Shouta grumpily wiggled himself free after peeling his face off of the table and moved to the side to help Harry ash a few trinkets that Nemuri transfigured out of ripped paper. Once Harry and Shouta were busy Hizashi dropped into a chair and buried their face in their hands.

“That bad?” Nem asked sympathetically.

“Worse,” Hizashi croaked. They shook their head and turned to Andromeda for the second time. “Sorry about that, Harry’s quirk requires a lot of monitoring and careful training, the quicker we move to address any quirk buildup the better. I know we spoke a little bit before but allow me to introduce myself properly, I’m Yamada Hizashi, also known as the Voice Hero: Present Mic! My pronouns are they/them F-Y-I.”

Hizashi ended their introduction with tired finger guns and a business smile.

Andromeda smiled and Hizashi was taken aback by how similar the sisters looked. That was Nemuri’s smile on her face and Hizashi had a good feeling about this law witch.

“Andromeda Tonks, Nemuri speaks highly of you,” Andromeda said. “I’ve seen your work, my daughter is a fan.”

“I’ll be sure to send you home with an autograph then,” Hizashi said happily. “Let’s get down to business, I’m in the market for a law witch, and from what Nemuri says you are one of the best.”

“I am the best,” Andromeda corrected them easily.

“Love the confidence,” Hizashi told her. “Nem, do you have my paperwork?”

Nemuri gracefully returned a ream of paper to its proper size and passed it over to her friend. Hizashi took a moment and pulled a stack of documents from the pile. They flipped through it, nodded to themselves, and slid the paperwork to the witch.

“That’s my standard contract with the Rooftop Agency with a little something extra for handling things on the magical side more independently than I normally have my legal team operate,” Hizashi said talking fast. Hizashi had built their agency from the ground up in the wake of Oboro’s death and Shouta’s grief. When Shouta had been forcefully pulled from his grief and misery he had signed on to Rooftop, using it as his base for his Underground Heroics and that was enough for Hizashi.

“Take a minute to check it out, and then if you agree I’d love to bring you on board,” Hizashi explained. “Nemuri says you are the best and that’s good enough for me.”

“My sister has spoken highly of you for years,” Andromeda said, her voice rich and posh in a way that Nemuri’s never really was. “I’m sure we can work something out.”

Hizashi left the woman to flip through the documents and winked cheekily at Nemuri before he popped over to check on Shouta and Harry. Harry was glowing under Shouta’s instruction, the gloves were off and a neat pile of ash sat at his feet. It was obvious that Harry was still nervous but when Hizashi met Harry’s eyes it was only excitement that was reflected at them. Hizashi sat with their husband and son while Nemuri and Andromeda went over the employment papers until Nem waved them back over to the table.

Hizashi was pleased to see a drying signature on the stack of papers and felt a sharp biting smile crawl across their face. “Let’s get down to business.”

The trio crowded around the table and Hizashi spoke. Hizashi quickly explained how they had come to Great Britain and how Harry ended up in their custody. Andromeda was furious by the Dursleys’ treatment of Harry and Hizashi took that as a sign that they hadn’t misjudged the woman. Hizashi went on to report everything Nemuri had told them about Voldemort and explained the paperwork that they had from the Hero Liaison Office and gave her even more information in the form of Dr. Horne’s reports.

“And I have to imagine that you’ve seen the Prophet?” Hizashi said angrily. At some point during the explanation,Nemuri cast the nanny charm again to keep Harry from hearing Hizashi express their everlasting displeasure with the Dursleys’ existence.

“Of course,” Andromeda said. “I assume you did not permit that to make it to print?”

“Absolutely not,” Hizashi bit out. “I’m not sure what we can do about the words of the professor herself but I absolutely want to say something to that school for allowing a teacher to speak about a student like that. My boss would kill me if I ever considered talking to a reporter about a student.”

“Albus Dumbledore is not a man to trifle with lightly,” Andromeda warned. “Unlike others in my field, I’m not afraid of butting heads with the man in the legal arena but his word carries a lot of weight.”

“Albus Dumbledore, he’s the Headmaster, right? Well, if Harry wants to stay at his school then he’ll just have to get used to me,” Hizashi said firmly. “But I’m not bending here, the British magical community treats Harry terribly - that’s another thing we need to talk about. People can just use his name and image? For free?”

Andromeda jotted down several notes as Hizashi rambled from one slight against their son to the next.

“Back to the school, I need sooo much more information about this place before I let my kid go back,” Hizashi said. “I’m not happy about how they handled his quirk manifestation and I have a lot of questions about the quality of this school. I’m sure I’ll get answers from Harry but he’s just a child. Can we arrange a meeting with the staff?”

“We can do more, would you like a tour of the castle?” Andromeda asked seriously. “Dumbledore will likely insist on a home inspection as is his right as Headmaster.”

“That’s so weird,” Hizashi muttered.

“The Headmaster of Hogwarts has always had dominion over the students,” Andromeda explained. “Legally he’s the only one that can speak for orphans or those without a strong head of house, many families practically cede all parental responsibilities of their children when school is in session. It’s not required but it’s easier for many parents.”

“Yeah we’re not doing that,” Hizashi grumbled.

“I’ll be sure to submit the correct forms for you then,” Andromeda remarked. “It’s unfortunate but many half-blood and muggle families aren’t aware that you have to actually request notices from Hogwarts beyond the bare minimum. Years ago this was protection for magical children in muggle homes but now it’s terrifying for parents and hurtful for children. My husband is muggle-born and his family suffered greatly from lack of information while he attended Hogwarts.”

“That’s messed up!” Hizashi almost shrieked. “And no one cares? Nothing gets done?”

Andromeda sighed and turned sadly to Nemuri before returning her gaze to Hizashi. “Let me provide a proper background of the wizarding world as it is now,” She said.

Hizashi listened and realized that they had heard this story before, once, from Nemuri’s point of view. Andromeda told them about the war with the villain Lord Voldemort and how many people died during his reign of terror. Hizashi learned about the Death Eaters and their cruelty. Andromeda explained that everything looked lost until that Halloween when the Potters died and Harry somehow stopped the madman. Then it got worse.

The politics of the British magical community was completely corrupt.

So-called ‘purebloods’ ran everything with ‘half-bloods’ (man that sure sounded like a slur to Hizashi the first time they heard it) and a few lucky ‘muggle-borns’ fighting for the scraps. There was little to no oversight for any part of the ministry and Hizashi wasn’t sure how the elections worked even after Andromeda explained the process twice.

When Andromeda finished, Hizashi groaned and tried to sink into their chair. “This is wack!” Hizashi whined. “I’m so tempted to take Harry and run.”

“Do it,” Nemuri urged. “You know how everyone feels about quirks and Harry’s quirk is only going to get stronger and you know what that means. They’ll tear him apart.”

“It’s not going to be easy,” Andromeda cautioned. “Harry Potter is an important figure and more than that he has a vested interest in the wizarding world. I’m sure the Dwarrow explained the Potter estate?”

“I’ve got two more meetings scheduled with Nori to go over everything in detail,” Hizashi told her. “I’m so glad the Potters weren’t part of that Sacred 28 or whatever, I’d hate to have to manage that on top of everything else.”

“Harry Potter is currently in the running for the heirship of the House of Black,” Andromeda viciously corrected Hizashi. “He’s eligible to petition for the heirship when he turns 15. Beyond that, as the Boy-Who-Lived he’s practically a national treasure.”

“He’s a child,” Nemuri interrupted her sister angrily. “And you all say Boy-Who-Lived like it’s his hero name, he’s not a hero he’s a kid.”

“I know that you and you both know that but the world doesn’t care,” Andromeda told them coldly. “The public is entitled and spoiled. The ministry does its best to keep everyone in the dark and happy so letting one of the only heroes the wizarding world has ever seen getaway isn’t likely to happen.”

“Then that’s our goal,” Hizashi said. “I want to be ready to leave with Harry for good at a moment's notice. Is that something you can do?”

Andromeda paused and looked through the notes she had taken and gracefully tucked away her long feathered quill. The witch had an excellent poker face so Hizashi honestly had no idea what she would say until her eyes softened for a brief moment.

“If it can be done I’ll do it,” Andromeda promised. “Secondarily I’ll begin owling out cease and desist letters to everyone using’s Harry and the Potter’s likeness without permission. Are you sure the muggles will handle the Dursleys properly? I could always petition to have them thrown in Azkaban.”

Hizashi waved her off and she continued almost grumpily.

“If you’re sure,” Andromeda said. “I’ll reach out to Hogwarts for a parent meeting and ensure we have all the required paperwork for however you chose to move forward.”

“You’re amazing,” Hizashi praised. “Shouta and I need to get home as quickly as possible, we really can’t be away from our hero jobs for too long and I don’t like Harry being here with everything going on. So the sooner the better, yeah?”

“If I can’t get an appointment set within the next two days I’ll buy your portkey back and forth,” Andromeda promised viciously. Hizashi knew better than to stop someone from challenging themselves and just let it go. “If there’s nothing else? Nymphadora would be very cross with me if I let you get away without an autograph.”

Hizashi laughed and agreed. “For sure! But first, come meet Harry properly you’ll love him he’s great.”

Andromeda smiled indulgently and let Hizashi babble about Harry. Hizashi knew there was still much work to be done but they had plans, they had a law witch, and they had some of the best support a person could have. Hizashi continued to brag about their new son even after Harry and Shouta rejoined the table much to Harry’s embarrassment but Hizashi refused to be silenced, no one could stop the Voice Hero from bragging about their kid.

Chapter Text

The hotel room was utterly trashed. Clothing was scattered everywhere, hair care products created a path from the sink to various locations around the room, and somehow, the contents of Harry’s trunk (sans the most obvious magical items) were also littered around the room.

“Everyone packed?” Hizashi asked, almost jumping in place.

Harry felt equally excited; after the last few days of chaos and excitement, they were taking a day to relax, and their first stop was the London Zoo. Harry had only been to the zoo a few times, his favorite being the trip for Dudley’s birthday the previous year. Harry had ice cream that day, and Dudley had gotten trapped in the boa constrictor exhibit. So when Hizashi asked what Harry wanted to do on their free day, he mentioned his previous visit.

“Yes!” Harry said. Shouta groaned from his sleeping bag on the floor, but Hizashi ignored him.

“All right!” Hizashi shouted excitedly. “Let’s go! Nem is going to meet us around lunchtime.”

Harry saw them glance down at their phone and wasn’t surprised to be quickly ushered downstairs to the hotel lobby because their taxi had arrived. Harry was packed into the middle seat between his two new guardians, the casual contact still throwing Harry through a loop because the Dursleys had gone out of their way to avoid even brushing up against him.

“This is so exciting!” Hizashi said happily. “Our first outing as a family! We have to get T-shirts. Or hats! Do you like hats, Harry?”

Harry tried to ignore the happy feeling bubbling in his chest when Hizashi said they were a family and tried to answer the question about hats.

“As long as it’s not pointy,” Harry said almost without thinking. Thankfully, the taxi driver didn’t notice anything too unusual. “Hog- uh, my school’s formal uniform has a pointy hat, and I don’t like it.”

Hizashi laughed loudly, and even Shouta huffed a soft laugh. Harry felt his ears burn in embarrassment, but the laughter wasn’t mocking, so he tried to let it roll over him.

“No pointy hats,” Hizashi agreed. “I think T-shirts would be better anyway. Shouta isn’t a fan of hats. They can mess with his vision if they are too loose.”

“You know why that’s a liability in our line of work,” Shouta grumbled. “You don’t like hats either because you can’t do your hair if you wear a hat. Why would we get hats?”

Harry let the play argument wash over him and pipped up when Hizashi playfully pulled him in, but before Harry knew it, the taxi stopped. The small family crawled out of the cab. Harry saw Shouta pay the driver before he turned to follow Hizashi to the ticket stall.

“Hey! I need the tickets set aside for Hizashi Yamada. It should be two adults and one child,” Hizashi chirped. “We got the hero and hero support discount bundle?”

Harry let the conversation drift over him and instead turned to look for Shouta, who was approaching them. It was strange to return to the zoo, but the situation differed from his last visit. Instead of trailing behind his relatives, sneaking looks, and trying not to draw attention to himself, Hizashi cheerfully tugged Shouta and Harry into the gift shop (“We need matching shirts!”) and quickly found the gaudiest family shirts that Harry had ever seen.

Harry couldn’t stop grinning at his new shirt. Something that might have been embarrassment burned at his cheeks and the tips of his ears, but watching Hizashi force Shouta into the matching parent shirt was worth it.

The trio was now properly outfitted into a set of shirts that proudly proclaimed “Zoo Crew” on the front with a cute family of lions and on the backup top around the shoulders like an American football jersey had various titles across the back. Harry’s shirt said rather plainly, “Lion Cub,” Shouta’s shirt had a cute, sleepy-looking mother lion and “Mummy Lion” on the back. Hizashi had taken one of the shirts with a color defect that made the male lion’s mane bright yellow instead of a cartoonish red and “Daddy Lion” across the back.

“Alright, family! Let's go see some zoo animals!” Hizashi cried loudly. Harry cheered and thrust his gloved fist into the air, imitating his new guardian. “Check it out, little listener! The map says the reptile house is closest! Do we want to start there?”

“Yes!” Harry shouted. He had loved the reptile house the last time he had visited. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t even disappear the glass from the exhibit, but something told him even if he did, Hizashi would laugh.

“I really like snakes,” Harry told Shouta. “There were always a few in Aunt Petunia’s garden, especially in the compost in the back.”

The trio had already looked at all the amphibians, and the snakes were next. Shouta was surprised to see how animated Harry became when discussing snakes. His young nephew was unsurprisingly tight-lipped about his likes and dislikes, so having the tween basically info dump like any other excited child warmed a deep, dark part of Shouta’s heart. From the broad smile on Hizashi’s face, Shouta knew his spouse felt the same.

“Oh look, they have a new boa constrictor!” Harry said eagerly. Gloved hands eagerly took Hizashi and Shouta’s hands and pulled forward. “They had one last year too, but it escaped…”

“Escaped?” Hizashi asked curiously. “How did that happen?”

Shouta watched Harry flush red and duck his head. Whatever the boy mumbled, it was beyond Hizashi’s hearing, and Shouta more guessed than heard. “The M word?” Shouta asked, obviously giving cover for the mumbled ‘magic.’

“Yeah!” Harry agreed quickly. “Dudley shoved me, and the glass disappeared.”

Shouta’s eyebrows shot up, and Harry continued.

“Dudley fell in, but the snake crawled out,” Harry told them. “I don’t know if they caught him. This says this one is a girl.”

Shouta let his mind wander a bit as Harry spoke more about the boa constrictor but paid enough attention that if Harry said something to him, he wouldn’t be lost. The trip to the zoo was turning out to be a welcome distraction. Harry was blossoming before their very eyes.

The kid was smart and spoke with confidence when the topic was one he was familiar with. Shouta could see the hesitation in his physical form anytime he had to touch something with his hands, but Harry was brave and pushed past the reluctance. Interactions like this made Shouta believe that Harry would be alright.

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Harry greeted the snake through the glass. Shouta smiled at the childish innocence of talking to the snake. It was nice to see Harry acting young for once -

Was Harry hissing?

Shouta managed not to jerk around to face his kid in shock. Next to him, Hizashi jerked around to face Harry. “Hey there, Little Listener, is that you hissing?” Hizashi asked, concerned. Hissing or snake-like mutation would be a very confusing secondary quirk for Harry to develop suddenly.

Harry blinked in surprise and jerked back to look at Hizashi. “Hissing? I was just talking to the snake,” Harry said.

“Well, you were saying something, kiddo,” Hizashi agreed. “But to us, it sure sounded like hissing.”

Shouta watched Harry wilt before them, and he almost jumped forward to keep his kid from being upset. “Is this an ‘m word’ ability or a new quirk manifestation?”

“It can’t be part of his quirk,” Hizashi said quickly. “Dr. Horne did extensive testing. They would have found it then.”

“It happened last year right before I got my school letter,” Harry admitted quietly. "Before my quirk came in."

Gently, Hizashi shoulder-bumped Harry and grinned. “Well, we can ask Nem when she shows up for lunch. It’ll be okay,” Hizashi told Harry.

“Maybe it’s just an ‘M word’ thing,” Harry said hopefully. “Can Auntie Nem talk to snakes?”

“I…I don’t know,” Hizashi admitted. “She’s never said she could, but…”

Shouta knew that Hizashi was thinking of how reluctant Nemuri was regarding her history with the magical community. It was possible that talking to snakes was common, and Nemuri didn’t want to mention it, but Shouta worried it was something not so innocuous. Shouta mentally vowed to talk to Hizashi about it the moment he could.

For now, Shouta allowed Harry to continue to chat with the snake and relay the strange conversation between a boy and a boa constrictor.

“My husband is so hot,” Hizashi said dreamily. Shouta talked gently with Harry, helping their son feed the friendly and curious barnyard animals that made up the Farmyard exhibit at the zoo. Harry had been nervous about touching the animals, but Hizashi and Shouta wanted to tackle the fear of touching things before it worsened.

Shouta gently led their boy to the food and helped him find the courage to trust his support gear and trust his new father. Hizashi had felt their heart soar when Harry giggled at a friendly goat and carefully let his gloved hand brush the coarse fur.

“Fatherhood is a good look on him,” Nemuri agreed with a soft smile. The female pro hero had joined the trio for lunch and had been greeted with a slightly too loud but genuinely excited shout of “Aunt Nem,” likely at Hizashi’s urging, that made her smile. Her smile only lasted momentarily before she shifted the conversation back to the story Hizashi had been telling.

“Back on track ‘zashi - What happened at the reptile house?” Nemuri asked.

“Harry can speak to snakes,” Hizashi told her. “He said he did it for the first time last year; he spoke to a snake in one of the exhibits. Harry thinks this is just a magical power, but it’s not. Is it?”

Nemuri sighed and shook her head. “No, Parseltongue is a rare gift tied to a specific family. As far as I know, this gift has only been seen in families from the legendary Slytherin line. I don’t remember everything my parents tried to teach me about pureblood family trees, but I know the Potters were not related to the House of Slytherin, at least not close enough to manifest a bloodline gift.”

“I’m waiting to hear back from Dr. Horne,” Hizashi said. “I asked if it could be a secondary quirk, but I saw him speak to the snakes in the exhibit. One of the snakes winked. Snakes don’t have eyelids!”

“Magic,” Nemuri agreed. “It has to be. It’s the only way the snake could be affected like that.”

“I need to see the Potter family tree,” Hizashi muttered. They quickly texted Andromeda; thankfully, the woman knew how to use a cell phone, unlike most of the magical community.

“Hizashi, look!”

Hizashi tore their gaze away from their phone and over to their excited child. Harry was practically bouncing in place and pointed excitedly at a small goat. Hizashi and the goat made eye contact for a moment until …

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

The goat screamed, and Hizashi felt a laugh build but managed to force it back enough to meet Harry’s proud face.

“It’s you!” Harry cried happily. “He screams like you!”

Hizashi saw Shouta double over, laughing his ugly laugh with the too-wide smile ringing out through the zoo. The smile that Hizashi rarely saw and the laughter they rarely heard. All because their kid compared them to a goat. With the bright smile on Harry’s face and their husband’s echoing laughter, Hizashi could only grin and agree.

“You’re right, Haz. He sounds just like me!” Hizashi agreed through laughter. Beside them, a bright flash let them know Nemuri was using the camera and snapped a great picture of a grinning Harry and a laughing Shouta with the screaming goat between them.

“He’s out cold,” Hizashi told Shouta. Shouta had the eleven-year-old draped across his back, soft snores and easy breaths gently moving the loose strands of Shouta’s hair. “Are you okay to carry him?”

“Of course,” Shouta said simply. He ignored his partner, rolling their eyes, and focused on settling the child on his back. Hizashi smiled appreciatively at Shouta’s strength, their husband rolled his eyes but didn’t comment.

“We could always take the Knight Bus,” Nemuri said softly. “Or call a cab.”

“It’s not a long walk,” Shouta said, shooting down their ideas.

“Show off,” Hizashi muttered playfully. Shouta just gave them a deadpan gaze and started walking back to the hotel.

The small family had left the zoo many hours ago and returned to the hotel. Harry had been loaded with zoo plushies and even another T-shirt with the small family printed on the front and “Our Zoo Adventure” above it.

After decompressing for a few hours, the snacks were no longer enough for Harry’s new quirk-fueled metabolism, and dinner was a must. They chose a tiny hole-in-the-wall place Nemuri had found on the internet on a “must visit” list. Harry had been nodding off the entire meal, so it was no shock that when Shouta offered the sleepy child a piggyback ride, he immediately fell asleep.

“My sister messaged me during dinner,” Nemuri told her friends as they walked. The three pro heroes easily kept pace with each other; even Shouta having a sleeping pre-teen on his back didn’t hinder his stride. Hizashi had their arms laced behind their head, but Nemuri could see their interest in her words. “Dumbledore finally got back to her, last minute, of course. You both have been invited to visit Hogwarts as the guardians of a student tomorrow afternoon.”

“That’s a specific distinction,” Shouta remarked. “Guardians of a student.”

“It is,” Nemuri said, unintentionally vague. “I’ll watch Harry. Students aren’t allowed at the school over the summer.”

“Good,” Hizashi said grimly. “It will be better for Harry not to attend this meeting. We don’t need him getting upset if things don’t go well.”

Hizashi didn’t have to say that none of them wanted Harry to remain at Hogwarts, but they all knew Harry didn’t have that same hesitation. “Do you think Andromeda would be available for a conference in the morning? I’d like to prep some questions with her,” Hizashi said thoughtfully.
“We’re getting breakfast in the morning,” Nemuri told Hizashi. “But I wouldn’t mind if you all came along. I’ll warn her about the extra guests.”

“You’re a queen among women,” Hizashi told her truthfully. Shouta groaned softly at their interaction, but the other two ignored him. “A beauty we don’t deserve.”

“You know it,” Nemuri teased. She reached out and gave Hizashi’s ponytail a light tug. “So what will you do if Harry can’t return to Hogwarts?”

The couple walked in silence for a while, both knowing the answer but unwilling to be the one to say it. Finally, Shouta spoke up. His voice was soft and firm, not to wake the sleeping child on his back.

“If it’s not safe, he’s not going back,” Shouta said finally. “I’m already not fond of how the magical community has treated him, and I’m worried the school will only get worse.”

“Yeah,” Hizashi said. They momentarily let their gaze fall on the sleeping kid before they pulled the door open for Shouta. They had finally reached the hotel. Nemuri stood off to the side, ready to say goodbye to her friends. “We have to do what’s best for Harry. Even if he doesn’t like it.”

“Good,” Nemuri said with a smile. Carefully, she reached up, brushed Harry’s hair out of his face, and plucked the crooked glasses off the tip of his nose. She handed them off to Hizashi with a smile. “He deserves some like you two in his corner. See you in the morning!”

Hizashi and Shouta said their goodbyes and returned to their room. Today had been fantastic, Hizashi thought. They had made so many memories in just a few short hours, and Hizashi couldn’t believe how much their life had changed in such a short time. And they knew that the changes had only just begun.