Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Harry and Harley, Chapters 3 and 4 By Rihaan Shimomura

   I don't recommend reading the story in this format, as it doesn't have
italics or bolds or anything else I may try to add to the story format.  I
recommend going to
http://www.asstr.org/files/Authors/Rihaan_Shimomura/Stories/HandH/ to read
this.  But hey, if you want to read it this way, that's your prerogative.

   Chapter 3: Teen Spirit

   /She blew a breath into the air, something that always relaxed her. 
Maybe it reminded her of when her mother smoked cigarettes and felt calm
immediately afterwards, but it always helped./

   /Now...  it was helping.  Probably./

   /At least at this point, she could see that she was blowing this out of
proportion, and she certainly couldn't kick Harley out for this
indiscretion./ /She stood up, her bare feet sliding against the bare floor
as she slid away from the door, and swiftly opened it./

   She winced at the sound that immediately hit her, and her heart ached.
To hear her girlfriend cry, knowing that it was her fault, cut deep inside
Ivy, making her pause.

   She made a promise to herself, right then and there, that she would
never make her Harley cry again.

   To be angry at her for such a trivial little thing was ludicrous to
begin with.  Her Harley was bi-curious, and she just couldn't let that go?
She let a guy kiss her, and she enjoyed it.  Hardly a handjob, was it?

   She knew, deep down, if she didn't have such a heated hatred for men,
that she wouldn't have gotten into such a fit.

   She leaned against the corner of the short hallway, knowing that her
girl was just out of her view, blaming herself for everything.

   Tears pricked at her eyes.  She didn't deserve such a beautiful, sweet
girl.  It was an ironic thought, having blamed Harley's teenage hormones
and naivety earlier, and yet she herself was the hard-headed, immature one.

   She blinked her tears away, and pushed herself from the wall.  Her bare
feet padded across the threshold into the room.

   She shuddered as a chill rushed past her.  She felt it seep into her
very bones, and she felt cold.  She wrapped her hands around herself, and
wished she had something more than her dress shirt as clothing.

   Her brow furrowed - the temperature in her greenhouse was always at a
set, warm temperature.

   More importantly, she had never once been cold since the incident that
turned her into what she was today.

   Her eyes narrowed.  Something unnatural was happening.  It was far
beyond a sixth sense.  She knew that whatever that was that affected her
was not a feeling of foreboding, like a small chill up her spine.  Someone
did that to warn her of their presence.

   Or so she thought.  She didn't see the almost imperceptible shimmer as
the shield charm was erected behind her.

   '/Forgive me, Harleen,/' she pleaded silently, before she slowly stepped
backwards, intent on waiting until the presence showed him or herself. 
'/Himself./'

   She felt a paralyzing shock, and she fell to the ground.  Her head
conveniently - too conveniently for her tastes - hit the threshold of the
hallway and the kitchen.

   For a few, painful seconds, Pamela was forced to watch Harley bawl her
eyes out, periodically whispering apologies to the paralyzed woman, mere
meters away from her.

   She tried to move her fingers, and cursed herself when she couldn't. 
/'Harley!'/ She mentally screamed, her wild eyes pulsing with light, the
nutrients in her veins working fast to bring her dead limbs back to life.

   And then, a figure appeared out of nowhere, and Pamela was paralyzed
once again, in shock.

   She knew it was him.  It had to be him.  It couldn't have been anyone
but him.

   Had she had any control over her body, she would be trembling at the
sight, with rage or fear - he certainly didn't look like a mere kid as he
leaned against the counter, his dress shirt torn on his frame, his lightly
tanned skin smudged with dirt.  His lean body was still, conveying a
relaxed confidence, as if he knew that all of his obstacles were out of his
way.

   There were no obstructions to his eyes, and from the side, she saw a
shade of green that she had never seen before, except in the mirror.  They
curiously roamed her girlfriend, and she would have grit her teeth in
anger.

   Her body stiff as a board, she was forced to take in the scene for a few
minutes.  Neither moved.  He never once moved a muscle, and she didn't look
up from her hands.

   Then - for a glorious, wonderful second - she looked up.

   Directly at her.

   And then she looked away to wipe the tears that were clouding her eyes.

   And then she saw /him/.

   ------------------------

   Ivy stopped her story, her head resting leisurely on Harry's chest. 
"What did you do to me, anyway?"

   It took a few seconds for him to concentrate on what she meant -
Harley's light breathing in his ear was a pleasant distraction.  "I don't
really know.  I put up a shield to protect me from the vines.  You're just
supposed to hit it and bounce off.  Maybe it reacted strangely to non-magic
users.  Where I come from, we tend to use our powers strictly on each
other.."

   Pamela bit her bottom lip in concentration, her studious eyes pondering.
"It could have been my DNA.  I'm not exactly like everyone else."

   Harry shrugged, mindful that the beautiful green-skinned woman had her
head on his pectoral.  "I wouldn't know.  From what I've seen of this place
so far...  I wouldn't know what's normal and what's not."

   "Any chance of telling us where you're from, exactly?" Ivy queried, her
hand grazing over his hard stomach, her fingertips dancing across his
sweat-glazed skin.

   He closed his eyes at the wondrous feeling.  He wasn't very ticklish,
but her touch gave him a special tingle that he loved.  "When Harley wakes
up, I'll tell you both everything...  I promise."

   "I'll keep you to that...  Harry," she muttered, very aware of the
notion that his name had never escaped her lips before, and considering
what her lips were closed around earlier, would probably leave room for
concern, later.

   Harry must've picked up on her thoughts.  "So what made your attitude
change?"

   Pamela sighed, her breath making the sparse hairs on his stomach stand
up.  "You sound like you don't know.  I can feel your heartbeat, and you
truly don't know." She closed her eyes.  "So at this point, I /really/
don't fucking know."

   "Harley said something about my powers doing this to her.  So I guess
you thought the same?" He didn't wait for a response.  "So am I just that
unappealing or something?  Or did you two comically just fall for me, as if
it's an impossible circumstance otherwise?" Harry tried not to sound too
agitated, but Ivy could feel the slight increase in his heart rate.

   The thump was almost a painful reminder in her, as that slight increase
that conveyed his anger confirmed it - he had nothing to do with their
reaction to him.  They acted like needy /whores/ toward him, and he, like
any straight male, took the opportunity presented to him.

   She slid her head off his chest and sidled up to his side, wrapping her
hands around Harry's arm.  She chose her next words carefully.  "You don't
understand..." she started slowly.  "I...  hate men.  And Harley has a
/lot/ more self-control than that.  There have been plenty of men who have
approached us, and we deal with them accordingly.  Not once did we ever
consider...  this."

   Harry released a breath, staring up at the ceiling.  "Sorry.  I'm just
not used to being wanted and rejected at the same time." His eyebrows
furrowed, not noticing her slight guilty look.  "I know someone like you.
She hated men too.  She reacted even more violently when her girlfriend
asked me to the b...  err, prom."

   She tilted her head up towards him.  "And?  What happened?"

   If all of his blood hadn't travelled elsewhere a few minutes earlier, he
would have blushed at the memory.  "She was...  understandably pissed.  I
didn't even know they were dating.  I already had a date anyway, so we all
just let it go.  The day after the ball, she apologized, and said that...
well, her girlfriend, Cho, had a crush on me for the longest time, ever
since we played each other in a sport my school has in the finals two years
ago.  She said that, at the least, they could still all be friends." Harry
chuckled.  "What I didn't know at the time was she was attracted to my
girlfriend.  It was the day after the ball, and she surprised almost
everyone that night by how she looked." He smiled at the fond memory - he
had never seen a girl so beautiful at that point.  "We've all been friends
ever since."

   Pamela raised a beautifully arched eyebrow.  "And what of the jealous
girlfriend?  Did she ever get a taste of yours?"

   "A bloke never tells," Harry said sagely, his eyes twinkling.

   "That means he porked her," a voice murmured, making Ivy jump, and Harry
grin embarrassingly.  "All three.  At once.  Can we all go to sleep now?"

   "Harley...  how long were you awake?" Pam queried nervously.

   She cuddled up to Harry's arm a little more.  "I woke up in the middle
of my orgasm.  And I haven't gotten a bit of sleep since."

   Harry furrowed his brows, while Ivy flushed in embarrassment.  "Did I
miss something?"

   "Remember when you woke up in her mouth?  She did it to me first.  But I
wanted to see how far she would go.  It was really hot." She purred a
little, and wiggled her body against his arm, placing her hand on his
chest, incidentally over Ivy's.  They both felt a shock at the touch, and
after a few moments of indecision, calmed, their hands gently caressing
together.

   Harry's chest rumbled beneath their fingers.  "I'm glad you two found
some common ground and got back together."

   Ivy raised an eyebrow.  He was the one that broke them up, and she had
no idea how he got them 'back together', as he put it, but it was not the
time to discuss it.  "We'll talk about this in the morning."

   "Ditto," Harleen muttered against Harry's shoulder, her eyes fluttering
shut.

   Harry had a smirk on his face as he fell asleep, as his arms rested in
the bosoms of the most beautiful villains in the world.

   Sometimes, it sucked to be Harry Potter.  This was not one of those
times.

   ------------------------

   Harleen's fingers tapped against the table, setting her mug of coffee
down.  "I see."

   Pamela stopped fidgeting and grimaced.  "This isn't funny, Harley."

   The blonde smiled a mischievous smile.  "It is, Pammy.  It totally is."

   Pamela sighed and leaned back.  In hindsight, it would be absolutely
hilarious.

   She had finished her story, and Harley mimicked her actions from last
night.  It was pretty much the same situation, except for the fact that
while Harley had no control over what happened to her when she first met
Harry, Ivy had complete control over her own body the entire time she... 
raped them, really.

   "Let's look at this retrospectively." Harley grinned.  "I ran into a
cute guy with a bondage fetish.  He kissed me, and I liked it.  I come to
my most favorite hideout, and as it turns out, he followed me.  I'm not
sure if he was curious or he couldn't get enough, but he didn't attack
either of us until I struck first.  Everything was pretty consensual.  He
practically asked for permission when we," she hmmed to herself, "knocked
boots, I guess."

   Pamela rested her chin in her hands, remembering the entire buildup to
their consummation, but not really sure how she felt about it.  "Yes, I
vaguely remember you giving him an offer to 'Ride the Harley'."

   The green/redhead glared at her.  "Right, because I was /single/ and
interested, and so was he."

   "And we're sure about that?  About him being single?"

   Harley shrugged carelessly.  "If he isn't, then she's a lucky one,
whoever she is." She looked ponderous.  "It's weird, too; he showed up out
of nowhere.  Right in the middle of the street.  He could be an alien or
something.  Friendliest alien I've ever met."

   "Do you think there are more people who have his...  power?"

   Harley shook his head.  "A few, maybe.  But not many.  And they don't
seem to know where he is, and he doesn't seem to be in a hurry to contact
them.  I've been listening to his slip-ups.  He seems to come from a
society that has that power, but it's a minority.  Sexy British accent,
too." She sighed, and Pamela twitched.  Harley noticed.  "Not that your
accent isn't sexy too, Red.  Harley's voice isn't the best to hear."

   Pam allowed herself a smirk.  She had slowly gotten rid of Harley's New
York accent when she had taken her under her wing, but insisted that
Harleen used it when she donned the pigtails and lycra suit.  It gave her
an entirely different personality, especially when she had to go to school
the next day as mild-mannered schoolgirl, Harleen Quinzel.

   Harley released her mug and ran her fingers through her wet, blonde
hair. "I guess it's not too late to say 'I'm sorry Red,' is it?"

   Poison Ivy smiled.  "I could never be angry at you for long, Harley. 
You have that effect on me.  The real problem is Harry.  What do we do with
him?"

   "Ooh, can we keep him?"

   Pam smirked, amused.  "I don't think we can keep a human, Harley."

   "But he doesn't have anywhere else to go!  Maybe that's why he followed
me, because he was just a lost kid, looking for a place to live!  Please,
Red!  I'll feed him, and water him, and we'll have fun together all day!"
She brought her hands together in a pleading motion.

   Pam snorted.  "That's an understatement." She thought to herself, and
sighed.  "That reminds me..."

   Harley raised her eyebrow.  "What?"

   ------------------------

   Harry shuddered as the hot water splashed over his tense muscles.  He
closed his eyes, holding his messy hair under the steady, steaming stream.
He scrubbed his face of the grime and sweat that he had accumulated over
the past twenty-four hours, and freshened himself up for what was likely to
come.

   He knew that the moment he stepped out of the shower, he was going to
have to fight his way out.

   When they each woke up, half-an-hour ago, they came to a silent
agreement - they would talk about what happened after they all took a long,
very needed shower.  Harry, his eyes closed out of respect, spelled a towel
around their lean bodies, and both girls were so shocked by the sudden
appearance that they jumped out of them.  Pamela quickly picked up the
towel, while Harley, after glancing at Harry, just gave the blushing boy a
one-armed hug and thanked him for the towel.  She parted and glanced at
Pamela awkwardly, noting the prolonged stare the green-eyed girl cast at
the green-eyed boy, and after picking up her towel, walked off to take her
shower alone.

   "You have twenty seconds to explain yourself," she told him in a
no-nonsense fashion as soon as she heard the door close.

   Harry opened his eyes, and his eyes strayed from Pamela's busty form
embarrassingly.  She raised an eyebrow at his modesty, and filed it away.
"I saw a beautiful girl who was about to attack me with a sledge - sorry,
/mallet/ - so I bound her with ropes.  After she threatened to kill me, I
tried my best to distract her before I could get away.  And if it didn't
work, well, it would have been worth it."

   "And you didn't just run away?"

   Harry shook his head vehemently.  "I don't know this neighborhood very
well, but I don't picture the next person walking across a tied up girl in
the middle of the night to have the purest of intentions.  And while I
could have untied her from a distance, I wasn't sure if she had a gun.  I
mean - she did have several police cars chasing after her."

   Pamela looked surprised.  "She did?"

   Harry blinked.  "Uh, I wasn't supposed to tell you that, was I?"

   Ivy shook her head.  "No, no...  it just surprised me.  She usually
embellishes her heists.  How many cars were chasing after her?"

   "Five, I think," Harry said slowly, feeling awkward.  He had only been
there for the few minutes of conversation they had, and not once did either
girl imply that Ivy was in the same business as Harley.  He had really only
assumed because of the green skin and the menacing-looking vines
surrounding them.  He figured that was evidence enough.

   Ivy contemplated what to do next.  "Okay.  Fine.  When Harley gets out
of the shower, it's your turn; and not a moment sooner.  Then we'll have
another discussion of what to do with you."

   Harry refrained from asking if he could take a head start when they make
their decision.

   He scrubbed at his hair with the natural aloe oils he had found in the
shower stall, and marveled at how silky and squeaky clean his hair was
starting to feel between his fingers.  a He breathed a sigh of
satisfaction. Of all the things that Harry James Potter had accomplished in
his life - and it was quite a few, and quite important - this seemed to be
a fitting end.

   He had never found Sirius, but he was sure the old dog was somewhere,
enjoying his life and avoiding the hell that was Grimmauld Place.  He had
escaped the eyes of the Ministry and Dementors for three years; he would be
found if he wanted to be, to escape the perils of parenthood.

   He frowned.  He would have to send a message to Hermione, though.  He
didn't want to sound haughty, but he had a feeling that she would be
missing him about now.

   And Luna.  Probably Susan and Daphne.  And the Patils.  Tonks.  Andy. 
Cho.  Marietta.  Hannah.  His Quidditch team.  He supposed someone had told
Fleur, Gabrielle, and Appolline he was missing.  Lavender.  Sue.  Rosmerta.
Pet.  Bitch.  Narcissa.

   He scoffed at the thought.  He probably shouldn't have taunted Lucius
with that little fact as he held the prophesy orb in his hand, the smoky
ball of pale light creating an eerie shadow as he recounted their first
time together at the Quidditch World Cup, in the Minister's box with Amelia
Bones.

   Still, it got the reaction he wanted.  Lucius cast the first spell, and
he ducked it easily, destroying the shelf behind him.  The small group
scattered, and the damn-near vigilante group, the 'Fearsome Phoenix,' had
the upper hand at that point in the confusion.

   And now, somehow, he found himself...  here.

   He bodily shook himself out of his stupor.  He got himself into this, he
was going to get himself out.

   And if he didn't, Hermione would find a way to revive him back to life,
only to give him an earful and kill him again.

   His fingers fumbled with the ring on his other hand; well, at least he
didn't make it/ too/ easy on her by leaving it at Hogwarts.

   Harry's ears twitched, and again, out of instinct, he jabbed his hand in
the direction the sound came from, his feet firmly planted to the sandstone
floor.

   Harleen and Pamela stood at the doorway, their eyes not nearly as modest
as Harry's had been earlier.  While Harley seemed fascinated by the gentle
swaying motion of his large flaccid dick with his sudden movement, Pamela's
eyes were locked firmly on his.

   Harry felt a chill up his spine every time he looked into her eyes.  It
was a sense of familiarity that he was sure was unnatural, and it seemed to
be a challenge for the redhead now to see who would look away first.

   Harry slowly moved up his hand to smooth back his wet hair and moved
back from the spray.  "Have I been here too long?  Or are these my last
words?"

   Harley giggled cutely, her sky blue eyes now focused on the teen's face.
"Aw, isn't that cute?  Doubts of self-worth and abandonment issues!" She
turned to her older girlfriend.  "See, Pammy?  He's /damaged/!  He needs
minders!  Can't we keep him?  Pwease?"

   "Speak like an adult, Harleen," Ivy muttered sensibly, and rolled her
eyes at her blond companion's pout.  "I have a few more questions to ask
you."

   Harry raised an eyebrow.  Pamela crossed her arms.  Harley's eyes
strayed back to his swinging schlong.

   Finally, he sighed, and stepped back into the steaming shower.  He used
the essences left on his hands to scrub at his arms.

   Ivy, her cheeks red, spoke with a steady tone.  "Why did you follow my
girlfriend home?"

   Harry spoke immediately.  "Where I come from, innocent people don't get
chased by police cars.  Even if they do, I wasn't going to let her go home
by herself, mallet or not."

   Harley looked disappointed at the answer - either that, or she was
disappointed that he turned away from her.  "/Hmph!/ I thought you were
having naughty thoughts about taking advantage of me when I was alone and
vulnerable."

   "The thought crossed my mind," Harry muttered over the shower, and he
glanced at Pamela tensing.  "But while I was raised like shit, I have
/morals/, and I've been told I'm a good kid.  Had you not broken up in
front of me, whatever chastity remained of you would have been safe around
me." Harry smiled softly at Harley, who smiled shyly back.  "You remind me
of a girl I knew back home."

   Pamela eyed him suspiciously.  "Another one?"

   Harry nodded unabashedly.  "Luna.  Very quirky.  Blonde, too.  I imagine
you two would be great friends.  She's always looking for more friends."

   Ivy blinked at the sincerity - the absolute /fondness/ - in his voice,
even over the sounds of the showerhead.  Almost like he actually /cared/
about the person he was talking about, and not another conquest.

   Her concept about men was no different.  And, hours ago, she would have
said with a certainty that it never would change.  But she was beginning to
get a very /human/ perception of Harry James Potter.

   She cleared her throat.  "Okay, so that explains why you followed her
here.  Why did you come inside?"

   Harry gave her a blank look.  "She walked into a pit of vines.  Of
/course/ I was curious."

   Harleen perked up.  "Oh!  That reminds me!  Why didn't Ivy's vines
attack you?  It should have caught you the moment you came in, hidden or
not."

   Harry shrugged as he began lathering his legs, making sure to keep his
front towards them.  "I don't know.  I had the shield up all last night. 
But before then, I was virtually invisible.  I've learned to hide my scent
from beasts and to blend in with the environment."

   Ivy uncrossed her arms.  "You still haven't told us any of your past."

   Harry breathed a deep, long sigh - not a sigh of frustration, but
rather, in Ivy's point of view, a resigned one - and turned his back
towards them.  "Are you sure you want to know?"

   They both gasped in shock at what they were seeing.  Angry red lines and
welts were marked into the child's skin.  Black, charred scars crisscrossed
his back, and deep, /deep/ cuts covered them all, the grossly parting slits
where his skin was once combined showing how old the scars were.  The water
ran down the multiple grooves as he showcased just a small glimpse into his
life.

   Both girls were deeply disgusted at the sight.  However, their reactions
were quite different.  Pamela covered her mouth to cover her gasp, and her
feet took an involuntary step back.

   Harleen, however, found herself stepping forward.

   Harry grimaced.  If this arrangement had any chance of continuing - and
he finally started to believe that yes, it quite possibly could - then he
knew they would have to see what he had.  He didn't really have a choice -
he hadn't placed a glamour charm on himself since two days previous, and
they would likely attack him if he put a spell on his back, demanding what
he was hiding.

   Besides, the best way to earn a lover's trust is to tell them your
biggest secret.  Only a select few of his lovers ever found out his secret,
and that was through boneheaded mistakes much like this one.

   It had cost him a few girls, and while they were all one-night stands
with muggles, it was unpleasant to be reminded that he wasn't as much of a
catch as he wanted to be.

   Honestly, he should've learned that by now.

   So he hissed in surprise and shock as someone nimbly jumped into the
shower and hugged him, pressing the cotton of her robe against his back.

   "W-wha-?"

   "WHO DID THIS TO YOU!  I'LL KILL EM!  THOSE AWFUL, /CREATINOUS/
SONSABITCHES!  LET ME AT EM!  I'LL...  I'll..."

   She gripped at his chest tighter, and her body shook.  Harry, in shock,
stood still as Harley began to cry on his shoulder.

   Pamela, her hand still covering her mouth, honestly couldn't fault her
girlfriend's reaction.  She wanted nothing more than to make mulch of
whoever did...  /that/ to them.

   She closed her eyes and turned away.  The sight was...  yes, disturbing.
But moreso, the sight of her girlfriend hugging what was still,
technically, a stranger, naked in her bathroom...

   It didn't disturb her more than she thought it would.

   In fact, it didn't really disturb her at all.  Granted, she was forced
to watch them have sex, and inexplicably joined in, but...  she thought she
was unaffected by this point.

   She had a theory; pheromones.

   She was forced to whiff in the sexual energy in the room, was forced to
take in the heady smell of Harry's sweaty body, and Harley's hungry sex.

   Normally, that would only affect a human a little.  However, due to her
heightened senses, the pheromones attacked her nose like an aphrodisiac.

   /As Harry penetrated Harley for the very first time, her body unfroze at
the almost visible wave of arousal that permeated from the two.  Her body
still weak, she carefully slid backwards and rested her back against the
corner of the wall, out of their view before Harry turned Harley around and
backed her into the sink./

   /Her breathing was heavy, and she found her hand wandering to her
heaving chest.  Her fingers pinched at her aching nipples under the thick
dress shirt, and she let out a silent groan./

   /The leaves around her waist wilted away, leaving her bottomless, and
her fingers slid downward into the moist heat./

   /The moans were now background noise - a mere buzzing as she was
completely focused on the smell.  She stoked the fires of her flaming cunt,
her two longest fingers unrelenting as she squelched in and out of her
tight passage./

   /Her mouth opened in a soundless scream as she climaxed - she was never
really vocal, except for the occasional moan or gasp, and Harley usually
did enough talking for the both of them in bed./

   /"Fu-u-uck, Me-e," she heard in the far distance, and she breathed
through her nose to avoid panting.  A part of her was aware that she had to
be silent the entire time.  Never mind the fact that she was too weak to do
or say anything if she was caught, but she didn't want to be caught nude by
the stranger who was apparently named 'Harry.'/

   /Unfortunately, she was just coming down from her high when she smelled
in the pungent, dominant scent again.  And, before her fingers could escape
her darker green velvet vice, she whimpered as her knuckles scraped along
her inner walls once again./

   /"Harley," the boy muttered, and instead of rage at the picture she
envisioned, she raised her hips to meet her fingers and tore at her dress
shirt, the buttons popping easily with her strength./

   /Harry, the lean, toned, incredibly fit boy she had just met, but not
really, pounding into her girlfriend from behind, his cock stretching deep
in to her body with a force, thickness and speed that only her vines could
go, if she ever learned the self-control to use them while at a sexual
high. Harleen, her dear, beautiful Harley, lolling her tongue out the side
of her mouth, panting uncontrollably as her body was used as a simple
cocksleeve, her small, pink tongue doing nothing to ruin the large smile on
her face.  She licked at her shiny black lips as she stared at her
girlfriend, her eyes unflinching even as her face shined with perspiration.
Her breasts were currently being mauled by the boy behind her, squeezing
and fondling her favorite toys./

   /And her, crawling, on her hands and knees, completely nude, sliding
towards them sultrily, her eyes smoldering.  Her hair covered half of her
face, and yet she still got a full view of her slutty girlfriend being
fucked royally by the devilish rogue, his stupid grin suddenly less stupid
to her, his hard body now ogled by her./

   /When she was close enough, Harleen reached up, and pulled her face
closer for a kiss.  The girls moaned as Harry's cock twitched deep within
her womb, and as Harley tongue-fucked her throat, Ivy came again in real
life./

   /This continued twice more, and as her brain was beginning to shut down
of exhaustion and damn near dehydration, she looked up to the ceiling of
the small hallway that led into the large kitchen.  Her bright green eyes
sparked in recognition./

   /The pink mist, indiscernible to the human eye, was one of the many
quirks to her powers.  She had never really questioned what this particular
power was - she just thought it was a quirk that told her who would respond
to her feminine wiles more quickly, the larger the aura the target carried.
She had never before correlated that aura to those who didn't have an aura
around her, who were either married, in a committed relationship, or gay.
Most single, straight men had a large aura around when they laid eyes on
her, but she never bothered to ask them about their relationship status./

   /It didn't even appear to her as she stared at the misty cloud that had
completely filled the top half of an invisible dome in the kitchen.  As she
idly frigged herself to a fifth orgasm, she didn't think about it as she
glanced around the corner to see the young couple laying together on the
mattress.  She didn't even question the mattress's presence.  Instead, she
crawled over to the couple./

   /Her face hovered over Harley.  So peaceful.  So beautiful.  She never
really considered letting her hair down during sex, and when they did,
Harley was blonde at the time./

   /It was intoxicating, seeing her like this, with no makeup, even./

   /Ivy couldn't bring herself to be mad.  Not at Harley./

   /She glanced into the face of what she now knew to be Harry James
Potter. She blinked in confusion.  She wasn't as angry as she wanted to be.
She was upset.  Disappointed.  Mildly irritated./

   /Not angry.  She stumbled to her feet.  She needed to get away. 
Anywhere but there.  Anywhere -/

   /She fell, and caught herself.  Another wave of pleasure hit her, and
she gasped./

   /Harley twitched in her sleep.  Ivy smiled.  And, before she could stop
herself, she leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips./

   /And she did it again./

   /And she did it a third time, a little lower.  She kissed her soft jaw,
before kissing her neck, taking a small lick as she traveled down her
lover's body, unintentionally tasting the point where Harry's tongue had
been.  She kissed the top of the girl's cleavage, then her right breast,
directly on her peach-colored nipple.  Her tongue danced on Harley's toned
stomach, tickling her in her sleep, before giving a small smooch to her
belly button./

   /Her nose was attacked again with the smell - this was much more
manageable, though.  Still, for a second, she was dazed as she finally set
her eyes upon her lover's bald lips, between her slightly parted legs./

   /Her lips shook with hunger.  Her eyes shined with desire.  Her fingers
tapped against the mattress with wanting./

   /And as her red lips kissed and tongued her lover's pink petals, not a
single part of her gave a tingle of regret./

   /And, minutes later, as she gave a small, tentative lick to the head of
Harry's penis, she felt weak.  Horny.  Unattached.  Horny.  Resigned.../

   /A little sated./

   /She took a longer lick.  Her sex, still burning, cooled down a little.
She grinned at the tip of his cock; she had found her cure./

   /Her tongue rolled around the head of his penis, holding his semi-hard
dick in her hand with dainty fingers.  She was careful not to smear the
sticky copulation juices off of his hardening cock, making small cooing
noises as her body began to feel less flustered.  She bathed his heavy
balls with her tongue, the scent of his groin slow disappearing./

   /When she sat back, she sighed wonderfully to herself with a clear mind.
She was /cured/./

   /The monstrous erection stood proudly in front of her./

   /Her sex didn't tingle.  Not even a little.  And she was thankful.  Even
if she /was/ attracted, she had already gotten off about six times, at her
last count.  The cloud of pink mist above them no longer affected her. 
Even the aura that permeated from the two teens didn't draw her to them./

   /She sat on her haunches for a moment, watching the two laid out in
front of her, wondering what to do next./

   /Her lips quirked.  She had just gone down on a complete stranger, a
/boy/ no less, who had just fucked her girlfriend./

   /If she were to kill him, she didn't think he would even argue./

   /Harley moaned a little.  Then, ever-so-slowly, she rolled over and
rested her head on his shoulder.  She bent her legs up and wrapped her
thighs around his arm, cuddling up to him in the cutest, most perverted way
Ivy had ever seen./

   /Though, she had to admit, it turned back to cute when she pressed her
lips to his shoulder for a small second, and rested her head back on that
spot./

   /Ivy felt a coldness clutch at her heart.  The familiarity of which she
had done that...  having never seen or felt Harley do that to her, and she
was a light sleeper./

   /Harley's aura was unaffected.  She wasn't subconsciously aroued - well,
any more so than the orgasm she gave her minutes ago.  And she cuddled
closer to Harry out of instinct.  Out of affection./

   /Out of /love/./

   /She glanced at the boy who was blissfully unaware of his insanely good
luck.  His large member and sex drive aside; there was nothing really
spectacular about him.  He looked fit - very fit - but he wasn't muscular
or anything.  In fact, he looked a bit on the scrawny side.  She liked to
think that his green eyes reminded Harley of someone else she loved, but
that was a bit too farfetched.  The minor scars across his body made him
look like a man who had fought battles, but his clean-shaven face made him
look like a child trapped in a warrior's body.  He had no hair on his
chest, and she was pretty sure Harley didn't like that anyway, but it did
nothing to improve his looks in her eyes./

   /No.  Harry Potter, she surmised, was quite an unremarkable child./

   /Was this a fad?  Was this simply Harleen going through a rebellious
phase or something?  She was a bit of a mother-figure, but Harley knew how
to act like an adult most times.  She was wise beyond her years, and it was
one of the many things Pamela had fallen in love with./

   /So why was /he/ so important to her?/

   /What made him so special in her eyes?  His charming, disarming smile?
The rugged, tangled hair that Harley /obviously/ wanted to run her fingers
through?  His strong angular jawline, that she would just /love/ to hold
between her fingers as they kissed passionately.  His lean, powerful
physique that was just /born/ for domination?/

   /Possibly.  She wouldn't know.  She wasn't attracted to him./

   /But she could still appreciate the human body, and while the female
form was enhanced perfection, his body produced no immediate flaws that she
could see./

   /Pamela sighed.  If she could choose a man...  she wouldn't./

   /But, if Harley could choose a man for her.../

   /Her eyes lowered to his still stiff cock, the few veins poking angrily
at her./

   /Her hands, with a small amount of trepidation, reached out to touch his
pulsing member, and she could feel the heat pulsing against her fingers. 
It was hot to the touch.  Searing./

   /She licked her lips and lowered her head once more.../

   Pamela took a deep breath, watching the two stand under the shower
together.

   She made a decision.

   ------------------------

   Harry stood there, unsure of what to do as Harley held onto his tight
form.  She had asked him who did this to him, and while he could have given
her an answer, he didn't want to.  He didn't really have to.  What
difference would it make?

   They were all dead, anyway.

   He breathed through his nose.  What harm could it do to tell a couple of
criminals?  "I killed them," he muttered, his voice lost into the sounds of
the falling water.

   He had underestimated Harley's hearing.  "Good."

   Harry turned his head to her, surprised, his body unmoving.  "That's not
an answer I expected."

   "I don't make idle threats; I would have killed them if you hadn't."

   Harry refrained from mentioning the many times she threatened him with
death, and wisely kept silent.  As he had learned a long time ago; never
piss off a girl when you're naked.

   One of Harley's hands left his chest, and he heard her turn the nozzle
for the showerhead.  The water now only dripped to the smooth sandstone, in
rapid patters, and Harley returned to hugging him.

   "Tell me."

   "There's not much to say.  My last remaining relatives were forced to
raise me.  They didn't appreciate the arrangement."

   "No." She shook her head, and her soaked, darkened hair splattered water
everywhere.  "Tell me everything.  I want to know."

   "Wait..." He gently pulled himself out of her grip, and before she could
take a look at his scarred back, he turned around to face her.  He eyed her
suspiciously.  "I didn't show you this because I want your /pity/.  I just
wanted to warn you what you might be getting into."

   Her blue eyes lost their concern, and she shot back defiantly, "Warn me?
How shallow do you take me for?  You think I would reject you just because
you showed me a few scars?"

   Harry held his tongue.  In all honesty, there were supposedly nice,
lonely housewives all over Little Whinging, and it was often a
deal-breaker. He couldn't use a glamour outside of school, after all. 
"I... I'm sorry.  It's just the reaction I was expecting.  It's not exactly
a turn-on, is it?  I wouldn't exactly be in the mood if I happened to
glance in the mirror."

   She narrowed her eyes.  "I'd rip off this robe right now and make you
/take/ me if you want me to prove you're not damaged goods." She allowed
herself a smirk.  "Besides, whether you're into it or not, I don't have any
plans to be /behind/ you."

   Only when Harry smiled, did she allow herself to hug him again.  She was
surprised that he didn't tense this time, very pleasantly surprised.

   "I don't think Ivy wants me to be here, though," Harry murmured, looking
towards the door entryway.

   "What makes you say that?"

   "She's not here."

   She quickly broke Harry's embrace and looked at the empty doorway.  She
sighed.  "Not again..."

   "I've seen the way you two look at each other," Harry said quickly, "and
I'm not getting in between you two."

   "Not if I have anything to say about it," she growled, and looked back
to grab his hand.  She didn't want to end up grabbing the wrong appendage.
Right now, at least.  "Come on.  We'll go look for her."

   "Wait," he stopped her before she could move, and she looked back in
impatience.  "Why are you doing this?  Why..." he didn't really know what
to say.

   "We had sex," she said matter-of-factly.  "No offense to Pammy, but that
was the best sex I've ever had.  Never mind that you're a really nice guy,
that I want to get to know.  I don't make many friends around my age. 
Including you and Ivy, I'm at a grand total of /two/.  We've been thinking
of expanding our team, and while Pammy wants to get this leather-clad
dominatrix, you seem like a great addition to our little group.  If Pammy
can learn to like you, then you're in."

   Harry tilted his head at the absurd idea.  "Do I really fit the bill?"

   "Huh?"

   "A woman.  That seems to be what 'Pammy' is going for."

   Harley shrugged.  "You didn't fit the bill before.  But when I last woke
up, Red's a meat-eater."

   Harry's lips quirked.  He liked this girl.  "So she doesn't like men, I
take it?"

   "We never bring it up.  I suppose to her, they're nothing but
procreation, and since she has all the babies she needs, they're useless to
her." She bit her lip.  "But, there is one thing you should know before I
try to convince her."

   Harry raised an eyebrow.  "Yeah?"

   "How good are you with plants?"

   Harry grinned.

   ------------------------

   Poison Ivy strode through the greenhouse in a tank-top and jean shorts,
a little nervously.

   She hadn't seen or heard from the two teens since she had left them an
hour ago, and she was a little worried at this point.  She had connected to
her vines to feel out the entire property of her home, and she had a
location.

   It was the location she was nervous about.

   It was the one place that was an actual greenhouse; glass ceilings and
walls, a thermostat, a sprinkler system, and of course, her luscious garden
of food and rare plants.

   It was the largest part of her home, and was the source of all of her
proudest work.

   If Harley and Harry were having sex in there, she would have to kill
him, just out of obligation.

   The vial of crimson liquid in her hand would have meant nothing.  She
had been working on the vial for the past hour, combining some very potent
essences and herbs, and this all would've been a waste of material if the
two were stinking up her biodome with their /pungency/.

   She slid open the large clay doors, and blinked at the sight.

   Harley - a fully-clothed, pig-tailed Harley - looked over her shoulder
and waved back at her girlfriend.  "Hiya, Red!"

   The redhead, from which the nickname derived, stared at the sight before
her.

   Harry stood and admired his work, wiping his conjured gloves on his
jeans.  "That should do it," he muttered to himself, his eyes searching the
flowerbed for imperfections.

   "So this is what you two have been up to." Harry turned to see Pamela,
her hands on her hips, her eyes amused.  "And here I was thinking I'd have
to kill you for having sex in my garden."

   Harry sheepishly grinned.  "The thought crossed my mind."

   She looked plainly at him.  "Don't.  /Ever/."

   Harry blinked - not at the threat, but the implications.  "So...  does
this mean what I think it means?"

   Pam smiled.  "You've proved yourself more than house-trained.  These
rows are impeccably tidy and none of the flowers seem to be damaged.  Was
it your power?" She wondered, the thought having just occurred to her. 
When she was in sync with her environment, controlling her plants, they
always got the job done...  but they were never precise.  Not like this.

   Harry shook his head.  "I was forced to do gardening as a kid.  Won
several awards a year for my garden.  I've never gotten a chance to work
with lilies before, though.  Gardening was really the only part I enjoyed
about my childhood." He shrugged.  "That, and cooking.  Especially when...
never mind."

   Pamela raised her eyebrow.  He looked to be very uncomfortable, as if he
was going to say something he shouldn't say.  "We don't keep secrets here,
Harry.  You have enough as it is, so we're giving you a lot of leeway right
now."

   The boy with green eyes turned away from her.  "I was just going to say
when I get compliments." He forced a smile.  "That makes it worth it." His
smile was genuine as he finished the statement.

   Because it was true.  He loved the compliments that he got from his
cooking, and they mostly came from Hermione's family.  He wasn't going to
tell her yet that he loved cooking, especially when he actually got to eat
the meal he served, which he...  often...  didn't do at the Dursleys.

   His smile slipped, but Ivy's attention was already on the blonde as she
bounded up to them.  "Did I just hear you can cook?"

   Harry nodded.  "But, I'm not really sure of the diet here..." His eyes
searched the landscape.

   "I have a pretty normal diet, actually," Pamela alleviated his concerns.
"It's the natural circle of life.  I eat the fruit and vegetables my lovely
plants supply, and the animals that eat the plants.  I still have a little
bit of human left, so I can't just survive off of sunlight and water,
though both helps."

   Harry hmm'ed to himself.  "Alright," he agreed.  "Sextoy, sidekick,
gardener, chef.  Anything else?"

   "How good are you at repairs?" Harley asked cheekily.

   "Wait, sidekick?" Ivy turned to her girlfriend.  "You want him to /work/
with us, too?"

   Harley leaned on Ivy and put her arm around her shoulders.  "Well, he
does more than just look pretty.  And even if that's all he's good at..."
she whispered in Ivy's ear, "...he'll look /damn/ good in spandex and
lycra."

   Ivy rolled her eyes.  He would.  She wasn't going to tell them that. 
"You may be forgetting the point that where he's from, he's a hero."

   Harry nodded to her point.  "Yes.  We're illegal heroes.  Our goal was
to one day kill the evil overlord and take his place, stronger than ever."
They gave him surprised looks, and he shrugged.  "Our world needed a better
leader.  Badly."

   Harley plopped herself on the ground, and Pamela, seeing what she was
doing, smiled to herself and gently sat down, sitting next to Harleen. 
"Sit," the blonde pointed in front of them, and Harry, confused, sat down
in front of the two, his gloves disappearing.

   "Before we start," Harley began, "Pammy, I'm sorry.  For...  all of last
night, basically.  I should have bitten his tongue off at the very start,
if it would have made you feel better."

   Ivy smiled.  "Apology accepted.  Yes, logically speaking, you should
have.  But," she glanced over at Harry and offered him a rare smile.  "I'm
glad she didn't.  It seems she's gained a new friend."

   "Right!" Harley exclaimed, jumping on the transition, "and you know what
friends do?  Share secrets!" She held her hand out to Harry who, after a
short, awkward moment, reached out and shook it.  "We haven't really met
properly, have we?  I'm Harleen Quinzel.  My friends call me Harley. 
Former gymnast and ballerina.  Wanted a little more...  excitement out of
life.  Showed interest in psychology.  Parents couldn't fathom the thought.
On my fourteenth birthday, they took me somewhere I always wanted to go,
and they hoped it would scare me straight." Pamela snorted at the choice of
words.  "Stop, Red!  You're ruining the punchline!  Anyway, they took me on
a private field trip to Blackgate Prison, home of the insane, the
criminals, and the criminally insane.  There, I met a lot of cool people. A
mutant crocodile man, a scary smart dude who gave me a questionnaire on my
way through, a man dressed as a bat..."

   "He really was a bat.  It wasn't a costume.  Much like the crocodile
man, he was a mutant."

   "Right.  So, I meet all these really cool people.  When we're about to
leave, the alarm goes off.  Prison break.  I remember thinking it was going
to be so much fun to watch a psychopath at work.  Unfortunately for the
studious side of me, I didn't run into any.

   "Fortunately," she smiled, resting her hand on Pamela's thigh, "I met
the girl of my dreams.  Pammy?"

   Pamela smiled at Harley's words, and her hand extended to Harry as well,
who shook it.  "Fine, then.  I'm Pamela Isley, and I'm a cradle robber."

   "Pammy!" She swatted her shoulder.  "You're only four years older than
me!"

   "You didn't tell me your age when I...  attacked you, and subsequently
kidnapped you," she muttered embarrassingly.  "You looked far too mature
for your years, and you had a ponytail and glasses when we met."

   Harry smiled at the back and forth of the two lovers.  "You had glasses,
too?"

   Harley nodded.  "I'm wearing contacts, now.  I wear glasses to school."

   "School?" Harry asked, perplexed.  He looked her over.  Without her
makeup and colored hair, she looked very young, maybe seventeen.  "As in to
get your degree?"

   She shook her head.  "Nope!  I'm a Sophomore at good ol' Gotham High. 
I'm fifteen."

   "...Huh." Harry was surprised, to say the least.  He had met more
developed girls at fifteen, but they didn't quite look as mature as Harley
carried herself.  The many times she called him 'kid' never quite left his
mind, either.  "Okay."

   When it was clear he wasn't going to say anything else, Ivy continued.
"I'm Nineteen.  When I was sixteen, I was interning for a big environmental
company at WayneTech Industries.  Several sexual harassment claims later, I
found myself being pushed into chemicals that have made me what I am
today."

   "A lesbian," Harley giggled.

   Pamela swatted at her knee.  "I hated men before then.  I became Poison
Ivy that night.  Now, I'm on a crusade to make the world a better place to
live.  For forest-life, at least." She held out a vial with her other hand,
and Harry hesitantly took it.  "I still dabble in science.  That vial... 
/should/...  heal some of the more drastic wounds on your back." At the
unexpected news, Harley squealed and hugged Pamela to her, and she smiled
embarrassingly at Harry's look of shock.

   "Th-thank you." His voice was thick with emotion.  To be rewarded so
kindly by someone he had essentially betrayed...

   He set his shoulders firm.  He'd tell them anything.  Everything he
could.  He had their trust, and he would do whatever he could to keep it.

   He cleared his throat.  They asked for it.

   "My name is Harry Potter, and I'm a wizard...."

   --------------------------------------------

   Chapter 4: Caring

   "Wait," Harley interrupted immediately.  "You mean, like a 'Wizard,'
wizard?  So that wasn't some kind of power stick you had earlier?  That was
a...  a wand?"

   Harry nodded the affirmative.  "We generally call it a wand.  Though,
that's a better name.  Witches, wizards, we all have one, unique to us.  My
wand fits me the best."

   Harley cocked her head to the side.  "So, there are more of you." It
wasn't phrased as a question; more as a confirmation of her earlier guess.

   Harry once again nodded.  "I don't really know how many of us, but we're
all over the world.  I suppose there would possibly be about a million of
us total.  We're a secret to the rest of the normal world.  The three
biggest schools are in Scotland, France, and...  Sweden, I think.  Or
Norway.  Doesn't matter.  Somewhere in Scandinavia.  I've never gone there,
but those are the biggest schools I know." He furrowed his brow.  "Hermione
once told me there was a girls-only school in Salem..." At their confused
looks, he sheepishly grinned.  "Hermione.  She's my best friend, and the
most brilliant witch of our generation."

   Harleen raised an eyebrow.  "And where would you rank?"

   Harry shrugged.  "Probably top ten, if I were to guess.  Among wizards?
Far and beyond." There was a small quirk of his lips as he continued. 
"Anyway, I went to the one in Scotland.  Don't laugh at the name.  It's
about a millennia old, and they don't like to change things very much. 
It's called Hogwarts School..." he waited for the muffled chuckles to die
down, smirking amusedly, "...of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

   "And I guess," Harley noted, smile still on her face, "that since there
are no negative connotations with the word 'witch' where you're from, and
you seemed to have patched things up with Salem, you don't have a...  say,
/vendetta/ against the normal people."

   Harry pondered the question for a moment.  "Well...  yes, and no.  There
are those who absolutely hate normal people, or as they call them, muggles.
They have taken it to heart that they are the evolved species, and normal
people are the equivalent to monkeys in the evolutionary chain...  if they
even know about the evolutionary scale.  The society I've been around is a
bit backwards.  I'd say the majority are hidden from the mundane society,
and plans to stay that way.  Some hide in plain sight; others just hide. 
Out of sight, out of mind, I reckon." He remembered something.  "Actually,
there's a funny story about the whole Salem thing.  I'll tell you about it
later?" The two nodded, intrigued, and he continued.  "So yeah, withes and
wizards don't get out much.  Occasionally, a magical person is born in a
normal family, and the immediate family is told of our society." He stopped
to ponder to himself.  "Hermione would do a much better job of explaining
this.  She's muggleborn, and I wasn't really given an information pamphlet
when I was introduced to this world."

   "Why?" Pamela asked him, Harleen mirroring her inquiry immediately.

   "My parents died when I was a baby, so I went to my muggle relatives. 
My mum was muggleborn, and her sister was normal.  She...  didn't like
that. I don't know if she was jealous, or just unnerved by my mum's
unnaturalness, but it obviously caused a rift between them.  Apparently,
they weren't too thrilled when I was dropped on their doorstep.  They made
it their mission in life to beat the '/freak/' out of me."

   The two winced at the venom at that particular word.  Harleen recognized
that the word 'freak' had a lot more meaning to it, and made a mental note
to ask him later.  "So," Harley started, wanting to take the conversation
to a lighter part.  "How were you introduced to magic?"

   Harry smiled fondly, and the girls, out of reaction, relaxed at his
suddenly easygoing position.  "I was actually running from my dear cousin
and his equal-minded friends when I had the sudden urge to disappear.  I
closed my eyes really tightly, and when I opened it, I found myself on the
roof of the school." His lips quirked with amusement.  "But before I could
stop myself, I stumbled and fell /off/ the roof."

   Harley gasped in surprise, and Ivy's eyebrows rose to her red hair. 
"And that's when you found out you had super strength or immortality or
something?"

   Harry shook his head in the negative, and he smirked.  "Not yet."

   Her eyebrows rose even further.

   He continued.  "It was a one-story building, but I was six at the time,
so I doubt I would have survived, or at least have been critically injured.
I screamed, and I didn't even close my eyes when I appeared on the roof
again.  It was...  a strange sensation, disappearing for the first time. 
I've done it quite a bit of times since then, but it's disorienting, to say
the least."

   "You can disappear and appear at will," Harley muttered to herself,
disbelieving.

   "I have to know what the general surroundings look like," Harry defended
himself, as if it wasn't /that/ spectacular.

   "Anywhere in the world?" Harleen asked, before a thought came to her,
"Like Italy?"

   Harry smiled at her enthusiasm.  "I've never tried to pop out of the
country before, but I don't think that will work.  They have methods for
longer range travel, so it's either impossible to pop there, or it takes a
lot more power than the average magic user can spare.  I'd really have to
try it.  I wouldn't want you losing something of yourself behind."

   She paled.  "That happens?"

   He nodded.  "We call it /splinching/."

   "It happens so much they have a name for it," she paled further. 
Suddenly, she felt like she'd rather take a plane.

   "Not that often," Harry tried to placate her fears.  "It's not like it's
in the newspaper every week or something.  It's just an occasional thing.
They're usually drunk, and if they weren't, it's a fingernail or a shoe."

   Ivy glanced over at her girlfriend and saw that she wasn't as worried
anymore, and she gave the kid a point for calming her so quickly.  "So,"
she wondered, turning back to Harry, "what did you do with your newfound
powers?"

   "I left."

   "The roof?"

   Harry shook his head.  "Nope.  My family.  House Number Four, Privet
Drive, Little Whinging.  I don't know if I left Surrey, but I did get
pretty bloody far.  From there, I traveled, trying to teach myself new
tricks.  I learned a lot those few years.  I conned con artists, learned
how to conjure knives, and eventually, when I stole one, guns, and I
regularly used shields to protect myself during sleep.  I'd say the shield
charm is still the fastest spell I've ever conjured.  None of my friends
can do it, but I can shoot a shield out of my hand and knock people to the
ground with it."

   "A force...  shield?" Harley questioned, awed.

   "I never gave it a name," Harry chuckled, "but I'll take it into
consideration.  Anyway, when the people got wise of my reputation, I went
somewhere else.  Throughout my visits, I made a few friends, and I was
invited to a few rugby pickup games on occasion.  I found out I was
rather...  gifted."

   Harley snorted with laughter.  Ivy smirked at her girlfriend's reaction.
"I'd ask you to clarify, but I think you'd ruin her imaginative, twisted
mind."

   Harry stared deadpan at the two.  "I don't mind if I burst your bubble.
I had quick feet."

   "Of course, of course," Harley waved it off, her blond hair flipping
back as her laughing faltered, looking to the sky.  "That was just...  a
poor choice of words, is all.  Heh heh."

   "Nope, just a poor choice of meaning," Harry grinned.  "Your fault,
there.  As I was saying, I found myself able to run faster than all the
other children.  A time before that, I never played sports when I was in
school with my cousin, Dudley, so I never really knew if it was my magic
that did it subconsciously for me.  But I didn't have any way of testing
that.  I'd like to think I did it on my own merit.  I had to do a lot of
running when I lived on my own.

   "I found out pretty quickly that the easiest place to live during the
day was at a local library.  As long as you're taking books and reading
them, and find a nice secluded corner, you're generally left alone.  For
the first few times, I used it as a prop to sleep.  Then, after a rather
rude librarian woke me up, I started pretending to read, and then I found
myself immersed in the book.  After that, I read a lot of books, to a point
that I didn't even bother to sleep anymore.  It started with fantasy, of
course, but I soon found that I enjoyed nonfiction; Architecture,
neuroscience, some basic math, history.  It was very fascinating.  I found
one book on psychology on how to clear your mind, and to organize
thoughts."

   "It's crap," Harley pursed her lips in a frown.  "I've read that book.
Bettings and Wayward wrote it, right?  It's called /Mind Magicks/, if I'm
not mistaken.  The biggest load of shit I've ever read.  The mind is
constantly thinking, it won't stop because you tell it to.  Just thinking
that is a thought, and your mind is just processing more ways to shut up!
You'd have to be mentally damaged in the most /dangerous/ of ways to
completely shut down your cognitive - " She stopped at Harry's wide grin.
"Oh, fuck me."

   This time, it was Pamela who laughed uproariously.  Harry's smile didn't
fade.  "Looks like I learned something new about myself.  Though, in your
opinion, I suppose that's not surprising..."

   Harley blushed and pulled at her pigtails, hiding her face between her
pulled up knees.

   It was only until Pamela's melodious laughing began to die down, and
Harley's blush started fading, when Harry continued his story.  "So, I
learned the art of Mind Magicks.  I now have near-perfect recall of all of
my memories.  I have the option to suppress, or even /delete/, the memories
I don't want, and protect the ones that mean a lot to me.  Incidentally, I
also learned to protect my mind from outside threats.  Wizards call it
Occlumency.  The opposite of that - /reading/ minds - is called
Legilimency, and that's an even rarer gift.  I don't have that." He
couldn't read thoughts without the help of a wand, as was the textbook
definition.  He could however, read surface thoughts and emotions by just a
glance.  That was more than rare, it was /unique/, and he had yet another
magical creature, Fawkes, to thank for that.

   Best not yet tell them that, though.  He wasn't sure how they'd react to
him potentially knowing how they felt at all times.

   He frowned minutely.  Harley and Pamela both caught it, and they knew
that what happened next was going to be a rather troubling section of his
life; one they were sure, was part of a few more to come.  "The range of my
complete memory goes back to when I was about a year old.  I can easily, as
if it were ten minutes ago, recall the last six months of my parents'
lives." He smiled a bittersweet, regretful smile, and closed his eyes, as
if he were reliving the wonderful moments right then.

   Harley twitched her head at Pamela and gave her a pleading look.  Ivy
nodded immediately, knowing what she was about to do.

   Without a word, Harley got on her knees and crawled closer to Harry, who
opened his eyes at her movement and glanced at her in confusion.  Before he
could comprehend what was going on, she was at his side, wrapping her arms
around his waist, and placed her head on his shoulder.

   Harry's eyes instantly searched Pamela's, not having seen the silent
conversation, and got a hesitant smile in reply.  "Go on with your story,"
she pleaded, her voice thick.

   Harry cleared his throat nervously; he was rarely this vulnerable with
anyone.  "I don't think I can, actually."

   Harley, misinterpreting his words, squeezed him tighter to herself. 
"It's okay - just let it all out."

   Harry smiled at the girl's attempt, and he honestly felt touched at her
care.  He raised his eyebrow to Ivy, who only smiled weakly and shrugged.
"I believe she needs the comfort more than you."

   "No, I don't," the girl whined, "I just...  sometimes, people just need
a hug."

   Harry smiled at the notion, and wiggled his arm out to wrap around the
girl.  He had dealt with overly affectionate girls, and as a boy who once
hated physical contact for obvious reasons, he cherished the moments now.
"Now then," he continued, "I won't bore you with the details, but I had
figured out why my parents died.  That's when I first discovered they were
wizards.  I was always told by my aunt and uncle that they died in a car
crash.  What really happened was the Dark Overlord I was telling you about.
And I heard a magical prophecy, that as I discovered later, wizards fully
believe in, because psychics do exist.  They've never said the full thing
in front of me, but I got the gist of it."

   Ivy hesitated.  "And...  what did it say?"

   Harry smiled grimly.  "He has to kill me, or one day, I could have the
power to kill him.  That's it.  Only I can do it.  No one else." He
grimaced.  "Not that anyone else has bothered to try.

   "And the day he killed my parents...  I did it.  Well, partially
anyway."

   They looked appropriately sad, so he decided to spare them the details.
"My parents were betrayed by their best friend, as he told the Dark Lord,
where they were hiding.  When he...  when he got to me, he cast the killing
curse on me."

   "There's a...  /killing/ curse?" Harley asked frightfully, her eyes wide
as she stared up at Harry.

   He nodded.  "It wasn't originally used for that purpose.  It stops the
heart and gives animals a quick death when you're hunting.  The spell was
then taken and evolved into a spell that's literally fueled with hate. 
But, well, that's how cynical the world gets sometimes." He sighed
ruggedly. "Anyway, I was apparently the first person to survive that curse;
ever.  The curse rebounded and hit him.  And that was the start of the
thirteen year absence of Lord Voldemort."

   The room was silent for minutes.  Ivy stretched her long legs out in
front of her, and her hands gripped the patch of grass at her side.  Harley
kept her hold on Harry, and he felt her hand rub up and down his back
comfortingly, her hand rubbing at the uneven ridges of his scars.

   "Red," she spoke out, her head leaving Harry's shoulder, "I think that's
enough for introductions.  Would you like to help me apply some of this
stuff to his back?"

   Ivy raised a delicately slender eyebrow.  "I don't think so.  Especially
if you plan on it leading to what I /know/ you're planning."

   She bit her lip.  "Come on, Red...  it's always more fun when we do
things together."

   "Harley, I'm not going to argue with you about this.  I told you, this
morning, that he is allowed to stay.  /Don't/ push it."

   Harry watched the stare-down between the two with a tinge of amusement.
He had women fight over him once - the Marietta and Cho incident he had
told them yesterday came to mind - but it was always one for, and one
against.  He didn't particularly like this trend.

   "Ivy," he interrupted delicately, "if you need more time with Harley, I
do have the rest of an apparently very strange city to explore.  I know who
I would choose to have more time with." His curious eyes met Harleen's. 
"Still makes me wonder why you want /me/ around.  I have a friend who could
introduce you to a collection of toys, if you decide you miss me.  I'm not
the most remarkable kid in the world, Harleen."

   "You don't see it?" She asked incredulously.  When he shook his head,
she frowned.  "It's amazing how you can only see the worst in you.  How you
can consider yourself lucky when a modicum of good comes your way, and not
notice that you deserve it.  How...  how many lovers have you had,
exactly?"

   "A few." It wasn't said nervously, like she would have suspected.  It
was merely stated as a fact.

   "Define 'a few'."

   "A bloke never tells," Harry repeated his line from earlier that
morning. "Only with their permission, will I ever tell you their names.  I
learned that lesson a long time ago, and it's never steered me wrong.  I
can assure you, however, that they were all safe and free of diseases.  My
magic tells me that, in case you were wondering."

   Harleen smiled.  "You see?  That's it; chivalry.  You're the last of a
dying breed.  I've met you yesterday, you tied me up, I swung a /mallet/ at
you, and now, you have my complete trust!  I mean, you don't know me well
enough, but if anyone else in Gotham had the chance that you had yesterday,
it'd be all over Gotham News Network /today/.  Even if I was a nobody, I'd
already be gaining a reputation tomorrow."

   "So you're keeping me because I might blackmail you?" He asked cheekily,
his grin massive.

   "Nah," she waved her free hand.  "You wouldn't.  Anyone else would've,
and I woulda just killed 'em."

   Harry quirked a brow.  "Y'know, you realize you have two accents,
right?"

   Harleen smiled.  "Call me bi-lingual."

   Harry chuckled.  "We've got a lot of things in common.  I'll show you
later," he told her, seeing her curious look.  "So, what accent is that?"

   "New York.  Born and raised there."

   "Could never fully get rid of it," Ivy muttered, loud enough for the two
of them to hear.

   "It helps, though," Harleen had a smug grin.  "Who has two different
accents?  No one expects sweet little Harleen to be criminal mastermind
Harley Quinn."

   Ivy snorted with laughter, while Harry asked "So you go by your birth
name at school?"

   Harleen sent a light glare at the smiling Ivy, before she turned to
Harry.  "Well, yeah.  I can't go to school as a jester, now can I?"

   Harry shrugged.  "From what I've seen so far, anything could be
possible. For a second, I thought you were going to a school for criminals
or something."

   Harley and Ivy both shared a laugh at that one.  "Afraid not," Harley
giggled, "but that /would/ be pretty cool." She straightened up.  "Nah,
it's just a regular school.  There are a lot of criminals, but the good
definitely outweigh the bad, by the numbers at least.  There are police,
and there are...  super police."

   "Super police," Harry deadpanned.  Even with magic, he knew that this
place was weirder than he thought.

   "Vigilantes," Ivy said with distaste, moving to stand, "that are more
troublesome than the police."

   "It's supposedly one guy in a costume," Harley muttered, "but we're
pretty sure it's a whole group of robots."

   "O...kay..." Harry muttered skeptically.  He would believe anything at
this point.  "Should I know what he looks like, if I'm going to join your
team?"

   "He's hard to miss," Ivy said with a smirk, crossing her arms.  "But if
you're going to 'join our team', you should tell us how far you've gone
with your magical skills."

   Harry smirked a very cocky smirk.  He was good at a lot of things, but
if there was one thing he had absolute confidence in, it was his abilities.
"When I said I was the smartest wizard in my generation, I wasn't
exaggerating.  I'm usually top of my class, especially practical." He held
up his hand to his right.  "/Accio/ Phoenix wand," he whispered, and mere
seconds later, the slim object sped into his palm.

   Harleen looked at the plain piece of wood with interest.  "That looks...
breakable," she pointed out.

   "Yes, yes it does.  And, as I discovered, irreparable.  And without one,
I'd say quite a large amount of my population would suffer greatly without
a wand.  But I didn't get a wand until I was eleven, when my peers usually
go to school for the first time.  By then, I found myself quite adept at
wandless magic.  I've always been forced to use it.  I don't think I've
been in a fight without it, actually." He pondered to himself.  Then, with
only the slightest of hesitations, he handed over the wand to Harley. 
"It's best that I not use it again.  The Wizarding World is a secret for a
reason.  You can't tell anyone, or a bunch of our police will show up and
erase your memories."

   Harley took her eyes away from the wand that she was holding dearly,
like an ancient scroll.  "Isn't that what you said you had to do to us?"

   "I wouldn't have done it," Harry stressed quickly.  "I've never done it
before.  Messing with someone's brain in that way is far too dangerous for
me to practice.  The thing is; you wouldn't know if you were any good at it
until you've actually performed it.  Makes me wonder how they practice it,
actually..."

   "Nice deflection," Harley noted with a wry smile, before she shrugged.
"Fair's fair, I guess.  I did swing a mallet at your face."

   Harry bristled at the memory; the mallet practically brushed his nose as
it swung past him, as he was too busy putting on the cloak to notice her
reaching for the tool at the time.  "Yes, well, I suppose I'd need a weapon
as well, right?  Maybe a pseudonym?  I'd rather wait a bit until you force
me to wear lycra."

   Pamela chuckled.  "I'm sure she already has a design in her head."

   Harley shook her head, much to Ivy's surprise.  "I'd need a more... 
hands-on look.  The costume defines the character, and I need to study as
much as I can.  And I need your help, Pammy."

   "And of course, she turns it back around to sex," she muttered softly,
glancing up to the glass roof.

   "What?  You helped me design my costume!"

   "I helped you make it; you designed it."

   "Red," she frowned, crossing her arms, "I can take a guess at why you're
avoiding this, but I don't want us to not involve each other when we share
him!"

   Ivy's eyes went wide.  "Wait - sharing him?  /You're/ the one that wants
to keep him.  /Not/ me."

   "Oh, come on, Red!  Sharing is caring!  I thought we went over this!"

   "We didn't."

   "Oh - I guess we didn't.  Huh."

   "This is all great," Harry interrupted uninterestedly, his chin resting
on his left fist, "but if we're going to talk about me as an object, can we
not do it to my face?  While we're at it - " He turned to a shocked
Harleen, "I'm not your sidekick.  I'm your /partner/.  I can promise that
I'm very good at fighting and magic, enough to bring down trolls, wolves,
and bloody /dragons/." He turned to an equally surprised Pamela.  "I'm not
separating you two.  If you have a problem with me, I'll leave.  No one
should feel uncomfortable in their own home.  I like Harley.  I really do.
She's a beautiful, bright, cheerful girl, and we happen to have a lot of
things in common.  And, well...  I suppose there's a reason she's the love
of your life.  If a connection can happen between her and me, then there
might be a chance for us as well.  I'm not forcing you, just pointing out
the obvious." He kicked out his legs and hefted himself up.  He eyed the
vial on the ground beside him.

   Then, after glancing at the girls once more, he walked away.  "Tell me
when you're done wondering who gets to control me," he yelled behind him,
and he walked through the large doors.

   Before he could even close the doors, Harley was on her feet, and as she
began running after him, Ivy rushed to grab her wrist.

   "Red, what -?"

   "He's right.  We need to talk.  And you know we do."

   Harleen's eyes moved back and forth, towards her and back to the door.
"We'll walk and talk, Red."

   "Harleen, listen - "

   "Red, I swear to /God/, I still love you, and I always will, but don't
you /dare/ put me in an ultimatum.  I met him /yesterday/!  You know who
would win.  And you always will." Her eyes were now focused, and blue eyes
met green.  "But Harry...  you've felt it.  He's seen through me in a way I
can't describe.  He's an honest man, Pammy.  How often do you see that? 
How often have /you/ dreamed of seeing that?" She reached up and grabbed
Ivy by her shoulders, and pulled the stunned redhead into a passionate
embrace.

   The fierceness of the kiss was a powerful rush to Ivy, and she found
herself leaning in for more when Harley backed away.  She looked dazed as
well, but the usual goofy smile was placed with a serious expression.

   "With all my heart, I love ya, Red," Harley muttered again, "and I'd let
him leave if you truly want things to go back to the way it was.  But... 
well, I don't know how to argue." She smiled slightly, and tucked her
blonde hair behind her ear.  "But he's a good kid.  Just like I was.  Only
problem is, he's a boy.  And unlike any boy you've ever met.  Unlike any
boy you will ever meet.  He's...  perfect, Red.  For /both/ of us.  And I'm
not saying he had a shitty life immediately before he met us, or that his
life will get worse after us, but...  why not see where things might go? 
Why not help each other feel special?  Why not take that risk?

   "I'm just asking you to give him a chance.  Like you gave me."

   Pamela was silent for a long, tense moment.  She absently licked her
lips, closing her eyes.

   She gave a weak smile.

   "I suppose he'll have to sleep in our bed.  It's not like he hasn't seen
everything already, right?"

   Harley squealed and bounded on the heels of her feet, wrapping her arms
around her girlfriends neck.  Thanks were alternated with kisses littered
all over her face, which Ivy didn't mind.

   Suddenly, her decision felt like an easy one.  Still, it had to come to
an end when she gently pulled away from Harleen.  "Now get the vial.  We've
got someone to cheer up.  Together."

   ------------------------

   "Oh hello, Harry."

   "Luna," he smiled tiredly.  Her familiar face always brought out a smile
in him, even when he didn't want it.  "You never called me back.  I left a
message last night.  I was starting to think I couldn't reach you from
where I am."

   "That's silly, Harry.  You're just in another universe.  You made these
mirrors.  Of course it would be able to withstand a different dimension."

   Harry raised an eyebrow.  "Did the Nargles tell you?" Luna nodded.  And
that answered Harry's question.  He learned, very early on, to always trust
the Nargles.  "Is there any way the Blibbering humdingers can tell me how
to get back?" He mentally patted himself on the back for his perfect
memory, and when Luna brightened a little at the thought that he remembered
another of the creatures she mentioned and their particular uses, he smiled
a little wider, and felt a little bit prouder of himself.

   He needed that.  And somehow, Luna was always there when he needed
cheering up, even when she didn't know it.

   "I haven't asked yet," she informed him, "But I'll be sure to tell them
when I see them.  Do you think you'll be okay until you can come back?"

   "Don't worry about me," he smiled softly at the girl, "what about you?
Any injuries?"

   "Other than Ronald's brain injury, we're all fine.  He's still in the
Hospital Wing.  Those of us who went to the ministry had to sit through
questioning for a few hours.  Pet has publicly announced going light and
disowned her family.  Lavender and Susan are co-writing a lovely article
about the stupidity of the Wizarding World.  We had to put Bitch to sleep;
she was in hysterics over your disappearance.  Madame Bones has confiscated
the veil and they're trying to figure out where you went.  To the world,
you and Sirius are dead.  Hermione sensed that you were alive, but she
couldn't feel where you were, so she decided not to say otherwise unless
you're in danger."

   "Good," Harry sighed to himself.  Always trust Hermione to think ahead.
"Luna, when you said you put Gin to sleep..."

   "Oh, we didn't kill her, Harry.  Though she deserves a heavy spanking
for disobeying us.  No, we just put her in a magical coma." She seemed to
think to herself for a moment.  "Hermione and Tonks tried calling, but she
found your mirror in your bag.  I'm guessing you summoned another one?"

   Harry nodded.  "I was following a nice stranger when I found a broken
shard; I didn't have time to tie it to me then.  Tell them I'm sorry I've
been out of touch."

   "Nice stranger?" Luna queried, her eyes twinkling.

   "Her name's Harleen," he explained, "and she seems willing to let me
stay with her for a while."

   "Ah, the /bloke never tells/ rule, I see," She nodded knowingly, before
brightening.  "Well, I hope you save some for the rest of us.  Hermione may
want an interview, though."

   "She would love her," Harry promised with a forlorn smile, "Ivy more so.
Just ah...  don't tell her I happen to be in another dimension right now. I
don't think she'll react well to the news."

   "Okay," Luna nodded, her eyes naturally wide and piercing.  "What should
I tell her?"

   Harry frowned in concentration.  "Tell her I'm in...  America.  A city
called Gotham, apparently," Harry noted, remembering the school Harley went
to, and the GPD letters on the Police Car, putting the two together.  "I
haven't managed to find Sirius yet.  I'm starting to think it took him
somewhere else.  He doesn't have his mirror, either.  The veil is the best
chance we have, I suppose."

   Luna nodded, her radish earrings shaking with her.  "Arthur is now
paying off his life debt to Tonks and got Bill to help our team.  We're
using the Death Eaters we captured yesterday - Nine, in case you were
wondering - And we're trying to see where they lead."

   Harry raised an eyebrow.  "You mean - "

   Luna beamed.  "We're pushing them through the veil with a rope attached.
Only Rabastan LeStrange has been sent through so far, with a steel cable.
The cable snapped." Her smile faded.  "We've got a bit of work ahead of
us."

   "It's alright, Luna," Harry smiled gently at the quirky blonde.  "I
believe in you.  Who knows; if I'm lucky, I might find a wizard
civilization and use their veil."

   Luna giggled.  "I don't think that will work that way, but please inform
us if you happen to find and subsequently shag another version of me."

   "Will do, Luna.  Actually..." He shot his hand at the door, and it
opened to find a stumbling teen, quickly catching her balance.  "I want you
to meet someone.  The nice, nosy stranger I told you about.  As you've
overheard, this is Luna."

   The shamefaced blonde rubbed her arm awkwardly as she glanced at Harry,
who looked amused.  She smiled embarrassingly at the blonde.  "Er, hi,
Luna. Sorry."

   Luna's pixie nose wrinkled cutely.  "It's okay.  If Harry didn't want
you to listen, you wouldn't have heard a word.  My name is Luna Lovegood.
I'd shake your hand, but I'd reckon it would hurt if we tried."

   Harley chuckled nervously at the girl in the large shard of broken
mirror.  "My name is Harleen.  Harleen Quinzel."

   "Do your friends call you Harley?" Luna wondered, her always present
smile comforting.

   Harleen nodded with a giggle.  "Yeah, actually - they do."

   "Good," she nodded to herself.  "I wish I had a good nickname.  Children
are so cruel sometimes.  You have a beautiful name."

   "Thank you," Harley blushed.  "If you don't mind me asking, what was
your nickname?"

   "Loony," she told her, her smile still present.  "Though it's been a
while since I've heard that title, I don't think I ever had much to
complain about, in comparison to Harry's childhood."

   "He told me," Harley informed her, and her new friend raised her
eyebrows in surprise.

   "Really?  He told you something that personal?  Harry?  Could you please
pass me over?"

   "I know a girl-talk warning when I hear it," Harry muttered, getting up
from the girls' king-sized bed and, concentrating, rubbed the sides of the
mirror until it was smoothed down.  Harley marveled at his feat of magic,
but Harry was busy staring at Luna's picture.  "I'll talk to you later
tonight, then?" At Luna's nod, he handed over the mirror to Harley, who
took it with trembling hands.  "It's alright.  It won't bite.  Well, this
one, anyway.  Just look into the mirror."

   "This is...  really cool," Harley commented in wonder, watching the
impeccably clear picture of Luna Lovegood, from her cool grey irises to the
dirty blonde strands of hair.  "Magic is /cool/."

   "It is, isn't it?" Harry grinned, and kissed Harley on the forehead
before he walked out into the hallway, not looking back.  Why not give them
more to talk about?

   He closed the door behind him, and turned to see that Ivy was leaning
against the wall, her head cocked to the side in confusion.  "You still
keep in touch with your ex-girlfriends?"

   Harry shook his head.  "Of course not.  Luna isn't my ex-girlfriend. 
She's one of my best friends.  We have an arrangement together.  I'm
certain she's telling Harley about it right now."

   "You have this specific...  arrangement with several of these girls?"
Harry nodded unashamedly.  "You have a /harem/ at your age?"

   "Hermione insists that we call it a mutual love affair; I just happen to
be the only guy in it."

   "And all of these girls just flock to you?" Her mind couldn't comprehend
why so many women would want to...  well, she very easily /could/ imagine
it, but he didn't /flash/ them all for them to want to be with him, did he?

   "Not exactly.  It started with a small circle of friends.  Hermione,
Luna, Padma, and Susan.  It just...  grew, from there."

   "So...  they flock to you."

   Harry shrugged.  "If that's the way you want to see it.  I love every
single one of my girls, and I'd die for them.  I have plenty of money, and
I have a very voracious appetite that pissed off Hermione to no end, and we
outsourced to the most trustworthy people I know.  Neither of us regret it,
and I don't think we ever will." He stepped closer to Ivy.  "If this is the
part where you kick me out, I understand.  I wish you would give me a
chance."

   "A chance?" Her lips quirked.  "Because you somehow turned a girl,
Harry, that doesn't mean - "

   "Twenty."

   She stared at him strangely.  "...Pardon?"

   "Twenty girls.  That I know of.  As it turns out, males are quite
incompetent, lacking in financial support and in numbers, and a fair amount
of girls have turned to each other in times of need.  Pretty soon, when
that's all they know, they get hooked.  Sometimes, they have each other as
a first choice.  Unfortunately, lesbians are taboo in my world, and highly
punishable.  We have a very small population, after all." He stepped
closer, and she absently licked her lips.  "Fortunately for them, I grant
protection to anyone who needs it.  I started doing that when I was twelve,
and I met a couple named Daphne and Tracey.  The word spread, and now,
three years later, I have an /empire/ of girls that I would /die/ for; as
they would for me."

   Ivy found herself pressed against the wall.  Harry's hands smoothly left
his pocket and lightly skimmed at her right side.  "So you force yourself
on /your/ girls, then?" She kept her voice even.

   "Am I forcing myself on you?" Harry muttered, his eyes searching her
own.

   "/Yes/," she practically growled, and before she could even think, it
was over.  Harry's hand had left her side, but his grin never wavered as he
backed away from her body.

   She controlled her breathing.  "So I guess you give all the girls a
choice?  Is that what you're trying to convey here?"

   Harry's hands returned to his pockets.  "I always give them a choice.  I
give everyone a choice." His eyes glanced at her top, her nipples pointing
through the flimsy black material.  "I gave Harley a choice."

   She quickly crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  "What the hell
caused this?  This attitude didn't happen this morning."

   "Yes, I remember this morning," he said quickly, and it was a struggle
for her not to look away in embarrassment.  "And I know that nothing's
changed.  I have /every/ intention of returning the favor, and you plan on
letting out your sexual tension on /someone/.  At this point, you don't
care whether it's me or Harley."

   Her eyes narrowed.  "What makes you say that?"

   "Should I go down the list?  You've been fidgeting since I came onto
you. You're not wearing a bra, and for someone who's indifferent about me,
you have a lot of questions about my choice of lifestyle." His eyes went to
her right hip.  "I've never been in your lab, so I suppose you'd have a lab
coat or an apron to cover your shorts and tank top; so I won't question
your choice of dress.  But the vial in your pocket..."

   "What?  What about it?"

   Harry hmm'ed to himself for a moment, before he shrugged.  "Nothing. 
Thank you.  Unless you decide on taking it back, I'm grateful." He leaned
against the wall.  "So.  I guess we wait for her to finish."

   "I suppose so."

   He crossed his arms and closed his eyes.  "Alright then."

   Damn her curiosity.  "One more question." He hmmed again.  "What makes
you think I'd expect you to return the favor?"

   "I didn't expect anything.  It's just something I like to do.  It's only
fair, after all."

   "Really?" She licked her lips.  His confidence exuded from his seemingly
lazy form, but she saw his tense arms, his stiff legs.

   He wanted her.  Badly.

   "If I told you I could read your mind," Harry muttered, his eyes still
closed, "I would be blushing at the images I'm getting right now.  Then I'd
give you the offer to make them all come true.  Think about it.  We're both
sharing Harley.  Why not...  reap the benefits?" His bright green eyes
opened to meet the same green eyes, curious.

   "You can read minds?"

   "No.  But if I could; I imagine that's what I'd see."

   "Aren't you a charmer." Her smile was predatory.  "With such an inflated
ego.  You must think you're a god."

   Harry chuckled, and she shivered a little when she heard him crescendo
into a soft laugh.  A good shiver.  "That's funny," he grinned, his eyes
glinting in the hall light.  "I've heard that before.  I didn't have a
reply then, either." He uncrossed his arms as he pushed off the wall, and
the two stared at each other, his amused smirk and her appraising smile. 
"I've suffered through too much humility in my life to think that of
myself. Though I wouldn't be a /man/ if you thought of me as one.  I'd be
something better."

   "Please," Ivy muttered, her eyes shimmering.  "The moment you felt my
touch, and you took another breath, I considered you to be so much more
than a /man/."

   "Who has the god-complex here?" Harry queried, stepping closer to the
slightly taller woman.  "Because, Pamela, it sounds to me as if you deem me
worthy of being with your lover." His hand reached up to her side once
again.

   "Not my choice," she breathed, his touch quickening her heartbeat. 
"It's Harley's."

   "Yes, it is." His hand stilled at her side, and his smirk disappeared.
"And now it's my turn to prove I'm worthy of /you/."

   Before he could bring his hand up to her face, Ivy leaned forward and
locked her lips with his, which he immediately reciprocated.  He lifted his
hand to cup her cheek, and wrap his arm firmly around her back.

   She quickly found herself backed into the wall, lost in the embrace with
the young wizard.  She moaned as their tongues danced together, and for the
first time, she found herself losing in a battle for dominance.

   As his hands slipped under her black tank-top, his thumb circling around
her right pointed nipple that had been /aching/ for the past twenty
minutes, she didn't particularly care about dominance.

   Her hands wandered, and her fingers slid along the hidden muscles under
his shirt.  To be against such a hard body was a completely different
feeling, and her hands trembled nervously.

   Harry pinched her nipple, and she let out an unladylike grunt, drowned
out by Harry's lips, and she was quite sure he felt a slight hint of a
smirk.

   As she tasted Harry's mouth for the second time, she could faintly see
why Harleen, and so many other girls, fell victim to his talents.

   But not her.

   At least, not this quickly.

   Well, not within the first 24 hours of meeting the kid.

   She let out a soft, breathy moan as Harry's fingers slipped into the
waistband of her black lace panties, and brushed against her bare slit. 
She squeezed harder against his waist, and found that his form didn't budge
a bit.

   Her clit throbbed angrily when his rough fingers - rougher than she was
used to - wiggled teasingly against her hood.

   She was feeling an entirely new plethora of emotions, and as she
approached her first orgasm, she made a mental note to thank her Harleen
after she spanked her dear ass red for getting her into this.

   ------------------------

   Harleen sat on her bed, pondering, the now seemingly-normal, perfectly
reflective mirror beside her.

   Their conversation was rather...  interesting.

   Pulling the wand from the pocket from her jeans, she eyed the slim wood
closely, twirling it in her fingers.  It was so plain.  So ordinary.  To
believe that an entire civilization thrived on this, that an evolution of
humankind needed this to live everyday life...

   ...And that Harry was the only person in their world that would simply
discard such an instrument, ready to show what he could truly do without a
/handicap/.

   /"A Handicap?"/

   /Luna nodded seriously.  "A wand is a wizard or witch's focus.  They use
a wand to concentrate their magic onto a single task or target.  In the
last few hundred years or so, its been the only way anyone can cast magic.
He's supposed to need that.  Any other magic that comes out of us is
considered /accidental/, or /vastly/ underpowered.  Make sure he holds onto
it."/

   /Her eyes flicked to the wand in her pocket, half of it sticking
upwards. He didn't seem to want it back./

   /"Wait." She stared at Luna skeptically.  "Why are you telling me this?
Why are you exposing his vulnerability to me?"/

   /"Simple," Luna nodded to herself.  "I was testing you.  Harry has had a
sixth sense about people worthy of his trust.  You've obviously fit that
bill.  If he trusts you, then I trust you, and I wanted to be sure.  Anyone
else would've taken my warning and not comment on it.  He can't have us
watching after him, so I leave it to you.  Whether you decide to keep him
for a bit longer, until we get this ruddy portal figured out, or you two
part ways, I want you to make sure he stays out of trouble.  It tends to
find him quite easily."/

   /Harleen nodded resolutely.  "I know the feeling.  We'll watch after
him. I promise."/

   /Luna's silvery eyes carried her smile as she clapped.  "Goody!  Now, a
bit of advice - don't be afraid to try to form a bond with him.  One day,
you three will love each other like the two of you always have, and it'll
happen sooner than you think.  It's already starting, and through the bond,
I've felt a pull towards you that I haven't felt since Hermione.  I can see
you, and though you have no magic, I know that you felt the pull, too.  So,
I must stress this.  It is possible to love two people.  So much, that it's
impossible to decide.  And you love him.  I know you do.  Almost as much as
you love her."/

   /Harley gaped like a fish at her seemingly prophetic proclamation, and
opened her lips to protest./

   /Then she thought of something./

   /"Wait." She tilted her head.  "Who?"/

   /"Who, what?"/

   /"Almost as much as I love /whom/?"/

   /"Oh.  I thought that would be fairly obvious."/

   /"Enlighten me, please."/

   /"Pamela Isley, of course."/

   /"...I never told you her name.  I've listened to the whole
conversation. Harry /never/ told you her name."/

   /"Of course not, silly.  We've only spoken for minutes.  Harry barely
had any time to mention her name yet.  The wrackspurts didn't need to tell
me.  I Saw it."/

   /"You saw it?  You saw my girlfriend?"/

   /Luna nodded, tucking her hair behind her ear.  "I See things.  I'm a
Seer.  I See the good; I See the bad.  Before I met Harry, it was very
helpful for finding misplaced clothes and items that wander away from my
trunk.  Of all the things I've Seen in my life, for Harry to befriend me
was an unexpected event that I'm glad I never saw, because I'm really sure
I would've scared the poor boy off.  I've known him for four years, and I
don't need to be a seer to know when he's smitten." Her grey eyes focused
on Harley's blue.  "But being a Seer told me who he was smitten /with/.  I
expected to See you.  I didn't expect to see the both of you."/

   /"You saw...  the both of us?" Harley furrowed her brows, her mind
struggling to understand the scope of magic itself.  "You saw -
/everything/?"/

   /"No.  I can't choose what I See.  If you two have done anything, I
didn't See that, and there's no guarantee that I will.  But this morning,
all I could See were two faces.  Yours and Pamela's.  I heard snippets of
conversations.  He tied you up, Pamela swallowed his seed, you hugged him
in the shower, and you two introduced yourselves and told your story.  I'm
pretty sure it didn't happen in that order, and that's how Seeing is. 
Unpredictable and random."/

   /Harleen refrained from commenting.  It happened /exactly/ in that
order. In hindsight, maybe not the /best/ way a relationship should start.
"So how do you know?  How I feel about him?"/

   /"You aren't denying it.  So you either already do, or it's something
you thought of."/

   /"That's not the point," she sighed, frustrated.  "How did you know?"/

   /She gave an airy smile, and Harley thought it was a smile that fit her
perfectly.  "He's Harry.  I just assumed that time."/

   She shook her head and carefully placed the wand on the nightstand
beside the bed, making sure it was in a place it couldn't roll off.  She
needed to go find Ivy.  She would want to hear about some of this.

   A sad sigh escaped her lips.  She just knew she had taken too long
talking to Luna, and her girlfriend had changed her mind about Harry's
double-team oil massage, and anything that may follow.

   She hopped up out of bed, and she headed to the door with a slight skip
in her step, determined to find the two and bring them together.  Something
about Luna made her want to trust her words, and she wanted to take the
opportunity she had and have her favorite people make up.

   Turning the knob, she opened the door to what was easily the hottest
scene she had ever witnessed.

   Pamela gasped as her fingers scraped at the wall behind her, her
breathing ragged.  Sweat nipped at her pale green skin, her shimmery red
hair plastering to said skin, her eyes shut tight.  She heaved a breath.

   /Fuck/, he was good.

   She let loose another moan as his upper lip swiped along her peeking
bump, and her breasts shook at the impact as her entire body shook for a
moment with pleasure.

   Harry, having none of it, grabbed his new lover by the waist and held on
tightly.  His tongue explored the depths that no man had explored before,
and it began slithering as he reached a place that that no man could ever
reach.  She thrashed and wiggled in his grasp, but he had a firm grip,
tonguing at her moist cavern.

   She clenched her teeth when Harry reached her g-spot, a spot that was
only reached with Harley's long, slim fingers, now being continuously
assaulted by his slick, rugged tongue, scraping back and forth across her
most sensitive spot.

   Her neck pulsed as she forced herself not to cry out loud, her teeth
gritting as only a long, slow moan escaped her lips.

   Harry's index finger prodded against her back hole, and she opened her
eyes.

   As soon as she could gasp out a protest, it died as Harley's lips
suddenly pressed against her own.  She kept her eyes wide in shock as her
girlfriend took advantage of her open mouth and tongued her oral cavity,
and she wildly began to paw at her breasts.

   There was a tell when Harley was particularly horny, and Ivy knew it. 
The blonde half-envied her D-Cup tits, and while she never particularly
wanted them, because they would limit the mobility she had, she could
appreciate them.  A lot.  Which was why whenever she couldn't take it
anymore, her sensitive nipples were Harleen's Number 1 and 2 targets. 
There were a few times when before Harley's fingers could dip any lower
than her navel, her legs already had rivulets of her feminine fluids
streaming down her long legs.

   Harley knew her bountiful tits like the back of her hand, and she proved
that by rolling her nipples betwixt her fingers /ever/-so-slightly, knowing
just the right amount for She gasped in surprise as Harry's tongue slid
outside of her womanhood and attached his lips to her clitoris.  He sucked
and frenched at her hood with a fierceness that had her thrashing.

   She made shuddering gasps, and Harley responded in kind, her hands
roaming the top half of her lover's green body, her hands grazing against
her sweat-slicked skin, her pale bare breasts pressing against her own.

   She didn't even know Harley had taken off her shirt.  She hoped she
hadn't been watching the entire time, witnessing her fall to Harry's sexual
prowess.

   She gasped into Harley's mouth as Harry blew into her pussy, and her
hands wrapped around her blond lover, her fingers grazing Harley's subtle
muscles and quickly developing curves.

   Harley finally broke her kiss against Ivy and smiled a goofy grin.  And
Ivy gave back her own contented smile.

   She leaned down to kiss her dark green areola, and Ivy moaned at the
contact, arching her back beautifully, leaning her head back to the
ceiling, seeing spots.

   When Harley switched to her other breast, Harry slid two fingers easily
inside her tunnel, piercing into her for the second time with his digits.

   Pamela screamed passionately to the ceiling as she shook in orgasm, her
voice echoing through the hallway and the rest of the greenhouse.  Harley
lightly bit her nipple and pinched the other one, while Harry quickly
increased the speed of his pumping digits, his tongue still swirling around
her pulsing clit.  Her juices quickly covered his hand, and the extra
lubrication was almost needed to keep up with his furious pace.  When she
couldn't scream anymore, she moaned breathily, her legs quaking with the
strength of her cumming uncontrollably.

   Ivy hissed at the sudden absence of Harry's fingers, before moaning at
the cooling sensation of the air that hit between her legs.  Her knees
trembled again, but her girlfriend quickly caught her with an arm around
her waist.  "You okay, Red?  Did we break you?"

   Ivy rolled her head to her shoulder and kissed her neck, making her
giggle.  She lifted her head up and mumbled something unintelligible.

   "I don't know what you said, Red," Harley soothed her as Harry slid out
from under the two.  "But I'm guessing that the massage went well?"

   "I knew that's why you had the vial and not Harley," Harry smirked, and
Ivy gave them both a half-glare.  She relented, and finally settled for
smiling at the two.

   "You're both going to be the death of me, you know that?"

   Harley quickly lifted her suspiciously light girlfriend and carried her
in her arms bridal style.  "Hell of a way to go, if you ask me."

   "No one asked you," she muttered, and wrapped her hands around the young
blonde's neck.  "Though I think I'll keep that in mind."

   She placed a chaste kiss on Pamela's rosy lips.  "Thanks, Pammy," she
whispered against her nose, lightly tickling her.  She giggled cutely, a
sound she had never really heard before from the smoky, sensual voice of
Poison Ivy.

   "The things I do for you, Harley," she whispered.  She glanced back at
Harry, who was watching the couple interact with interest.  "That may have
been the most fun."

   Harry raised his hand, and pointedly looked at Ivy as his tongue swiped
across his index finger.  She shivered when she saw his tongue strike out
and swirl around the tip, before retreating back into his mouth.  "The
pleasure was mine."

   Harley slowly began setting Ivy's feet to the floor.  "Can you stand?"

   She rolled her eyes.  "You make it sound like I fainted.  I can stand,
dear."

   "Good." She leaned Ivy against the wall and let her go.  "Because I want
you to watch this the /right/ way."

   Ivy watched as her girlfriend strut over to Harry and lifted his hand
again.  She allowed Ivy to get a good glimpse of his glistening fingers
before her small tongue peeked out and drug against his calloused fingers.

   "Mmmm...  watermelon," Harley giggled, before she wrapped her lips
around Harry's digits.

   Harry and Ivy watched in stunned fascination as the blue-eyed girl
sucked noisily at his fingers, wetting his digits with her saliva before
licking it off.

   Her tongue reached the sensitive spot where his fingers met his palm
when Harry withdrew his hand from the hot confines of her mouth.  He
sneakily slid his hand behind her head and smashed his lips to hers, and
she happily reciprocated with a moan and wrapped her arms around his neck.

   A pair of heavy breasts pressed against her naked back, and Harleen
squeaked in surprise as her jeans were shoved down.  "No panties," Ivy
muttered against her ear, her lips nipping against her lobe.  Her fingers
slid against her soft pink folds, and Harley broke her kiss to moan.  "You
really are a little slut, baby..." she murmured, bringing her hands up to
her breasts to cup them.  She glanced down at Harry, who was bent at his
knees, staring straight at Harley's hairless cunny.  "/Our/ slut."

   The green-eyed wizard smiled at the redhead, who grinned back. 
Harleen's eyes were fluttered closed, oblivious to the exchange.  "Our
slut," he whispered, before kissing the apex of her thighs.

   Harley whimpered.

   Maybe these two /were/ going to be the death of her?

   She shuddered as Ivy nipped at her ear once more, then slid her hand
down to strum at her clit as Harry's tongue slithered deep inside of her.

   She let out a contented sigh.  /Hell/ of a way to go.

   -------------------------

   Author's Note: Next chapter, the three will actually leave the home and
they give Harry a tour of Gotham City.  You know, for those still
interested in some kind of story.
   For more, please go to http://rihaansfics.com/Adult