Harry Potter learned early in life not to question anything. Accept it and move on. So learning from Kreacher that Sirius and Remus dated while at Hogwarts was like water over duck feathers. It didn’t even phase him anymore, really. But that idea stuck in his head. Wizards, apparently, were more progressive than Muggles in one aspect alone. Homosexuality. As long as there has an heir, which was possible with potions, you could marry anyone you liked. Marriage isn’t marriage in the Wizarding World, however. It was bonding; it was unbreakable.
Around the time he wrapped his head around the fact that he might like blokes, he only liked Ginny as a sister, and Draco Malfoy was not always a prat and had a nice arse, Harry realized he wasn’t getting older. Ron matured into adulthood nicely; Hermione stayed bookish, but now had style and grace; Neville lost his baby fat and became the Lord Longbottom his grandmother so hoped he would be; Luna got taller, but was overall the same seemingly innocent, insightful Loony Lovegood they all knew and loved. Harry, well, Harry stayed the same. He might’ve passed for a twenty something, but he knew didn’t look a day over the Final Battle.
So, he gathered up those dreaded Hallows, and meditated. He did so, without stop, for three days. His mind, of course, went off into tangents, as it was wont to do. But he remained primarily focused on finding the truth. That was when the ghosts came. There were four, just as there’d been in the woods that night.
It wasn’t for them to say, they’d said, for they didn’t know about things like this. But they were to keep him company. Not permanently, they explained. Just visits. They looked on him with sad eyes, and he knew. Knew that he couldn’t stay in the Wizarding world. That he’d have to leave everyone. Because Hermione would research, Ron wouldn’t understand, Neville would give him a plant for comfort and research with ‘Mione, and Luna would- she would probably be most understanding, amazingly. The Weasley clan couldn’t know. They would look at him more differently than they already did as the Man Who Conquered.
Then, Death showed up. Literally.
‘Harry Potter, Master. You require knowledge. Knowledge is power.’ Death pressed two ghostly pale and cold fingers to his forehead, making him pass out.
When he came to, he had more in his head than ever before. More than Hermione could ever hope to understand. It was even password protected- all in Parseltongue. He just knew things now. Who was next on Death’s list. What the Veil Sirius fell into really was. What being Master of Death meant. He lives, because Death does. He could choose one in his entire lifetime to keep- a mate. So much more. Too much. A headache set in.
‘You will have to meditate, Master. Before you can accept your role in the universe.’ Death explained. ‘Then, you will go where you feel you are needed. I will provide suggestions.’
It was a lot to take in, truly. But now, with what he knew ...he already decided where he would go. “Wesen. Grimms; Reapers. I’ll go there. Those Royals upset the balance.”
Death nodded at him. ‘Wise choice, Master.’
“But first, I need to organize this new information.”
Harry appeared to find a crime scene. In his cloak, it was easy to sneak into the house. Passing a decapitated head and the body that matched it, he walked in to find Officer Wu frozen in shock and horror. Honestly, wasn’t this Grimm supposed to be a cop? He just left his books out for anyone to find? Rookie mistake.
“Obliviate,” he whispered. While Wu was dazed, he summoned the books and hid them under the cloak. He had to find the Grimm. No longer needing a wand was helpful, of course. He simply did a Point Me spell in his head and teleported to the location. Teleportation was new, too and much appreciated as he hated most types of wizarding instant travel.
Nick Burkhardt didn’t know what to do. He’d just been told he was no longer a Grimm, the Captain is dying, the wedding masses wanted to kill Trubel, and he was pretty sure he’d lost Juliet. A mysterious man popping- literally- into the back seat was not something he needed right now.
“Hey.” The man seemed wildly amused at our reactions, which were understandable, honestly.
“Who are you!?” Trubel yelled, probably having enough of people trying to kill her for the day.
“Oh, no one. A friend, I guess. You’re lucky I got here when I did, though. Wu knew where Adalind stashed that rotten potion and I made him forget seeing these.” He pulled out the Grimm notebooks that Trubel snatched up, guiltily.
“I was in a hurry,” she mumbled.
“Yes, well.” He looked her up and down as if sizing her up. “Anyway, The captain will be fine, he’s not going to stay on the List. We have to get you that drink before it becomes permanent. I’ll drive.”
The wheel suddenly jerked in Hank’s hands. They made an abrupt turn and started going the way opposite the hospital.
“Wait! Made him forget? Not on the list? How are you driving? What are you?” Nick demanded of the man. His green eyes pierced him, down to his soul. It was unsettling. He turned to Trubel in askance.
“I don’t see anything. He’s not Wesen,” Trubel answered.
“Of course I’m not. But you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I was. Let alone who I was. In this ‘verse or reality I’m not even real. It’s exciting, really!” His eyes sparkled mischievously. “Fascinating to read about some Muggle’s idea of what went down in my life. Mostly it wasn’t accurate, but who am I to judge. She can’t have written every little thing. The movies though...don’t even get me started on those! The actor was all wrong, I’m telling you. Didn’t even have green eyes! Absurd.”
“Okay, what?” Trubel questioned. She’d been around crazy people before, but if she was buying what he was selling, that would make him- No, no absolutely not.
“Ah, she’s figured it out. I like her. Theresa as a name doesn’t do you justice. Trubel is much better for you.” Nick was hopelessly lost, not even trying to understand anything besides the fact he knew where to get the cure for what Adalind did to him. Question was, did he want it?
All this time, hunting things. He is losing Juliet because of it. But she’d be better away. Aunt Marie was right, this isn’t the kind of world she should be forced to live in. But now, could he go with her? Leave the Wesen community? He had two keys now, that he couldn’t give to his mom while she was on the run with the Chosen One or whatever. It was his job to protect them, and he would have to do it even if he wasn’t a Grimm. Better to be a Grimm and be able to see them coming than to not be one and have the keys fall into the wrong hands.
He turned to Juliet, who’d been watching him think. She smiled sadly, understanding his decision. He became a cop for a reason and he couldn’t just walk away from all this.
“Good, now that’s settled, we’re here.” The man spoke up from the back before the car stopped and he was suddenly outside, waiting impatiently for them.
“What is here?” Nick asked the black-haired man. They were at a storage facility. They all followed the man into the place. He seemed to know where he was going. He stopped at # 22 and opened it.
“This was Adalind’s mothers. Her grimoire was left here and Adalind found it. Nasty bit of potions works she did. I’ve always hated potions. Though, I’m probably biased toward them seeing how I was taught. Here we are, lucky she left it. Just drink some of this.”
“Drink that?” Nick was skeptical. He didn’t know this guy and he expected him to trust him? Not likely.
“Honestly, if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead, trust that. Trubel, does this look the same as what the Captain gave you?” Nick was getting really annoyed that he still didn’t know this man’s name.
“It looks like it, yeah. Still, who are you? A name. I’m Trubel, you are?”
The man smiled. He really did like her. Nick was too frazzled, too like how he was while at school. He liked it too, sure, but Trubel seemed to be calm about anything she came across. Like how he was now.
“You can call me Jamie. We’ll see about later once you drink this.” He produced a bottle out of nowhere and filled it. Nick slowly took it from him and sniffed it. His face scrunched up.
“Best to get it over with. I’ve found that gulping potions down is easier on the aftertaste. It will taste horrid, I’m afraid. Most potions do,” Jamie explained, understanding and sympathy written across his face.
Nick decided to risk it, seeing how if he died there were all these witnesses, one namely being his police partner. Gulping it down, it really did taste disgusting. Afterwards, he didn’t feel any different.
“How do we know if it worked?” Nick asked Jamie. He smirked.
“It worked. You’ll see. You should go clear up that mess Trubel left at your house. Good luck with that. I have a child to see about.” Jamie promptly disappeared.
“Child? You don’t think-?” Hank spoke up.
“Probably. But my mom can take care of herself- and so can that baby.”
“I don’t know what you all are talking about, but guys. If what he was saying made sense to anyone else, say something. Because- and I know this is going to sound weird, I think we just met Harry Potter.” Trubel looked at them. She was used to people looking at her like she was crazy, but she was pretty sure she was right. She may not have had a normal childhood, but every kid in her generation knew the basics of Harry Potter’s life.
They all stared at each other, not sure what to believe about the new character that’d been introduced into their lives.