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"
The two girls felt shame at the implications of their words; making sure that Harry got to their world, away from Gotham, away from the sweet girl that seemed to attach herself to the boy they love.
"We made a statement tonight, in Gotham, Harley," Harry spoke clearly, his hand squeezing hers. "What was it?"
"That you're here," Harley said with uncertainty, almost as a question.
"I made three promises in that statement. I am here, yes, and together, we can make whatever change you want in Gotham to happen. The outline of that can be hammered out whenever we see fit; we have the time. My second promise was that I'm here to stay. When Hermione and Luna figure out how the hell I got here, it wouldn't take much more to figure out how to travel in-between. My third promise was to you and Ivy." He held her tighter to himself, and she cherished his embrace. "I'm here to stay for a reason. When I said I loved you two. That wasn't a statement. That was a promise; a hopeful promise. That this relationship might grow."
Harley's white teeth glimmered in her smile as she wiped her wet eyes. "I hope it grows, too," she whispered.
The four sat in companionable silence, Harley and Harry getting comfort from each other, Hermione and Luna contemplating the character that is Harleen Frances Quinzel, and how in such a short time, she had fallen completely and utterly in love with Harry James Potter. And how she didn't even know it yet.
"You know what this means, right?" the green/redhead asked him as she tangled their fingers together below her chin.
"Hm?"
"If you break our hearts, we'll kill you."
"If I break your hearts, it'd be because I'm already dead."
Harley quirked an eyebrow, her lips curled. "You used that line before, didn't you?"
"Only once; with Hermione's father. After he showed me his gun collection."
"He did that?" Hermione asked, mortified. "I'm going to... wait. He has a gun collection?"
Harry shook his head. "He did. For a week. Borrowed them from a friend, just so he could use it on me. It all fell apart when I was expressing interest in the types of guns, and I ended up knowing more than he did. It was kind of a bonding moment when I started teaching him about it."
"And he wasn't worried about how his dear daughter was with a boy who had an affinity for guns?"
"Antiques, mostly," Harry defended himself, "And no. Man's got to protect his own, y'know."
Hermione scoffed. "We've saved each other's arses so many times over the years, Potter. I'm hardly a damsel."
"His words, not mine. Wasn't going to point out that by then, we've been saving each other and the girls to a point where it's almost become a business."
"Potter's Protection, Incorporated?" Harley quipped, and the two laughed.
"I like it," Luna commented from the side. "We'd have to get that copyrighted."
Hermione blushed. "It sounds more like a company that sells condoms, to be honest!"
Pamela sauntered into a room with a large pot of coffee and tea, and found everyone in a considerably better mood. "Did I miss something?" She questioned the room with amusement on her features.
Harry shook his head. "No, not really. We're just about to get started, actually." He threw the mirror out in front of him, and Harley and Ivy watched in fascination as it glimmered and shimmered brightly, before landing straight on its edge, as wide and tall as the maroon sofa he and Harley were sitting on. For a glimmer, Hermione and Luna's faces were the size of Pamela's entire body, before Hermione made a sudden movement with her mirror. In a flash, the three saw the entire view of Hermione and Luna sitting together on the loveseat in what Harry knew was the Gryffindor Common Room.
"Luna? What time is it?"
Luna checked her watch. "It's three-fifteen."
"It's about midnight here," Harleen informed them.
"Good. More than four hours until classes ends. Plenty of time. Where should we begin?"
"The costumes would be a nice conversation starter."
"Luna!" Hermione looked scandalized. "Don't insult someone's customs! We don't know how their world works!"
"It's not their custom," she explained smoothly. They're national criminals, and that's their disguises."
"I..." now Hermione looked mortified. She blushed heavily. "I-I'm sorry, I just assumed..."
"You've never met anyone from our world," Pamela waved her off. "You'd have no idea what we are. When Harry saw that we were criminals, and Harley mentioned that she went to school, he assumed that she went to a school for criminals."
"Not my brightest moment," Harry muttered, scratching the back of his head with his free hand, and the girls giggled. Ivy took the time to lay out the mugs of coffee the vine followed her with and set the coffee next to them on the arm of the sofa.
"Well, it explains their outfits," Hermione spoke, "but what about you, Harry?"
Harry looked down at his slashed-through crimson shirt and black cotton jeans. "Something I thought up while we were out. It's not permanent, but it'll give me a unique look for a while."
"And you're okay with the idea of him being a criminal?"
"In our world, Harry's a hero. And so far, he doesn't get a lick of respect from the public, or the Ministry. If Voldemort truly is dead, then nothing can stand in our way of our takeover of Britain. We're criminals in our own right - in sheep's wool."
Luna smiled at Hermione's words. "It's quite a stark contrast to wearing a costume and making declarations of war with a city."
"I like the costumes," Harley pouted. "They're flashy, and people view you with fear. Jesters will be more feared by children than mimes, or even clowns." Her free hand rubbed up and down his long sleeve. "And I like this look, even though I didn't get to design it. It's got just the right amount of spandex."
Ivy boldly stepped forward and pressed her hand to the material, her fingers skimming against his side, and Harry tensed lightly. "Smooth," she whispered, and winked.
"Somebody's done a little soul-searching in the kitchen," Harleen grinned.
Ivy shrugged, before patting his firm abdomen. "I started thinking about it as I practically felt everyone's eyes on my ass. Then I thought about how Harley and I confessed to each other. Never waste a moment, right?"
Harleen's smile met Ivy's. "Not a single second, baby."
Ivy squeezed into Harry's other side on the couch, mindful of the tray of coffee- and teapots and mugs on her other side. "So, I guess I'm part of your group. I'd say that it was more for Harleen's benefit, but to quote her when she decided to run off with me - 'Call me curious.'"
"We'd hope so," Hermione started, before conjuring a glass. "Aguamenti," she muttered, and the glass filled on its own. "We've got a bit to talk about. Normally, we're not supposed to tell you anything about us, but it's safe to say that you're outside the Ministry's reach. So, where should we begin?"
"How about from the beginning?" Ivy suggested, before pouring herself a cup of tea and leaning against Harry's side. "With details?"
Harry settled into his seat between the two beautiful girls, and they both snuggled closer. Hermione and Luna did the same, the blonde's head resting against the brunette's shoulder while they wrapped their arms around each other.
And then the epic tale regarding the life of Harry James Potter began.
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