Author's Note: This is going to be an epic tale. And I hope that you will enjoy the ride.
Keeping in mind that this is the end of Harry's fifth year. And the ages around him are going to reflect that. This story is rated M. Draw your own conclusions. There's your obligatory warning, now have fun.
Still, I should say that it's not all smut. It's going to get pretty deep around fifth chapter or so, more than I ever intended it to be, but it all worked out.
I hope you enjoy: Harry and Harley.
Chapter One: The Best Medicine
Harry stumbled and slipped on the cobblestone ground below him and, not even pausing to wince at the pain, scrambled to his knees. His eyes glanced around wildly at the strangeness surrounding him.
There wasn't really anything strange, per se, but it was quite… odd.
He was outside, now. Moreover, it was nighttime. He had only arrived at the ministry an hour earlier, and it was fairly late in the afternoon, but the summer sun usually set at around nine.
Harry glanced at his broken, but useable, wristwatch. 6:39. He held his wand tightly in his hand, his breath staggering.
This wasn't where the ministry was. In fact, he wasn't sure he was in London anymore.
Sirens sounded in the distance. Harry, having grown up in London, knew immediately that something was off about the siren. It was unlike anything he had ever heard before.
He didn't have time to think. Mere seconds ago, he had been chasing his Godfather, and now, he was nowhere in sight.
The green-eyed wizard furrowed his brow at his surroundings. In the distance, his keen eyes spotted a large 'W' on a skyscraper, and an even larger, oddly shaped tower. It was unlike anything he had heard of or seen in his lifetime.
He sighed to himself, frustrated. "Bloody hell, Sirius. What've you gotten yourself into?" He stood up and checked his surroundings once more. Nothing was coming to him.
One thing was for certain, as he looked up at the streetlights and the bright neon glows – he was certainly nowhere near any wizards. He slid his wand up his sleeve, more thankful than ever for the holster Moody gave him the past Christmas, and ran his hand through his dirty, sweat-soaked hair.
He looked like he had just gone through a war, and he did. It all happened so quickly – it took him a moment for the memories of the battle that just took place to come to him.
By the time the Order had arrived, everything was relatively under control. There were a few small panics – from Harry smashing the prophecy orb into the side of Crabbe's head when he made a lewd comment about Luna, to a still brain-addled Ron sending a badly-aimed cutting curse at Lucius's wand, instead hitting his throat.
It was just them versus Bellatrix, Goyle, Rockwood, Dolohov, Nott and Macnair. The best of Voldemort's Death Eaters vs. the entire Order. For all intents and purposes, the odds were on the side of the light.
Then Sirius began taunting her. And then she struck him through the veil.
Harry shook his head. He had to be around here somewhere.
The sirens were getting louder, and Harry thought quickly. He shouldn't be out here in the middle of the street, looking as out-of-place as he did. He had no form of identification on him, and he didn't want to answer any questions, if he looked suspicious enough to pull over and talk to.
He ran into a local alleyway behind the mart, and pressed his back against the shadows as the sirens got closer.
He was surprised to see five police-cars speed down the street, all wailing annoyingly loud; so much so, he covered his ears until it passed.
He took note of the 'GPD Police' on the side of the patrol cars, and leaned heavily against the wall.
This just wasn't a good day for him. He uncovered his ears and breathed a sigh of relief.
His ears twitched, and on pure instinct, he unholstered his wand and jabbed into an empty space next to him.
Or, what should have been an empty space.
"Ouch! Hey, watch it, Busta!"
"Who are you?" Harry growled, the darkness impairing his vision, along with the sweat from his fringe dripping onto his nose. He didn't dare try to shake the sweat away, not while he had them at wandpoint. She sounded very much like a girl, but… "Why were you hiding?"
He felt his hand smacked away, and he quickly jabbed it back. "Ouch! I'm warning ya!"
The tip of his wand glowed red. "I am not in the mood. Who. Are. You."
The girl with the strange accent gulped audibly. "Wow, heh. You pull that off as well as Bats could. Who are ya, anyways?" Something scraped along the bricks of the wall beside them.
His wand flashed, and in a moment, he had her tightly wrapped in ropes before she even knew it. Harry raised an eyebrow at what he just saw, when the flash of light allowed him to see her for a sliver of a second.
"Hey! What are ya – HEY! Let me GO, ya CREEP!"
"You sure you want the police to hear you?" he asked her, glancing over at the instrument that she had grabbed while she was talking to him. He could not see it all that well, and at this point, he didn't care. 'Lumos,' he thought, and a soft white glow emitted from his wand. He inspected the girl he had captured and whistled lowly. "I've never been called a creep by a jester before…"
The ropes were wrapped around her form pretty tightly, so he could see that her curves were not what he was expecting from a woman who had five police cars chasing after her. The ropes had gone as far as her knees to her mouth, and she kicked as best she could and screamed as best as she could – which wasn't much.
Harry slid down alongside the wall, before placing the wand in his lap, the glowing tip facing the mysterious woman dressed as a jester. "I have to admit, you're probably a step up from Bellatrix in crazy. And looks."
Despite the fact that the jester was tied down and gagged, he could see a faint blush on her cheeks. Harry cocked his head at her rather unusual response.
She muffled something, and it didn't sound very nice. He stood up, looked out from the corner, and seeing no one around, walked away from her.
He didn't get very far before her screams became frantic. With a wordless spell, the ropes around her mouth loosened.
"HARLEY QUINN! COME BACK HERE! IT'S – ! Oh." She looked up at him as best she could, her black painted lips in a frown. "You gonna let me go now?"
Harry frowned. "What kind of name is that? A stage name?"
She smirked. "You could say that. Now can you let me go already? I have ta meet up with a friend."
Harry approached her and squatted on his haunches. "Any reason you were running from the police?"
She frowned. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question? You're the one that's holding me hostage."
He shined his wand over to the wall to properly investigate the sound that made him shoot first. He raised an eyebrow. "Yes, but… I don't have a sledgehammer."
She looked indignant at his words. "It's a mallet, bonehead. Wanna see the difference?"
Harry shrugged. "Not really. Though I am interested in where you hide the sledgehammer."
Another reason to berate Sirius when he found him; he had learned far too much.
She growled with impatience. "I'd be happy to show you if you let me go." After a few seconds, she narrowed her eyes. "How'd you not know who I am? Where are you from?"
"Not around here," he said testily, still eyeing the comically oversized mallet. It did not look like a weapon such a small girl like her could be comfortable handling. "Does 'Britain' sound familiar to you?"
"Don't have to be such a smartass," she muttered, rolling around in the ropes, desperate to find some leverage to get up. With a spell (Wingardium Leviosa), her body moved upwards until she was leaning against the brick wall. Thinking quickly, he wrapped her legs in ropes as well. After getting over her immediate shock, she glared at him as he stood. "Ya know, you coulda just let me go."
Harry nodded. "I also coulda just left you here. Or summon the police back."
She grinned maliciously. "And then what? Leave me to tell them about your powers?"
"Because I'm sure you have a reputation for being trustworthy and honest." He went back to her old question. "Well? Tell me. What makes you think that I should know you?"
Her look towards him soured, since he pointed out that she was a criminal and no one would ever believe her story. She shuffled her feet forward with minimum effort before she pushed herself away from the wall.
She now stood perpendicular to him, and he got a good look at her nicely wrapped figure. With no hint of sarcasm or humor, she bunny-hopped to him, half-grunting as she did so, her boots making a slight clop. Harry did nothing but watch on with barely hidden amusement. With one final, fantastic leap, she stood her ground near inches from the green-eyed wizard, who was her exact height, and smirked evilly into his bright green eyes.
"Because, kid; I'm your worst nightmare. And if you don't let me go right now, and I mean right now, then I will show you what my mallet can do against your little stick."
Harry considered his options here. On the one hand, she was surely a force to be reckoned with, and he had caught her unprepared. That was very clear by the large, intimidating weapon behind her and the numerous police cars chasing her. She was more than a criminal, he realized; she was a villain.
He had enough of those to deal with as it was.
On the other hand…
"Yours may be bigger, but I know how to use mine." He leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. She squeaked loudly, and tried to lean back away from him, and he kept up flawlessly, leaning forward, adding just the right amount of pressure. She began scuttling back, and he paced with her, his lips in tandem with hers. He reached up to her right pigtail (the red one) and twirled it around his finger.
Harley's knees wobbled, and if they weren't held together so tightly, she would have collapsed. She had, of course, been kissed a few times, but she would be ashamed to say that this was the best kiss she'd ever gotten, and he hadn't even gotten past her lips yet!
Her eyes opened in disbelief – she didn't even remember closing them – and struggled anew. What did she mean by 'yet'? Was she anticipating his tongue or something? She had a fascination with psychology before she got into crime, and while she consistently tried to defend her actions, she was sure she was tipping the scales towards insanity at this very moment.
Harry licked her lips encouragingly and, almost by instinct, as if she actually wanted this to happen, she opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to nip at her teeth, before mingling with her own.
She half noticed that she had stopped struggling once again, and that her eyes were closed, once again.
Fuck it. She was going to kill the kid anyway. Might as well give him a last kiss from the hottest girl he'd ever meet.
Her eyes popped open, and she jumped backwards, finally out of his grasp. She stumbled backwards when she landed, and before she could fall flat on her back, the perceptively fast boy caught her around her waist.
"Not enjoying yourself?" He inquired, grinning at her flushed cheeks and heaving breath. She probably hadn't noticed, but her ropes had been loosened considerably around her stomach and heaving bosom. You needed to breath well in able to truly enjoy a kiss, after all.
Her blue eyes locked onto his green eyes with shock. "You should be dead," she muttered, licking her lips. She scanned his face. There were no veins pulsing, no discoloration, no extreme paleness on his character. She never had the chance to use this particular lipstick, but Ivy had told her how it should work. Was this a faulty batch? Ivy didn't make many mistakes, and this was her favorite formula.
She narrowed her eyes. Apparently, his powers went beyond what he could do with that stick. "What are you?"
He stood her up properly before spelling the binds to disappear. She shook on her feet, trying to regain function of her body, and he was counting on that. "I'm just a bloke that wanted a kiss from a pretty girl before she tried to smash my head in."
She stumbled around, trying to get feeling back into her legs, before her hand found something for leverage. She grinned dangerously at the object. "Sorry, kid. But I don't try anything!" She gripped around the handle of the mallet, and with one smooth move, flung the large tool in a perfect ark, and slammed it in the side of the brick wall. It cracked massively from the force, but the foundation held still.
She blinked. She expected his head to be there.
She stared cautiously around, hefting her mallet up to her shoulder, before scowling.
"I swear, if I wasn't almost convinced he was Zatanna's sidekick, I'd say he belonged to Bats himself."
She turned on the spot and walked away, making sure to add a little sway in her ass with each step. Just in case he was watching. "Ya just made my list, kid. And that's not a good list to be on."
Harry, hidden under the Potter family cloak, tilted his head at the beautiful villain the tight jester's outfit showcased, memorizing her curves as she sashayed out of the alley and into the open night.
He had no idea where he was, and he had no idea how to get back.
And, right now, enjoying the view, he could safely say that he was okay with that.