Author's Note: Trouble is a Harry Potter (and the Order of the Phoenix) story laced with the anime Loveless. This story features Harry Potter and a FEMALE OC. If you are less-than-knowledgeable of Loveless, you need not worry. It's not a real hardcore crossover, instead primarily using HP characters and mere mentioning cameos of canon Loveless characters. So you should be able to follow along reasonably well. If not, drop a line and I'd be happy to help.

Summary: "Never look for trouble for trouble is here. It is here for a purpose. Use it for the purpose in which it was intended — to help you grow. Thank God for your troubles."

Pairing: Harry Potter x Original Female Character

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and Loveless belong to J.K. Rowling, Warner Bros., and Yun Kōga, in their own respective ways. The songs, lyrics, and various quotes used do not belong to me either, all belonging to the song writers, artists, or other such people who came up with them.

However, I do claim ownership of the Units who will appear in the much later chapters.


.:Closer:.

Pissed off. That was an easy way to describe young Harry Potter as he stalked down the streets of Little Whinging, his aunt and uncle's angry yells trailing behind him. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd get it when he returned to that house, but it didn't matter. The whole summer was hell and even the universe knew it.

As he approached the corner, the sound of a strumming guitar found his ears and he remembered that this was her corner. The "her" in question was simply a girl, just a few years his senior. He didn't know who she was or where she came from, but then again, neither did anyone else in the town. He had heard his aunt (and her gossiping friends) speak of a girl who just showed up there shortly before summer and how she was an "eyesore to the streets of Little Whinging."

Finally reaching the end of the street, the young hero came up beside her. She was set up as she always was, head hung over her guitar as her fingers nimbly danced over the strings. The tune she played was foreign to him, as many of her songs were, but was quite soothing to his angered soul. Her case, he noted, had only collected a few bills so he dug into his pockets for what little change he had and dropped it with the rest; just a small token of thanks for quelling his anger ― something, as of late, only she seemed able to do... Not bothering to dwell on such a flimsy thought, he quickly crossed the street to the park, leaving a pair of dual, violet and honey-colored eyes to stare after his form before seemingly disappearing in a flutter of butterflies.

Shortly after hopping the fence, Harry plopped himself down on the only unbroken swing, his feet dragging through the ground but using enough force to propel him back and forth. Now, away from the town and the noise that lived there, his thoughts came rushing back to him. The most prominent being the loud crack that had resounded through Privet Drive. It was this noise that his aunt and uncle blamed him for, which also resulted in him being driven from that house. He was sure, more than sure actually, that the sound had been caused by someone magical, someone who was Apparating or Disapparating. But if it was someone magical, why hadn't they shown themselves to him? Made themselves known? Or at the very least, brought him news of his world, instead of leaving him the dark like a small child who wasn't allowed to hear the "grown up" conversations. It was these thoughts in his head that brought him to the brink of screaming until a new voice popped into his head, this one saying that he was just so itching for something magical to happen, that he was tagging everyday occurrences as magical happenings.

His musings were interrupted by raucous laughter and the clicking of racing bikes. He raised his head and turned to the direction of all the noise, eyes automatically falling on little street gang his cousin, Dudley, ran. In truth, it was more that they were the neighborhood bullies, beating up kids for petty reasons, if there were any reasons at all. For a while Harry simply sat and watched them. The temptation to make himself known was strong, for he knew that if they saw him, they'd come over and harass him, but it would be worth it to see Dudley hesitate, knowing he couldn't do anything to his "freak-of-a-cousin." But the boys never looked his way. Instead, they chatted about the latest 10-year-old to cross their path, reveling in the fact that they beat up small children for enjoyment, before splitting up for the night. It was at this time that Harry detached himself from the swing and wandered in the direction of his cousin, figuring it to be the appropriate time to return to that house. Any later and he was sure to catch more hell than was originally intended for him. "Hey, Big D!" At the sound of the name, Dudley turned around to face the voice, a look of irritation quickly appearing when he recognized the caller.

"Oh, it's you."

"How long have you been 'Big D' then?"

"Shut it."

"Cool name. But you'll always be Ickle Diddykins to me."

And so the trek back to Number 4, Privet Drive was filled with taunting and grunting – from Harry and Dudley, respectively. But as the pair turned down an alleyway, the conversation strayed and took a turn for the worse.

"Not this brave at night, are you?"

"This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it goes all dark like this."

"I mean when you're in bed!"

"What d'you mean, I'm not brave in bed? What – am I supposed to be frightened of pillows or something?"

"I heard you last night. Talking in your sleeping. Moaning."

"What d'you mean?"

"'Don't kill Cedric! Don't kill Cedric!' Who's Cedric – your boyfriend?"

"I – you're lying –"

"Does he know about that girl who comes into your room every night and sings you a lullaby? Or is he in on it as well? I bet you play for both sides, don't you?"

At that, Harry lost his voice. Not because of the implications about his sexuality, but because of the girl singing to him. Apparently, it wasn't any secret that he'd been having nightmares about Cedric's death, but the girl... he'd thought she'd been part of the dream as well. In each instance of his tormented sleep, right when he was inches from death in his nightmares, a soft voice would break through the darkness and drive his demons away. The more he thought on the voice, the stronger it became until it was almost like she was in his ear...

"'Dad! Help me, Dad! He's going to kill me, Dad! Boo-hoo!'"

And just like that, the voice was driven from his thoughts and replaced by his pestering cousin's noise. With a coldness in his voice, he quietly warned his cousin to shut up, but the larger boy paid no mind and continued, completely unaware of Harry's twitchy trigger hand.

"'Come and help me, Dad! Mum, come and help me! He's killed Cedric! Dad, help me! He's going to –' Don't you point that thing at me!"

The look on the young hero's face was of absolute hatred as he backed his cousin against the alley wall, his wand pointed directly at his relative's heart. It seemed as if everything between the pair had built up to this one moment and it took everything in him not to utter the words to jinx his cousin into a blubbering mess.

"Don't ever talk about that again. D'you understand me?"

"Point that thing somewhere else!"

"I said, do you understand me?"

"Point it somewhere else!"

"DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?"

"GET THAT THING AWAY FROM –"

Dudley's words suddenly caught in his throat, leaving him to make a stuttering gasp as the night left them in an unnatural pitch-black void. Any lights, whether they be of the sky or street, disappeared and all sounds, other than Dudley's gasping, were muted. At first, Harry had thought himself to have used a spell without realizing, but once he felt the vaguely familiar chill and heard the deep, rasping breaths, he knew it to be something else.

'Dementors...'

"W-what are you d-doing? St-stop it!"

"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"

"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I –"

"I said shut up!"

To say the young wizard was on edge would be an understatement, after-all, the thought seemed ludicrous: Dementors in Little Whinging? Improbable. But then again, this was The Boy Who Lived... worse things have happened.

"C-cut it out! Stop doing it! I'll h-hit you, I swear I will!"

"Dudley, shut –"

Harry was suddenly cut off as a fist made contact with his face, turning his head with the impact and making him stumble back until he hit the opposite side of the alleyway. Even in the dark he could feel his eyes focusing and unfocusing, but what he could not feel, was the smooth touch of his wand. Somewhere in his disoriented state, he had lost hold of his wand and he cursed himself for it. If they weren't in trouble before, they most definitely were now.

The sound of Dudley stumbling away forced Harry from dwelling on his hurt cheek and turning to where he assumed his cousin was running to.

"DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!"

The footsteps suddenly stopped as a yell resounded from the end of the alleyway, alerting the young wizard that his cousin was caught. Immediately, he fell to his knees, his hands furiously groping at the ground in search for his wand.

"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand! Where's – wand – come on – Lumos!"

The spell fell from his lips in desperation, not believing it would actually work until a small light lit up near his hand. He snatched it up without a moment's hesitation and jumped to his feet. Though, for the briefest moment, he almost wished he hadn't as he came face-to-hood with the dark offender.

His breath caught in his throat as he stumbled away, his wand raising as he spoke the spell "Expecto Patronum!" In the more desperate cases of its use, the Patronus Charm would have warded off the creature, but with Harry in a state of frantic fear and confusion, all that was produced was a silvery wisp, not even strong enough to halt the dementor for a millisecond, let alone send it off.

"Expecto Patronum! ... Expecto Patronum! ... Expecto Pa–!"

The spell choked and died in his throat, though it wasn't the dementor doing this to him. No, it was the sudden feel of arms wrapping around him that froze him to his very core. This was it. This was really it. He was either going to die here or his soul would be sucked away, leaving his body the equivalent of a life-sized doll. It wasn't going to be the Dark Lord who did away with him, like everyone thought, but the physical embodiment of fear... As he seemingly resigned to his fate, he felt a face by his ear, but instead of the chilling breaths, he felt a puff of warm air.

"Shh. Don't be afraid, Little Hero. I'll take care of everything from here. Just stay in my arms and let me draw my strength from you."

It was almost unfathomable how much comfort he found in the voice, a girl's voice, if the lack of bass was any indication of gender. He felt, more than saw, when one of her arms left his waist and raised straight ahead towards the offender.

"There is not enough darkness in all the world to put out the light of even one small candle. So with my borrowed power, light up the world around us and send this creature back into the shadows!"

Harry watched in fascination as a small glow appeared before him before a sudden blast of light shot forward and at the dementor. The light had him turning in place, the sudden brightness burning his dilated eyes, and he buried his face into her neck. Though he could hear the dementor fly off, it was a thought pushed into the back his mind. The feeling of this girl's arms wrapped around him, the light airy scent of her skin, the warmth her mere presence gave him... it all felt so familiar to him, but from where, he couldn't place it.

"Don't need to be afraid. You don't have to be afraid, don't be afraid."

Her words were a relaxing mantra in his head, erasing all thoughts of everything else: Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, his cruddy summer, his aunt and uncle, Dudley, the demen– Dudley! A gasp tore from him and he stumbled back and out of her grasp before running past and down the alleyway. It was barely a few seconds before he found them, Dudley curled on the ground with not one, but two dementors surrounding and keeping a hold on him. He couldn't help but notice the hoods were pulled back or how close they were to performing their notorious kiss.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

This time, without hesitation or flaw, a silver stag erupted from Harry's wand, chasing down the nearest dementor and sending it flying with its antlers. The stag didn't even have to turn for the other, simply bucking its hind legs right into its foe's chest. Once the threat was done with, the silvery guardian dissolved into a mist.

A warm breeze blew through the area, bringing with it the rustling sounds of trees and the faint sounds of cars. Looking up and around, Harry found the reappearance of the astral lights as well as the glow from the streetlamps. Everything was as it was and should be in Little Whinging, with nothing out of the ordinary in the small English town. The light tip tap of footsteps reminded him he wasn't alone here (not even including Dudley as he was still blubbering on the ground) and he turned, his vision swarmed with nothing but violet and honey.

'Two-tone eyes? Wait a minute...'

"You're that girl! The one who plays on the corner!"

True enough, it was the young guitarist from the corner, though she wasn't dressed in her typical bohemian attire (having traded in her sequined clothes for a t-shirt, jeans, and a purple, fur-trimmed jacket). Her hair, he noted, was like her eyes in the aspect of two-tones; a silvery-blonde at the root as the rest fell in the color of black, an obvious dye-job. His evaluation of her was cut short as she flung her arms around his neck, successfully pinning him between her and the wall.

"You had me so worried. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to save you. But they're gone now and you and me, we can build our bond."

"Our what? What're you talking about?"

"I just wanna protect you, enclosed in loneliness, your heart shaken by sadness, for the rest of my days."

"W-what? Stop! Don't–!"

His words died when he felt her lips on his neck, kissing and suckling the skin by his adam's apple. His breath hitched as her hand slipped under his shirt, fingers trailing on his skin before resting above his rapidly-beating heart.

"A bond... between a Sacrifice and its Fighter, is like that of lovers. We are here for the sake of each other, dedicated wholly and solely to one another. You are my Sacrifice and I am your Fighter. I will protect you, my life I trade in for your pain, but there is not enough magic in a bloodline to forge an instant, irrevocable bond. So from here on out, we can only rely on one another; these scars tying us to our names and our names tying us to each other."

"I don't understand... what're you talking about?"

Harry felt the hand slip from his chest as she pulled away, her two-tone eyes blocking out the rest of the world. It was now that he could see that the honey of her eyes were contacts and the violet just peaked out from inside. He refocused his attention when she pushed her bangs away to reveal a small scar, the same shape, size, and placement as his own.

"It's not your fault, so please stop your crying now."

His bright green orbs widened in shock, the line she spoke being a line from his dreams. It would seem that not only was she the girl from the corner, but she was the one who saved him in his nightmares. Before he could question her, however, her lips fell over his in a silencing kiss.

If people saw fireworks, he was seeing stars. If hearts skipped beats, his stopped beating. He may not have been as experienced with girls as other boys his age, but the fact remained, his lips were virgin no more.

All too soon though, her weight disappeared from him and he opened his eyes, being greeted by nothing but the opposite alley wall. If it weren't for the faint, feminine scent lingering about him or the incessant tingle of his lips, he would have thought her to have been a post-traumatic hallucination. But wherever it was she disappeared to, he couldn't linger on it, for his batty old neighbor, Mrs. Figg, stood at the end of the alleyway, staring at him pointedly.

Turn the lights off in this place and she shines just like a star
And I swear I know her face, I just don't know who you are
Turn the music up in here, I still hear her loud and clear
Like she's right there in my ear, telling me that she wants to
Own me
To control me
Come closer
Come closer

Ne-Yo : Closer : Year of the Gentleman


Random Trouble Fact: Trouble was originally a part of Smile. I wrote a future scene featuring Lita Donolov, the OC of Smile. It was a one-on-one meeting between herl and McGonagall, with the discussion of what Lita would do after graduation. Lita was in a depressed state at being, physically, 15 and missing any opportunity to help her friends. Continuous reading of the scene made Lita feel very un-Lita-like, so it was scrapped from Smile. But I still rather liked the scene and it evolved into The Girl - the stand-in for the then-unnamed character - being Harry's age, but a wizarding dropout. Somehow Loveless got involved and Trouble had a life of its own.