Author's Note: Are you still here with me?

2010 sucked. A lot. Four of my computers fried (2 laptops, my home desktop, and my work computer) and only one could be saved (my work computer). I've tried typing at work on my free time, but when your back is (literally) to the bosses, it's difficult to know who's standing over your shoulder. I'm currently borrowing a friend's laptop... although, that may be gone soon and then I'll have to go back to weekend writing at work.

In other news, I've really gotten into the show Young Justice and therefore, have picked up reading a few fics.

Young Justice: The Nile Chronicles by A Small World- Big Dreams is very good, as well as Captivating Sympathy by pancake-at-the-disco. Both OC-oriented fics.

But this isn't only about shameless advertising... Most of the YJ fics with an OC are merely retells of the show, same action and dialogue, and that got me thinking... is Trouble just a retell like that?

Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter One: Closer.

Chapter Warning(s): Lime.

.:Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off:.

Harry lay silent on his bed, eyes staring blankly out the open window of his room. Without even turning, he could feel the heated glare from the doorway, the large shadow indicating it was his uncle that chose to interrupt his seclusion. Clearing his throat, the man known as Vernon Dursley aimed to gain his nephew's attention, but only succeeded in receiving a tilt of the head.

"We're going out."


"We – that is to say, your aunt, Dudley, and I – are going out."


"You are not to touch the television, the stereo, or any of our possessions."


"You are not to steal food from the fridge."


"I am going to lock your door."

"You do that."

The sudden slamming, and subsequent locking, of his bedroom door barely shook Harry from his repressed state. Maybe a twitch of the ear, but that was only from the sudden loudness. The sound of the Dursleys car pulling out of the driveway told him they really were gone and, if he had been in a better mood, he would have been grateful for the reprieve, but as it were, he had no feeling one way or the other about it. All his attention was placed on the window of his room, his ears straining to hear any oncoming flapping.

It had been four days since he'd sent his beloved owl, Hedwig, off and there was still no news from his world. Granted, he had been sent a few letters the night of the attack, but those had simply been instructions for him to stay put, not anything explaining what was going on. Hell, no one even congratulated the boy on staving off the Dementors!

'No, that's not right. She did...'

The "she" in question, of course, referred to that girl; the one who had saved him, but left no name. Eavesdropping on his aunt's gossip brought into light that she hadn't been seen in all of Little Whinging since the attack and if it hadn't been for the messages she sent, he would have worried over her fate.

Turning on his side, he focused his attention on the paper birds sitting on his nightstand. They were unique to him in that they didn't arrive by owl or Muggle post, but simply floated in through the window. Reaching over, he gathered them up and began pulling their wings apart, their messages unfolding in his hands.

'I did not have a chance to say, but I'm so proud of you. I can't wait to see what you do next.'

That had been her first message, waiting for him when he retreated to his room after the attack. The message almost hadn't made it to him as Hedwig had set her sights on the little thing. In an act of self-preservation, the bird suddenly undid itself, floating peacefully to the floor once Hedwig saw it to be nothing more than a slip of paper.

'My silly little hero, you'll wear a hole through the floor if you keep that up.'

That one had come the following afternoon when he had taken to pacing to pass the time. When he received that message, he had shot towards the window, sticking his head as far out as it could go without falling. Sadly, there was nothing to see and no one around.

The last one had come the night before. While the Dursleys were snoring away in their beds, Harry had slipped from his room and into the bathroom. After relieving himself, he stood over the sink, hands gripping the porcelain as he stared hard at his reflection. With a slight tilt of his head, his eyes focused on the discolored spot on his neck.

His first love-bite.

Despite the embarrassment, he couldn't help the pride he got from looking at it nor could he stop the heated feeling he got when he remembered it. He could still hear her whispered voice, hot and breathy against his ears. He could remember the feel of her hands running across his chest, his skin tingling in their wake whilst her mouth sucked and nibbled on his neck, quickening his pulse and setting his blood alight.

A slight fluttering behind him caught his eye and he turned to catch the paper bird. His quickly scanned over the message, its content staining his cheeks a brilliant red. He hastily stuffed the note into his pocket, splashed cold waster on his face and disappeared into bed.

'You seem very fond of that mark. I can give you more, if you'd like...'

It was unsettling that she always seemed to know what he was up to and that he was being watched by unseen eyes, but at least she made contact with him... unlike his so-called friends... or his godfather... or the wizard who issued this protective detail in the first place...

A loud crash from down below forced the boy to his feet. He stood still, his ears straining to hear, but after a few moments of silence, his mouth fell into a frown; there were too many mufflers between him and downstairs.

Harry hesitated for a moment, but quickly made up his mind and grabbed his wand. It had only been an hour since the Dursleys left, far too soon for them to be done hobnobbing at whatever uppity party they'd been dressed for. Quietly, he made his way to the door and pressed his ear against the wood. There were voices, lots of voices, all hushed and hurried. The boy's brow scrunched at this; they weren't the Dursleys and they couldn't be burglars – these people were being far too loud for that.

A sudden rattling through the wood forced Harry from the door, eyes on the handle as it shook violently. The unlocking click of the knob had the hero's wand at the ready, but the emptiness outside his door cast confusion into his eyes. Forgoing his hesitation, he crept out the door, aiming to be as quiet as possible and listening for any more noise, though all he could hear was his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears. But as he reached the stairs, he wished he'd just stayed in his room. At the foot of the stairs stood a group of ten people, give or take a few, all seemingly staring up at him.

Panic flooded the boy's system, his heart seeming to pound thunderously in his ears as he raised his wand in defense.

"It's all right, Harry. We've come to take you away."

"P-Professor Lupin? Is that you?"

"Lower your wand boy, before you take someone's eye out."

"Professor Moody?"

"Don't know so much about 'Professor.' Never got round to much teaching, did I? Now, get down here, we want to see you properly."

Everything was happening much too fast for Harry to grasp, the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him lightheaded. The people in his kitchen were magic folk, wizards and witches... including two of his former professors. Somewhere in the haze of his mind he heard a female voice call out a spell and a small torch of light lit up the kitchen.

"Oooh, he looks just like I thought he would. Wotcher Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus. He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes. Lily's eyes."

Nothing was making sense to Harry as he watched the scene before him. An entire month had passed with nothing more than his friends telling him keep his head down and stay out of trouble. Now... now he had a room full of wizards, staring at him and chatting away like he was some sort of statue on display.

"Won't you come down, Little Hero?"

Harry's eyes widened at the voice and he was down the stairs in an instant. Prof. Lupin met him at the bottom, a smile on his weathered face, and brought him further into the room.

"This is Alastar Moody, Harry. And this is Nymphadora - ("Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus. It's Tonks.") - who prefers to be known by her surname only. ("So would you if your fool of a mother had called you 'Nymphadora'.") And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt, Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle, Emmeline Vance, Sturgis Podmore, and Hestia Jones."

Harry's eyes traveled from face to face as Prof. Lupin gave the introductions, a certain eagerness creeping up every time a female was introduced that disappeared shortly after seeing the face. There was no denying he was looking for someone particular, but she wasn't here.

'I heard her... I swear I did.'

The boy's self-doubt was put on hold as Prof. Lupin clapped his hand on his shoulder.

"And you've already met this one, I'd think."

"We have, Remus. Rest assured."

And there she was, sitting on the back of the Dursleys couch like she was a hood ornament. Even though the girl was staring at him expectantly, the words wouldn't come. She had drained her hair of its false coloring and removed her contacts, even her style had changed – this time looking every bit a punk in her dark-colored clothes and fishnets – but he knew it was her; he'd been obsessing over her so much it would be next to impossible to mistake her.

The attack flashed vividly in his mind and he shifted in his stance.

'I wouldn't say we haven't met...'

"You'd better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes," said Prof. Lupin, lifting his hand off Harry's back and bringing his watch to his face.

Tonks raised her hand to offer her assistance to the Boy Hero, but was beat to the punch when the blonde Fighter crossed the room. "I'll help you," she said smiling and slipped her hand into his; there was something about her smile that Harry found to be highly misleading. Apparently, Harry wasn't the only one to think so.

"None of your tricks, girl. We're on a schedule."

"Then I guess we'd better get a move on then, instead of listening to you growl at people, ne, Mad-Eye?"

Her smile never faltered as she answered and she didn't linger any longer afterward. With a light tug, she turned and led the boy from the kitchen, although his ears seemed hesitant to leave.

"Really, Lupin, you think it's alright for that girl to be alone with the boy?"

"I don't see why not. If there's anyone to keep him safe, it'd be her."

"Oh, and if she just happens to – damn it! It keeps sticking – ever since that scum wore it – "

"Mad-Eye, you do know that's disgusting, don't you?"

"Just get me a glass of water, would you?"

"Quite a cast of characters we are, ne?"

Harry's attention shifted back towards the girl, however, she wasn't focused on him, not entirely anyway. Her attention was on his room, which was, to say the very least, a mess; being in there for four days while in a sour mood brought out the slob in him, although the blonde didn't seem to mind. After a light squeeze, she released his hand and set to work. Harry couldn't help but notice how comfortable she seemed here, moving about his room with a familiarity that rivaled his own.

"How often have you been in here?" asked Harry as he joined in packing his room. He attempted to sound nonchalant, but even he realized the words sounded like an accusation.

"Only when you had nightmares."

For a moment, Harry stood frozen... he'd been having nightmares nearly every night since Cedric's death.

"You're unhappy with me."

"What makes you say that?"

"The look on your face."

The look that the boy apparently had deepened as his eyes flashed over to the Fighter. She had abandoned her task to clean, choosing to sit on his bed and watch him, a knowing smile spread across her face as she met his smile.

"Come and sit," she said, patting the empty space beside her, but instead of complying, Harry turned back around.

"We're supposed to be packing, you know."

"Oh? Well then... Maglinis ka nang kuwarto at balutin mo ang kailangan." [1]

The boy fell backwards with a startled "whoa," narrowly avoiding being clonked on the head with a book as his room erupted in movement. Books, clothes, scrolls, and scales... everything that had been mussed and dirtied in the past few days flew from their fallen places, hovering in the air for a moment as an invisible force cleaned them, and finally zoomed into his trunk.

"How'd you do that?" asked the boy, turning his full attention to the blonde as he pushed himself back into standing.

"Magic, of course."

Harry felt like kicking himself; somehow, he felt he should've expected that answer.

"That's not what I meant... How'd you do that without a wand?"

With a sigh, the blonde rose from the bed; the boy was obviously not going to come to her.

"There are different brands of magic throughout the world and most of them don't depend on a wand. Divination, as I'm sure you're familiar with, is a magic that is completely wandless. And I'm sure you've heard of Voodoo... there's also alchemy, although that's more of a science..."

The blonde trailed off, as if deep in thought, but her silence didn't last long as she gave him that smile again, the one that seemed more a lie than anything else.

"You know, love and magic have a great deal in common."

"Love?" asked Harry, feeling himself flush and blanch at the same time and he took a step back, the look in the woman's eyes becoming dangerously mischievous as she followed him.

"Mhm. They enrich the soul, delight the heart..."

Backtracking led the boy to the wall, something the Fighter took full advantage of as she placed her hands on the spaces beside his head. Being that she was the taller of the two, she had to dip down to bring them eye-to-eye.

"And they both take practice."

Harry was once again frozen in her presence as she eliminated the small space between them, pulling her body flush against his, her breath hot against his lips.

"Let's make a bond... stronger than all others."

Harry struggled for words, actions, anything that would get him out of this situation. The opportunity presented itself as he realized something.

"I don't even know your name... how would we do that?"

"I'll tell you everything if you accept."


"All those questions swirling round your mind, I'll answer each and every one."

Harry tried to search her face for any deception or truth, but with his body being so virgin and hers being so close, the blood was quickly draining from his head and heading south.

"I – yes, I accept!"

Just like in the alley, her lips crashed down on his in a silencing kiss. Every coherent thought and negative emotion disappeared, simply leaving him lost in the feeling of her. And she felt good. He heard her hands slide down the wall before he felt them, one coming to rest on his shoulder as the other continued downward. His body twitched in anticipation as the other slipped between them, raising his shirt to play with the coarse hairs on his lower stomach. With her warm hand on his skin, so low on his virgin body, and yet not low enough, he couldn't stop his mouth from falling open in a silent moan.

His eyes shot open as she took advantage of the opening, her tongue moving behind his teeth, coaxing him to play, and bringing the taste of cigarettes and apples. It surprised him that she was a smoker, but instead of repulsing him, like he always imagined kissing a smoker would, it drew him in.

'Secondhand nicotine addiction...?'

Just like his thoughts, her mouth trailed away from him. His burning lungs made him heave for air, a momentary distraction before she redirected her attention to his neck. A sweep of her tongue was the only warning she gave before she began her assault, freshening the mark from days ago as his pulse increased beneath her lips. She was further encouraged when his hands found their way to her hips, pulling her impossibly close against his growing stiffness. This time, the moan came from her and she had to withdraw from his throat.

"S'pose I can't call you 'little' anymore, ne?" asked the blonde breathlessly, the bulge pressing against her was unmistakable, and earned a self-satisfied smirk from her hero. Feeling empowered at making her the weak-kneed one, Harry switched their positions, pinning her to the wall, and initiated the next kiss, easily invading her mouth in eager, albeit, clumsy fervor.

Harry felt her gasp as her back hit the wall, felt her hands clawing at him, looking for something to hold onto, and, finally, the slight lift of the corners of her mouth as she smirked into the kiss; she had been waiting for Harry to come to her himself... and coming was exactly what she had in mind.

In truth, it was foolhardy on his part to think he could dominate her completely, but it was a far more enjoyable mistake than any he'd made before. She easily retook control of the kiss, licking, nipping, and sucking spots in his mouth that drove him crazy... and hardened him faster than any porn magazine ever had.

Aiming to ease his need, he attempted to nudge her legs apart, but was met with resistance. There was a low growl in his throat, something which amused the blonde greatly, but her intent was made clear as she deftly undid his pants and swiftly pulled his length from his boxers.

Harry's head fell forward with a groan, his breath coming in hot puffs against her neck. Using the mirror allowed her to study him, the look on her hero's face being one that she would treasure forever: his eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows drawn together, his jaw was set, and he had a blush across his face as deep as the Nile. Despite the incessant thrusting of his hips and the pleading whine, she kept her hands still.

"C'mon Hero, open your eyes. I want you to look at me."

Harry's eyes broke open, just a sliver at first, but they settled into half-moons, and he lifted his head from her shoulder. Those pretty eyes of his that were typically a bright shade of green had darkened considerably in their lust and set within those liquid orbs was the image of the woman that made him this way.

"Don't... stop..." Harry mumbled and leant forward, breaking their contact and leaving a trail of sloppy kisses that ended at her collar. She hummed low in her throat, clearly enjoying the feeling of her hero sucking on her flesh.

"Is that an order?"

"... yes."

The order was accompanied by a rather harsh bite on her neck. There was no doubt that a mark would be left behind, but the action worked in his favor as her hands, finally, began pumping him.

His hands moved frantically over her, not knowing where to put them. Eventually, he let one settle on cupping her apple-shaped ass as the other moved under her shirt, fingers tracing the edge of her bra. There was a brief moment as their eyes flickered over each other before Harry's snapped shut again, a shuddering groan escaping him when deft fingers gave his balls a squeeze, then going right back to tugging and soothing his hard cock. With boldness, Harry slipped his fingers under the stiff underwire of her bra, his whole hand slowly molding against her round breast.

Harry tucked himself closer; his skin felt like it was smoldering in contrast to the cool-skinned woman. His breathing became ragged as she continued milking him, all the while licking his neck and biting on his ear, encouraging her hero to keep up his ministrations. Both knew he was close to the end and he tried to hold on for a moment longer, but it was too late. With one last stroke, she raked her nails along his shaft and he came undone. His hands tightened on her ass and breast as his seed spurted out, making a mess that made him both hot all over again and completely embarrassed at the same time.

Slowly, the hand left from the depths of Harry's pants and he watched as she brought it to her face. His blood seemed to start rushing again as she contemplated the sticky substance, but she seemed to decide against it and, instead, leaned forward to leave a chaste kiss of her hero's lips.



"My name... it's Sōran."

There was a dazed smile on Harry's face, whether it was because of his post-orgasmic high or because he'd finally learned her name was debatable.

"Malinis na ang aming mga katawan." [2]

The invisible force was back again, this time with the purpose of cleaning them, rather than his room. The sweat that had accumulated on their skin was wiped away and his pants no longer felt wet; all traces of what had just occurred was gone.

"This," started Sōran as she pushed the boy back, "is only the beginning of our bond. I warn you though, it gets harder." Setting herself straight, Sōran stepped around her hero and gathered his trunk, shrinking it with another of her foreign spells, and headed out the door. "Don't forget the cage or your broom!" She couldn't stop the giggle as she heard his clumsy footsteps scramble about his room.

"Excellent, I was almost beginning to worry," said Lupin as the pair re-entered. The wolf beckoned the boy over while the blonde made her way over to Tonks.

Unlike most women Sōran was forced into contact with, she felt no ill-will towards Tonks. Part of it was due to their kindred spirits, but most of it originated from the fact the Fighter knew Tonks had no interest in her hero other than that gawk-and-awe fascination most wizards had when it came to The Boy Who Lived.

"You know, I don't think purple's really my color," started Tonks as she tugged on the hair in question. "D'you think it makes me look a bit peaky?"

Sōran huffed a smile as she gave her attention to the older woman. "It could just be the way you're reflected from a spoon."

"No. It's definitely the hair," stated the shifter-witch and a look of concentration entered her face; a moment later and her hair turned bubble-gum pink. "How do I look?"

"Sōran, could you come here for a moment?"

Looking over, she saw that Harry was with Mad-Eye and that Lupin, the one who called, was waiting for her patiently.

It was silent between the two as Lupin waited for everyone to become re-entranced with Harry, but his voice was low when he finally did speak.

"Do you really think that was wise?"

"Sex is a good building block, a powerful tool in human bonding. Giving him a hand-job is a decent start between us."

Lupin flushed at her bluntness, but Sōran found no need to beat around the bush with Lupin. She knew the moment they came downstairs that he already knew what she'd done, he probably even knew the moment she initiated it; the wolf may be subdued, but his senses were still active.

"I understand you want to bond with the boy, but don't you think it could've waited?"

"I gave him a choice. He accepted."

Lupin's exasperation was met with indifference and he followed the rest of the Guard into the garden, Sōran slowly trailing behind. She had meant to put it from her mind, leave those thoughts for a time when she could properly dwell on them, but Lupin's questions brought them back full-force.

She was met with no resistance as she raked her fingers through her hair. It had been ages ago when she'd lost her ears and part of her was sad that she couldn't have offered them to her hero, or at least lost them together; even though Westerners' virginity wasn't physically manifested as a cat tail and ears, she could still see the outline on her boy. It was that thought that brightened the situation; she would be his first.

"Get ready! The first signal will be up soon!"

While Sōran wasn't exactly pleased with him, Mad-Eye's growling command was sound and she took her place beside Tonks. There was a faint smile on her face as she kept her gaze ahead; she could feel her Sacrifice's eyes drilling into her back.

A pop was heard as she held her hand to the side, a stance most witches and wizards take when they have their first flying lesson, and a stick appeared in her palm. It was quite similar to the wizarding broom, but instead of the tail finishing with synthetic bristles, the wood continued, widening and flattening out at the end.

"An oar?" came her Disillusioned hero's voice, his tone caught between laughing and being curious.

Sōran sat sidesaddle on her oar, instantly hovering off the ground, and turned her head over her shoulder.

"I'm not from around here, Hero."

"Then where're you from?"

A shower of red sparks lit up the sky high above them.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first sign!"

"All questions are answered in good time."

"But you said – !"

"Second signal, let's go!"

Lupin's voice was accompanied by more sparks, this time green, and the group shot into the air.

Let's get these teen hearts beating, faster, faster!
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,
Will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,
Will you dance to this beat and hold a lover close?

Lying is the Most Fun a Girl Can Have Without Taking Her Clothes Off : Panic! At the Disco : A Fever You Can't Sweat Out

[1] "Oh? Well then... Maglinis ka nang kuwarto at balutin mo ang kailangan."
"Oh? Well then... Clean the room and pack what's needed."
[2] "Malinis na ang aming mga katawan."
"Clean our bodies."

One is correct, I'm not entirely sure about Two. My mother, who was born and raised in the Philippines, translated the first for me. I had to make due with Google Translate for the second since I find it somewhat awkward to explain why I need that sentence translated.

Random Trouble Fact: The rating wasn't supposed to go up until Chapter 6, but each rewrite got steamier and steamier. Thank my cousin, BB, for writing the lime.

Special thanks to:

hEAvEV's REjects
Kuro Neko to Kuro Bara
Dark Neko 4000
Kitsune Alchemist