AUTHOR'S NOTES: So this rewrite came about because of a message from Shaggy37 and the suggestion that I merge my NCIS storyline from 'What Should Have Been' with Harry Potter. And after a little thinking, I figured that the idea would work brilliantly with a rewrite of THIS story.

As with a lot of my rewrites I'm going to be changing things up from the original. The main thing being that instead of Harry living with the Dursleys he'll be living with Gibbs and Kelly.

STORY SUMMARY: Sometimes your greatest problems come from within rather from outside. Harry Potter knows this only too well, as do his uncle and cousin whom he's lived with almost his entire life. But problems don't always go away once you've solved them and sometimes they reemerge even worse than before.

HARRY POTTER: My Worst Enemy-Rewrite

(NCIS Crossover)

Ziva David loved running early in the morning. Especially when it was that time of day when not even the sun was up and most of the world was still asleep. She would get up, dress for the current weather along with a yellow windbreaker, and enjoy a 3-6 mile run before going into NCIS—The Naval Criminal Investigative Service.

She enjoyed these runs even more so after Gibbs had come back to NCIS after a temporary retirement. After nearly dying in an explosion which had left him with temporary amnesia, Gibbs had gone down to Mexico to stay at the home of his former boss and mentor, Mike Franks who had built a house on a beach down there. After the explosion, Ziva had lapsed on her morning runs, sometimes getting up later and sometimes skipping the run all together.

But the first morning after Gibbs was reinstated, Ziva had woken at 3:45 in the morning and when her shoes hit the paved trail, all the worries, the memories of being on the run from Mossad, the FBI, and NCIS and everything else that had happened flew from her mind and moments later she was back in her old rhythm.

Yes, life was back to normal now, or as normal as it ever was.

As she passed another jogger, Ziva's musings drifted from Gibbs to his family. Gibbs and his only daughter, Kelly, had always had an extremely close relationship from what Ziva could see and there was little doubt that their bonds were in large part to the death of Gibbs' first wife, Shannon when the young girl was 8 years old.

When her father had left for Mexico, Kelly had been absolutely devastated and to make matters worse, she'd collapsed at work—a library a mere two blocks from NCIS headquarters—not even a week later.

When she was 11, Kelly had been diagnosed with a rare muscle disorder that caused her legs to get weaker and weaker. The disorder was called Tibialis Posterior Atrophy and at first had manifested as an odd shuffling gait and clumsiness when Kelly walked. But after a year, Gibbs had taken his little girl to the doctors who had diagnosed the condition.

By the time she was in high school, she'd needed braces and eventually crutches to walk, something that had weighed very heavily on Gibbs as he watched his only child slowly lose her mobility. And even though Kelly's condition had been stabilized for the past 8 years and she'd even seemed to be walking just marginally better, the doctors had warned that Kelly's legs would eventually get worse and she wouldn't be able to walk at all.

Sure enough, Kelly had been at work—reshelving returned items, actually, when her legs buckled and she fell to the floor. After two days in the hospital going through tests and scans to make sure she hadn't received any other injuries, Kelly was allowed to leave the hospital but she left in a wheelchair since the disorder had completely weakened her legs.

Distracted from her thoughts as she caught a glimpse of something lying by a tree, Ziva slowed to a stop and tentatively walked over to the body of a young man about 16 years old. It only took her a second to recognize the messy black hair as belonging to Gibbs' nephew, Harry Potter. Looking around to see if there was anyone about, Ziva grabbed her cellphone and dialed as she knelt down and checked the teenager for a pulse. It was present and strong which made the agent feel a bit more relieved, but something about all this bothered her. Why was Harry out here in the first place? How did he get out here? Did Gibbs know his nephew was outside over night?

Hearing a voice on the other end of the line, the mossad officer pulled herself back to the present and said to her partner, "Tony, it's Ziva. I need you to get here as soon as you can. Have Abby track my cellphone." After hanging up, Ziva called 911 before looking around to see if there was anyone who might have seen something.

The few joggers and bystanders hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary but at the same time they hadn't really been paying attention. As much as that bothered Ziva, she couldn't deny that it was fairly common for civilians.


15 minutes later, Ziva saw her partner, Anthony DiNozzo jogging up followed by the paramedics who were also bringing a stretcher and various equipment from the ambulance which was parked 20 feet away. "Morning, Ziva. Want to tell me what happened?" Tony asked as he stood next to her and pulled out a small memo pad and a pen to take notes. Even though Ziva had only called him since he was her partner, he knew Gibbs would ask for a formal report later. He stopped, though, when he saw Harry lying unconscious on the ground as the paramedics assessed the boy's possible injuries. "Ziva, what happened?" Tony asked again, more urgently this time.

Tony had taken to Harry as soon as he'd met the kid and over the years, the NCIS agent had considered himself Harry's unofficial uncle/big brother. The two would watch movies on the weekends or just hang out. In fact, Harry was already dating his best friend from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione Granger who was widely considered the smartest student in the past 15 years.

Watching as the paramedics wrote down Harry's vitals and started an IV line, Tony hastily took a note or two when Ziva described the morning.

"I was on my morning run," Ziva reported, knowing the reason Tony seemed distracted. "I saw something by the tree. I thought maybe someone left their jacket but when I went to investigate…."

"Turns out to be Gibbs' nephew," Tony added, looking at the paramedics again, concerned for Harry. "How is he?"

"Alive," one of the paramedics replied. "He has a bunch of bruises on his right leg and face but no broken bones that we could discern."

"Abuse?" Ziva wondered aloud. She knew the more evil members of the wizarding world wanted Harry dead. Could a Death Eater have abducted Harry and tortured him? Had the teenager been left for dead?

One of the paramedics shook his head, slowly, at Ziva's question. "Does the kid have a history of illness?" he asked, warily. He'd seen bruises related to abuse before—especially after they'd had ample time to develop—and the marks on the unconscious teenager didn't look like abuse.

Tony and Ziva exchanged a look before Tony nodded, slowly. "Cancer when he was 8," he replied, a sick feeling coming over him as he looked at Harry one last time before the kid was loaded into the ambulance. "But he's been in remission since he was 10…"

"I think remission is over," the paramedic said, sadly. "The bruises don't look like their from an impact. They look more like internal bruising."


When Harry Potter started to regain consciousness he could immediately tell he was in a hospital and that was never a good thing…especially for him.

He'd been just over a year old and living in England when an evil wizard named Lord Voldemort had murdered his parents before somehow disappearing after trying to kill him. With his parents gone, Harry had become an orphan and the question became who would take care of him. His father, James, had been an only child and his paternal grandparents had died some years before.

Lily Potter, on the other hand, still had her grandmother and two sisters when she'd died and after consulting the Potters' will, Harry had been placed in the care of Lily's younger sister, Shannon.

And so, a week after the murder of his parents, Harry had been sent to live with his aunt and uncle in the States who had been more than delighted to take the child in. More than that, Shannon had immediately petitioned to formally adopt Harry as her own child, overjoyed at the prospect of increasing the family.

A short time after those events, Harry had been in a car crash that had killed his Aunt Shannon and had nearly killed him and his cousin, Kelly. Shannon had witnessed the murder of a United States Marine and while the police tried to apprehend the killer, the Naval Investigative Service had placed the Gibbs family. But the killer had taken a shot at the NIS agent protecting Shannon and her children one day while the lot was in the minivan Gibbs had bought after Harry had come along, and while Kelly had ended up in a coma for nearly 3 months before waking up, Harry had barely a scratch on him, likely owing to being strapped tightly into his car seat.

With Shannon gone, Jethro Gibbs had left the Marine Corps and had begun working at NIS—renamed NCIS later that same year. And while he had tried remarrying once, when that had fallen through he had instead decided to focus on Harry and Kelly. Life was relatively uneventful for the family and eventually each found their own routines.

But when Harry was 8 years old, he'd fallen on the playground of his elementary school and when the bruise and swelling around his right leg hadn't gone away after more than a month, his Uncle Jethro had taken him to the doctor who had diagnosed him with bone cancer.

It had been a scary time and Kelly had spent as much time as she could by Harry's bedside since he was practically her brother.

After surgery to remove the tumor in his leg and more than 2 years of chemotherapy and radiation treatments, Harry had finally gone into remission but the prospect that the cancer would come back always loomed in his mind, making him paranoid about every single bump and bruise.

Those fears were now in the forefront of his mind as he tried to think of what had happened that could have landed him in the hospital. Harry remembered going to bed the night before after finishing the last of his summer assignments for Hogwarts and then… And then he'd woken up in the hospital just moments ago… What had happened in between? Why couldn't he remember anything else?

"Hey, you're awake…" a pleasant, female voice said, cutting into Harry's thoughts.

Harry blinked as he saw a blurry form looking at him. Unable to make the person out clearly, he asked, "Who are you?"

"Dr. Jeanne Benoit," the woman replied, handing Harry his glasses which had been sitting on the bedside table. After he put them on she started the usual series of questions designed to ascertain a patients mental status. "What's your name?"

"Harry Potter," Harry replied, wondering if maybe he had a concussion. That would make sense, especially considering his left eye was still very fuzzy.

"Good. And where are you from?" Jeanne asked as she checked Harry's pulse. So far the teenager seemed to be a good shape—his vitals were good and he seemed alert and oriented.

"Washington, DC," Harry replied, turning his head a bit so he could see the doctor better as she moved to his left side. But when she gave him a concerned look as she noticed the way he was looking at her, he commented, "My left eye is really blurry."

Jeanne checked both the teenager's eyes and frowned slightly before asking, "Any pain?"

Not liking the possible choices as a result of telling the truth, Harry hesitated before nodding. "It's just a headache… like right behind the eyes. And my right leg feels a little sore." When the doctor drew back the blankets exposing his legs, Harry's heart sank when he saw the familiar bruises on his right leg. It was the same kind of bruising that he'd had 7 years ago. Closing his eyes when he felt the tears welling up in his eyes, Harry only caught snatches of what Dr. Benoit said as she mentioned tests and something about contacting his family.

After a moment to think, Harry finally rattled off his phone number and his uncle's name before turning away from the doctor. He didn't need any tests or medical confirmation to know that the cancer was back. He knew in his gut that he was sick again and dreaded the coming months. There would likely be surgery to remove the tumor followed by multiple rounds of chemotherapy and/or radiation therapy—the second being less awful than the chemo. But that would be if Harry was lucky. If he wasn't—which often seemed to be the case with him—there was a chance he might end up losing his leg…or worse—his life.

But Harry wasn't only thinking of himself. He also thought about his uncle and cousin—well, Dad and sister, really.

Kelly and Jethro Gibbs had always tried to make Harry feel as welcome into the family as possible, even after Shannon's death. Kelly would be there after a nightmare and Gibbs never missed a chance to teach his nephew something—whether it was one of Gibbs' Rules or something as simple as throwing a baseball around. Bottom line, it seemed, was that Harry was Gibbs' son and anyone who ever met the two could hardly tell the difference.

When Harry had first been diagnosed with cancer, it had hit Gibbs hard but at the same time, the former Marine had been nothing but supportive. He'd gone to Harry's treatments when at all possible and if not, he'd made sure that one of the nurses sat with him. Even Kelly would sit with Harry while he was in the hospital or at the outpatient clinic—although this had led to a record number of school absences resulting in Kelly's attending summer school the two years Harry was sick.

And now his family would have to go through the whole mess all over again.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Harry willed himself to try and push everything aside and rest.


Jeanne headed for the nurses' station after drawing blood samples from Harry and making a note on the teenager's chart that a bone marrow biopsy was also needed. She hated seeing the look on the teenager's face—that expression that was resignation mixed with fear and depression—and made a mental note to try again to get a hold of Harry's family. Someone needed to be here with the kid.

After dropping off the blood samples to be sent to the lab and telling one of the nurses about the biopsy, Jeanne heard footsteps behind her and turned to a man and a woman standing there. "Can I help you?" she asked, sizing up the pair. They didn't look like potentials for Harry's family but perhaps these were the two cops who had found the teenager. That seemed possible especially since the woman had on a jogging outfit.

The man smiled as he pulled out a badge and displayed his ID as he replied, "I'm Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and this—" He added, indicating the woman who pulled out her own badge and flipped it open. "—is Officer Ziva David. We're with NCIS. Can you tell us what's going on Harry?"

"You're the two who found him in the park this morning?" Jeanne asked. She found it just a little odd that the two agents knew her patient's name already and wanted to know exactly how much they knew about him but Officer David seemed to sense the question.

"Harry is our boss's nephew," Ziva explained, simply. "I-I was the one who found him in the park this morning while I was on my morning run. Is he going to be okay?"

"Before you start on the confidentiality thing," Tony added, seeing the argument on the doctor's face. "—we are Harry's family."

Despite the honest expression on Agent DiNozzo's face, Jeanne still hesitated for a moment. Patient information was confidential unless the people asking were actually immediate family. But at the same time she could see in Agent DiNozzo's eyes that he viewed Harry as being as good as his own kin. "Are you aware of Harry's medical history?" she asked, curiously.

Ziva nodded once in reply. "We know about Harry's cancer history. Tony was a probationary agent under Gibbs at the time," she added, knowing the doctor was likely looking for further information on whether they could be considered 'extended family'. But the idea that this doctor was bringing up Harry's medical history immediately had Ziva fearing the worst. "Has he relapsed, then?" she asked, being straightforward.

"We don't know for sure, yet," Jeanne replied, even though her every medical instinct was telling her that Harry had relapsed. "We have to wait for the blood tests and biopsy results to come back first.

As Jeanne headed for the elevators after excusing herself, Tony said to Ziva, "I'm going to give Gibbs a sit-rep on Harry. Stay here and keep an eye on the kid. Call me as soon as you know something."

"I'll call Kelly as well," Ziva added, nodding. "She should know what's going on, too."

Darby, England

Hermione Granger couldn't concentrate.

Usually, when it came to schoolwork, she had a laser-focus and could blow through all of her summer assignments in a single week—if she took her time and went a little extra…which she usually did.

As a muggleborn student—a 'mudblood' as some of the students liked to call her—Hermione always felt like she had to do better in her classes than anyone else. Well, not just because of the muggleborn issue, she had to admit. According to her parents, ever since she was a baby, Hermione had always seemed to absorb every little bit of information possible. She'd learned to talk way sooner than anyone expected and always seemed to be a quick study at anything she did.

But all that knowledge and retention of information was what was leading Hermione to be incredibly distracted.

At the end of their 4th year at Hogwarts, Harry had seemed tired and he also seemed to be limping ever so slightly. And while most of the other students hadn't noticed, Hermione's keen eye had taken in everything.

Something was wrong with her best friend—that much was certain. And considering that Harry had started Hogwarts only a few weeks after finishing chemotherapy treatments—the lack of hair had been a dead giveaway—it was only too easy for Hermione to come to the most likely conclusion.

Giving up on further studying, Hermione packed up her trunk and headed downstairs to talk to her parents about going to spend the summer in Washington, DC. Harry's Uncle Jethro had issued the invitation at Christmas this past year and Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to focus on her homework until she saw her best friend.

A/N: I DO plan on getting back to some of my other stories but it will be a while since I lost my original computer files. So I'm having to read through my old stuff and make some new notes. Please bear with me and I'll get back to somewhat regular posting soon.