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Bruce did not know what to think of Harry Potter.
At first glance, he can easily be seen as unassuming, but at a second glance it is easily noticed that there is more to him than meets the eye.
He is kind, if a bit awkward at times, and has an affinity for baking and writing. Jason says that Harry treats him well, Harry shows it, and Bruce has no reason to assume that he has any ill intentions.
Of course, that doesn’t mean he is going to ignore the obvious signs of a less than stable mindset.
Staring at annotated notes of blood spatter patterns and obvious diagrams for various points of entry in a specific 1990s type house, Bruce wonders if Jason is attracted to people like himself. Unafraid to get their hands bloody, unrepentant about their crimes, and experienced in covering their tracks well.
He is aware that his son is a crime boss, more than aware actually as he has been in the thick of it before, but he is willing to ignore it for Jason. However, does his son truly need to have a partner just as skilled as him?
It endangers not only his entire cover, but himself personally, and Bruce doesn’t want to go through thinking his son is dead again—this time though, it wouldn’t be a faked death. It would be a real death.
“Oh, Mr. Wayne!”
Bruce turns away from the diagrams and takes a few steps into the kitchen, making a show of looking surprised at Harry’s entry.
The short man smiles at him, his hair ruffled and dressed in a shirt that was definitely Jason’s and oversized sweatpants. “I hadn’t realized you were coming over today,” he continues, entirely unaware that Bruce had been snooping through his things.
Bruce smiles at him. “Jason had invited me over to look over some mechanics for his bike,” he replies smoothly, gesturing to his lack of formal wear and that his clothes were casual, but also stained with engine oil and a dirt on the knees.
Harry nods. “He left to get some parts that he didn’t have, but he should be back in about 10 minutes! Do you want some tea or something to eat?” he offers, though he is already in the motions of putting a kettle on the stove and pulling out various containers of tea leaves.
“Chamomile please,” he says diplomatically, taking a few steps back as Harry dominates the kitchen easily. He puts the water in the kettle, pulls out some temper ware dishes from the fridge, and begins to heat up some leftovers.
For a suspected murderer, he is rather motherly, Bruce notes with no small amount of confusion.
He can almost relax around him until Jason comes in, holding two plastic bags that are stretched around sharp metal parts. Harry smiles, Jason kisses his forehead and then waves at Bruce. “B. Harry,” he greets, while his eyes rove around the counter tops at the plate of food Harry set out for him. “Did you solve your issue?” he asks Harry quietly, who immediately nods excitedly.
“Yup! I figured out the blood spatter for a long range shot and a point blank shot, so all I need to do is write out the logistics of it. Sounding smart when you’re an idiot is quite difficult," Harry pouted.
While Jason berated Harry for calling himself an idiot, Bruce is filing away his words for a later time and quickly texts his eldest son about any recent cold case murders in the Bludhaven-Gotham Bay Area.
Bruce does not know if he can deal with another possible crime boss-murderer in the family. All the stress of worrying about Jason being caught has already caused his hair to gray. He doesn't think he can take another one.
Dick Grayson was suspicious.
Little Wing got himself a boyfriend, and he's 90% sure said boyfriend is a literal serial killer. And yeah, Jason himself is a crime lord.. but this Harry Potter dude might try to hurt his brother!
Which is completely unacceptable even if he knows Jason can defend himself.
Therefore, the only logical thing to do is stage an intervention.
He starts by cornering Jason after patrol so he won't have a convenient excuse to leave the conversation.
“Little Wing, I have some concerns about this boyfriend of yours,” Dick starts gently.
Jason pauses halfway through taking his gear off.
“Elaborate,” he states curtly.
“Well, my first impression of him was that he seems kind of… off.” He hesitates for half a second before blurting in one breath, “And I.. maybehadBabslookathissearchhistory.”
Jason pauses for a few seconds to process the word vomit before he bursts out laughing.
“I promise he's not a serial killer Dickhead, he's just writing a new book series,” Jason manages to get out between chuckles.
Dick sputters in disbelief.
“His search history is extremely concerning, Jason! And lots of criminals have suspiciously been going missing and being found dead by the exact same cause of death that he's supposedly ‘researching for his book’,” Dick says sarcastically while using air quotes.
Jason sighs and says, “Look, Dick. I understand what this all looks like. But I promise he's not going around murdering people in the night. Just, give him a chance? Please?”
And Dick folds like a wet paper bag.
Later, Dick tries to be supportive of Jason's relationship by reading the first book of his boyfriend's book series. But the more he reads, the more the story looks suspiciously similar to a case he was working on that went cold.
Harry Potter is totally a serial killer.
Dick had some concerns about Jason's new boyfriend, and so now Tim was roped into helping Babs do what's basically a background check. Tim was put in charge of this Harry Potter guy's search history and bank statements.
He started with the bank statements. If there's any suspicious purchases or money laundering it wouldn't be difficult for Tim to find.
Hours later and, try as he might, the only purchases were for groceries, an occasional clothing item, and a strangely large number of notebooks and pens.
Hm.
Either this guy is completely innocent, or has a secret second bank account under an alias.
For now, Tim will move on to his search history.
Oh boy.
Well Tim thinks a search history like that kind of speaks for itself.
‘how long does it take for someone to die after being stabbed in the stomach’
‘human anatomy’
‘can people survive without a liver’
‘how long does it take cyanide to kill someone’
Etc, etc..
Tim doubts it's just curiosity, and nothing else would make sense. This guy is a certified wackjob, but to be fair so is Jason.
He shudders.
A match made in Hell, in his humble opinion.
Damian does not understand why Todd's partner is so interested in his blades.
He continues to question him about the types, about the uses, about the techniques used to wield them, and though he is suspicious, Damian will not pass up the chance to educate any person on the superiority of blades. Especially when Todd has been trying to convince Potter to carry a concealed firearm on his person at all times. Potter, apparently, never carried a weapon on himself.
According to him, he didn't leave him apartment enough to warrant it and usually just ordered everything to his house if he could. There was no reason for him to leave, especially if he avoided all reasons that would warrant him to.
"Do you think you could make a cartridge inside the handle of any of these blades to hide a poison in them?" Potter questions, holding up his notepad where he had been taking extensive notes on the knowledge Damian had been imparting onto him.
Damian might just enjoy Potter's company, especially as he is aware of who his betters are and he is a meticulous note taker. Obviously he is a very organized person.
That is a tick in his favor, Damian supposes.
"That is possible," Damian says as he takes one of his favored daggers off his wall. "However, doing it in a smaller blade is far more efficient and wiser. Due to its dimunitive size, it is much easier to handle, hide, and the handle is actually far better for hiding poisons than most blades. However, it would just be more effective to hide a dart on your person and inject it into their carotid artery."
Potter nods, scribbling something down frantically. "And what would the size of this part be, per se?"
Damian places the dagger back up onto his wall and then gestures with his hands. "Between 7 and 12 centimetres is optimal. Though it should not have a large diameter, to avoid detection as you want it to be able to hide well. Long and slim is your best choice."
"I see..." Potter smiled a grin that is on par with Grayson's usual grin. "Thank you very much, Damian! Your help is much appreciated."
Damian nods. "It was a tolerable experience," he allows before he leads Potter of his room.
And then he goes to his Father's office and knocks on the door. Grayson is there, perched on Father's desk, and they are talking in hushed tones with solemn, contemplative looks. "Father, Grayson," he greets. "Potter just inquired extensively on my blades and how to hide a poison within them. Would you perhaps know anything about what this is about?"
Grayson sighs, rubbing his nose, and Father presses his lips into a thin line. "Damian, come in. We should discuss this, I believe. I will call Cass here as well."
Harry is an artist, Cass notices.
He creates pictures with his words, but sometimes he creates pictures with gentle strokes of a pencil. He draws, sketches, colors, and he does it quietly, with great focus but a quiet passion that flames brighter than the wildest fire on the paper.
Usually, she enjoys listening to him sketch. Sometimes he sits with her in the gym, watching her dance and attempts to create the same grace she holds in the air on paper. And it is rare that he does not recreate it. He is just talented like that, though he will constantly deny it with red cheeks and a proud quirk to his lips.
He is nice to be around. He does not begrudge her for wishing to not speak, instead learning Sign Language to make her comfortable. Even if his dexterity concerning his signs leaves much to be desired.
But now, she cannot say that she enjoys watching him sketch because she stands over his shoulder and watches blood spill from his hands and onto paper. She watches people break, contort in ways the body is not meant to, and she watches horror spin from his head and into reality.
They are reminiscent of the murders Dick has pinned up in their board in Dad's office, all of the murders that have run cold and are terrifyingly similar to those in Harry's books.
She shakes her head and turns on her music, rolls her shoulders and begins to dance. She dances until she is dizzy, until her limbs ache, and until she is alone in the room. Except there is a sketchbook lying just 15 feet from her, open and unaccompanied.
Quietly, quickly, Cass takes pictures. She takes pictures of various sketches she recognizes. Then they are all texted to Dad, and when Harry comes back in, Cass is dancing again and he does not know what they know.
He does not know that they know.
Jason was spending his Friday night relaxing with his boyfriend when he received a text from Bruce.
‘Family dinner tomorrow at 6pm. Bring your partner.’
‘We'll be there’
Although Jason knows the dinner is just an excuse to interrogate his boyfriend, he's excited nonetheless to introduce his boyfriend to his family.
“Hey, Har. We're having dinner with my family tomorrow,” Jason says faux casually, internally hoping his boyfriend wants to go.
Harry hums absently, “Alright, I'll need help choosing an outfit.”
Because while Harry may be slightly distracted, he knows how much Jason's family means to him (even if they don't always get along).
The next day saw Jason and Harry knocking on the large front doors to Wayne Manor.
They were swiftly let inside by Alfred with the information that dinner would be ready soon.
Jason spent the time before dinner showing Harry his favorite room in the manor: the library. They could've spent hours locked up in there, but alas, they have prior plans.
“You'll have to take me here again sometime, it has a nice vibe for writing," Harry tells Jason.
Jason nods, rubbing his knuckles against Harry's softly, as they enter the dining room. Everybody is already there, the air is a bit tense, though Harry beams at the entirety of his family anyway. "Hello!" he chirps, immediately wandering over to give them their customary greeting hug/fist-bump/hair ruffle.
Everybody acts sort of normal for the beginning of the dinner, but Jason is on edge watching them and trying to understand why they are so tense. Bruce is acting odd, checking his phone periodically, and he cannot understand what is going on between them.
Sometime into the lull of conversation, Harry's book is brought up by Dick. Harry casually mentions some of the research that he had to do, not including how many criminals Jason had to practice on so that he could have the assurance that it was realistic. Besides, they were all on Jason's eventual hit list and they weren't entirely too important to him.
"Actually, we wanted to talk to you about that."
Harry cocks his head to the side curiously and hums. "About what? My book?"
Bruce nods. Dick interjects easily, a smile plastered on his face, and Jason narrows his eyes suspiciously. "Yes. And about the fact that all of the crime scenes in your books are a match to various cold cases I've been working on."
Jason connects the dots first, because Harry looks so helplessly confused. "You think he committed those murders," he deadpans, entirely unimpressed with them. "I thought I told you not to worry about that and that he isn't a serial killer."
Dick goes to defend himself, but Harry laughs then, so loudly and so brightly, that it makes Jason almost laugh with him. Their are faces of varying confusion and suspicion aimed their way. Harry giggles and takes a sip of his tea, almost snorting it out of his nose when he looks up at Bruce. "I'm not a serial killer, Mr. Wayne. Just a writer with a search history that looks incredibly suspicious. I've been accused of this more times than you know. Besides, why would I be a serial killer when my boyfriend is a crime boss with a hit list?"
"WHAT?"