Criss's POV

A normal afternoon for me overall. Pulling hot chicks out of thin air, levitating myself without wires, grown women screaming and begging me to sign their bodies in permanent marker (seriously, I often thought, get a life).

But while normally I wished it would never end, I wanted more than anything to get home and see my kids. My kids. God. For the first time, they felt real. I was going to go home and see Kimmy, Harry and Hazel. My family. My world. My life.

OK, sorry if that's sappy, I'm gonna say junk like that a lot throughout the course of this fanfic, so get over yourselves.

Anyway, shrieking "'SCUSE ME, PARDON ME, CRISS ANGEL COMING THROUGH!" I dove into my limo (Away from the crowd!) and called up to the driver, "home! And step on it!"

"Want to switch limo's tonight, Criss?" he asked.

"Nah, we're not being followed." I sprawled out on the leather bench and popped open a bottle of water. Truth be told, I wouldn't have cared if everyone in Vegas was five feet behind us. I just wanted to get home as soon as possible. I felt like a total dick for not picking them up at the airport, but Gaga had begged me to perform so hard, cried even, that when I refused anyway, she threatened to sue me for everything I had. I asked her, "why would you want a cat and a stick?" and she strangled me. I hoped the kids understood.

The limo finally pulled up into the driveway. No, I'm not going to describe my house; if I did you'd stalk me. So Ha! And… yet another Ha!


Anyway, the first thing I noticed was a five-year-old girl on the floor, playing with Hammie. Her gap-toothed grin could've made L.G. back down in an instant. "hello." She said in her cute British accent (good god, every girl in my fan base was going to post "OMG, she's so cute" like, a million times on my wall). "Are you my new daddy?"

I grinned at her. "Yeah. I'm Criss. You're Hazel?"

She nodded. "Harry's talking to the nice lady upstairs. Is she our new mummy?"

"Not yet. But, can you keep a secret?" she nodded. "I'm gonna ask her to marry me. Do you know what that means?"

She nodded. "It's like in to kill a mockingbird and Tom was married to that lady and that's why he wouldn't rape Mayella, right?"

"That's it. Then she'll be your mommy." she dumped Hammie off her lap (which he meowed in protest at) and grabbed my leg. "What are you doing?" I picked her up and held her. "Well, that's what kids do when their daddies come home from work, right? Dudley used to hug Unkie Vernon too. Then he said that men don't hug and to mind my own business."

I pushed back her dark red hair. "Let's go see your brother. Yeah?" she nodded.

As I carried her upstairs, I caught the smell of Kimmy's famous cookies. A young adolescent voice said, "Hey, you hear that?"

Kimmy's replied, "Yeah, that's probably Criss." She opened the door and hugged me. "I have a little helper in the kitchen, don't I honey?"

Hazel nods. "She maked us grilled cheeses and stuff. And bacon!"

"Made. Made us grilled cheeses." Harry didn't look as happy as Hazel. In fact, he didn't look happy at all. At most, he looked nostalgic.

Confession time: I didn't know much about their past.

Go ahead, hate on me. I know, it was stupid. But the Dursleys were so desperate to get rid of them, I was all, hey, man that ain't cool, the kids deserve a chance. But the uncle didn't tell us anything but that they were freaks and we were freaks.

Anyway, at dinner, Hazel was talking to Kimmy about girl stuff (shoes, clothes, dolls, god knows what else) and I tried to connect with Harry. He kept looking at me with this faraway look in his eyes, then at Kimmy almost… sadly? No, that's not it. Mournfully. Yeah, that's right. He was looking at her mournfully. "Hey, man, you OK?"

He rubbed his eyes hard. "Yeah. Just… nothing." He put down his half-eaten sandwich and asked to be excused.

After he left, I whistled. "Hoo, boy, what's his problem?"

"He misses our mummy and daddy."

Kimmy and I stared at the redhead child still sitting with us, working through her fourth sandwich. "He does?" Kimmy asked casually.

She nodded. "He remembered our last night as a family. We were having hot dogs that night, Mummy was singing me a lullaby, and Daddy was joking with Harry about school hou-" she blushed as though she'd said too much. No amount of wheedling or begging would get any more out of her. I offered her a cookie. She hates cookies, so I discovered.

After tucking her into her big, pink bed, I went to check on Harry. Putting my ear up to the door, I made out muffled sobs. Fractured words. You don't even… it's not… why would he…. What was he…? I was only seven…

I knocked on the door. "Harry?" no answer. "Harry, can I come in?"

Creaking. Then the doorknob turned. Harry came into view and looked at me with red eyes. "You're my dad now. So you don't really need permission, do you?"

"nah." I answered, "But I got you to open the door." Harry grunted and flopped back onto the bed. He was wearing a t-shirt down to his knees… and nothing else.


Anyway, Harry was silent for a while. I noticed he had started crying again. "Harry?"

"Yes, sir?"

"Don't call me 'sir' kiddo. Just Criss is OK. And, ah… how much do you… remember?"

"A lot." Yeah, he's one for details, this kid. "Where're you sending me and Hazel?"

"The Meadows. It's a private school, k-12. You'll like it."

Harry buried his face in the pillow, glasses and all. "Fat chance." I made out. I covered him in the blanket and started to creep out of the room. "Criss?"

I turned to the lump under the feather blanket that was my adopted son. "Yeah?"

"Why us? Why did you save us?"

As stupid as it may sound, I gave an honest answer. "You guys needed me."

Harry muttered something and was out like a light. What was that? You wanna know what he said?

Well, I thought that'd be obvious.

He repeated himself.

"Fat chance."