Harry and the Six Virgins

Chapter IX

"Good afternoon, Eloise."

Eloise bounded up from her chair. "I'm first?" she asked in a frightened voice.

"Every one experiences about the same amount of waiting time," Casey told her. "However, since I sense it will put you at ease, no, you are not first. I won't say where you are in the order, but you are not the first or last."

"Good." Eloise looked at her boots. "I've never even come close to kissing anyone. I wouldn't want to have to be Harry's first."

Casey smiled. "Let's see you at twenty-four."

"That can't be me!"

Casey laughed lightly. "You are what is known as a 'late-bloomer.'

"My feet are still too big and my legs are too short" she complained. "Of course, if I grew into the feet, I'd be six foot tall, or so, right? Instead of, what?"

"Five foot eight and a half, just a bit more than a shade under Harry's height as an adult. Your legs are actually a shade longer than average for your total height. And your feet are not that large. And look at those lovely long, sensitive fingers. You will be able to drive a man mad with passion, especially someone like Harry."

"Really?"

"He has led an almost totally loveless life until this adventure. Massage him, be tactile. Now, look at your front. Your backside was not the only part of you that grew up."

"Wow! those must be. . . ."

"I'm not certain of British sizes; in America you'd be a 42DD-24-35. And look at that face. We could put that face in a dictionary to define cute, sweet, and adorable."

"But I'll never look like that!"

Casey shook his head. "When you look into a mirror, you frown, you make faces. This face is a bit blank, but that slight smile shows how pretty you can be." He considered. "I think your hair here is so full from art rather than nature, but the rest is all you. You need to use Muggle conditioner."

"I'm . . . attractive!"

"'Adorable' would be even more accurate. Now tell me, why did you agree to this?"

Eloise went a little pale, but answered. "Look at me, or at least how I looked before you cleaned up my scars! Ugly; skinny; no shape at all, unless 'stick-like' is a shape! Everyone's made fun at me, except Hermione and Harry. I know he's not in love with me or anything, but he's at least been nice to me. And he asked for me." She sniffled a little. "No one has ever asked for me in my entire life! How could I say no?"

"I think, after your little adventure, you'll know your true worth, Eloise. I think it's time you got used to your future body."

"Does that mean I don't have a choice?"

"I remind you, this is not totally real. You will have the memories, but your bodies will be just as they are now. You are a virgin. You will remain one, except in your memories, assuming you and Harry decide to make love. Do you want the adventure, or not?"

Eloise chewed her lower lip for nearly half a minute. "I think I had better try," she finally said. "Not to know would be worse than failing."

"There is no reason to fear the future, especially not for the next two subjective months. But first, I'm afraid, we're going to have to change you a little. The styles where you're going demands corsets, and those take some getting used to."

"Oh! I love the looks of those!"

"Let's hope you enjoy the feel! These are the real thing."

Harry looked around, and at first he wondered if he was back in Paris instead of Vienna. The style of the room he was in nearly matched his dressing room in the Parisian wizarding hotel. 'Of course,' Harry thought, 'wizarding styles don't change as fast as the Muggle. I just hope they have a properly functioning bath and loo.' He wondered what year he was in. Since he was apparently going to have to be thought of as his own father, he had guessed it would have to be somewhere between 1875 and 1885. He had found a number of history books in the cabin which allowed him to have a better idea of what to expect from Muggle Vienna than he had for Paris.

The door opened, and Casey came in alone. Harry noted that he now sported a full beard and mustache.

"Oh, good!"

"What is it, Harry?"

"May I talk with you . . . privately?"

"Of course. Eloise is still getting ready. What do you need to talk about?" Casey asked in a curious and friendly voice.

"Hermione. Does she want to specifically go to Rome?"

Casey pondered that. "No; overall, I would have to say no. It does meet the parameters she suggested, however. Do you have an alternative?"

"Could we go to the cabin? In the late spring or summer?"

Casey looked puzzled. "Hermione does not strike me as the domestic type."

Harry brushed that away. "I can do most of that. You must have a huge library Hermione could borrow books from. That's what would please her most."

"And what about you?"

"What about me? I'm sure I'll be practicing dueling here, and maybe where ever you send me with Luna, and since Luna is last, that's the most important. And I'll probably be doing at least as much practicing with Hermione as I did this last month at the cabin."

"You and Susan must have had a fantastic time together, if you want to duplicate it with Hermione."

Harry gave Casey a dirty look. "Don't be disgusting! I can sleep on one the large sofas if Hermione doesn't want to be . . . close."

"You don't love her? You're not attracted to her?"

"I thought Hermione was attractive, if bossy, from the first time I saw her. Do I love her? That's like asking someone if they love their hand. I could no more easily live without Hermione in my life than I could without a hand. And she and Ron seem to belong together, as a couple. This would be the one chance we have to . . . be intimate, but THAT will be Hermione's decision."

Casey stared at Harry. "My gods, you're serious, are you?"

"I am. Look, I don't know how you're testing me to see if I'm worth helping, but don't hurt Hermione to do it."

"Are you sure you don't love her?"

Harry gave a tired smile. "I think we would drive each other nuts if we lived together in a one-on-one relationship of any kind for the rest of our lives. I'd be better off with Luna. But yes, I love her. I adore Hermione. She's sexy as hell. But tell me, does that mean we'd be good for each other?"

"Perhaps not. I shall put the idea to Hermione. I'll give her three choices: Rome as a female; Rome as a male; or the cabin. I'll be right back."

Casey popped away, and then popped back a few seconds later. "I don't know what she'll decide. I'll let her think about it for a while. Let's see if Eloise is ready."

She was. It was hard for Harry to judge Eloise's looks, other than the fact that she was stunning. She was dressed as a Muggle, waist corseted tight and pushing her now-large breasts up. The bustle looked even odder than Harry had thought it would, and the skirt of course totally obscured her legs. Still, from what Harry could see, Eloise was very different than the shy mouse he was used to seeing. He was by now wise enough not to comment on the changes, and merely complimented Eloise on her style.

"We are in a Muggle townhouse on the outskirts of central Vienna. It is Friday, April Twenty-second, 1881. We are taking a cab the inn which marks the entrance to Vienna's Parsifalplatz, their version of Diagon Alley. We will not be staying at the inn itself, but at a hotel inside the Platz. Tell me, Eloise, do you like to dance?"

"I've never danced," she said. "I really like listening and watching old-style dances, though."

"I hope you like to waltz," Harry said. "Vienna was waltz crazy throughout most of the nineteenth century."

Eloise smiled, but then lost it as she turned to Casey. "Who are we? Oh, and I don't know much German!"

"You do know French, Latin, and Italian, which should be sufficient most of the time," Casey answered. "Now, you are Eloise and Henry Porter. . . ."

Eloise gasped as she noticed the wedding bands for the first time.

"Do we all get to keep these?" Harry asked. "They'd be nice souvenirs."

"Of course, Harry," Casey answered. "I am Stefan Causey, a black agent of the Cartel of Magic. You are both from one of the small self-sustaining communities in western Canada; there is no need for greater detail than that. Feel free to refer any further inquiries to me. Harry will be practicing dueling weekday mornings, and there will be quite an array of parties, balls, receptions, and concerts to attend in the evenings, some lasting quite late." He escorted them out to a waiting fiacre.

Casey pointed out the new construction as the horse carriage passed by the new Ring street that encircled the center of the city. They finally pulled off onto a street where there were various inns, a new department store, restaurants, a theater, and a large hotel. The Muggles on the street walked right past a narrow inn, whose sign showed a broken broomstick.

Casey held the door for the young pair, and then followed them into the darkened inn.

"Well, Marius, it looks like we should not drink so close to the dregs, their muddy relatives just flow in." A large group of wizards were sneering at the trio from the first table.

Harry gave the speaker a dirty look, and then looked again. It was Hermann Eichmann, looking exactly as he did when Casey killed him in the dream fragment. "Excuse us, we thought there were honorable wizards in this city, not drunken idiots," Casey snarled, as he pushed the slightly confused Eloise (who couldn't quite follow the Viennese dialect of German) slightly behind himself and Harry.

Eichmann and two of the wizards with him made gestures towards their wands, but they were already covered by Harry and Casey. "Drinking and dueling do not go together, sirs. And even by your silly standards, we are as 'pure' as you are. If we wish to mingle in Muggle Vienna on our visit, is it really any concern of yours?"

"Brave words," the youngest wizard sneered. "You don't know who you might be dealing with!"

"I assure you, Herr Grindelwald, I know exactly who and what you people are," Casey answered. "Now, if you will excuse us? You may attend us Monday afternoon, if you are interested. We are staying at the Silver Dragon."

They exited the inn, and Casey told them the entrance code was the same as Diagon Alley. Parsifalplatz looked much more like Diagon Alley than the wizarding area in Paris had. That did not mean it was identical, but they still looked to have much the same layout and architectural style. Like Diagon Alley, it went some length and then split into two branches at a branch of Gringotts. The Silver Dragon was across from the bank.

Whereas most of the staff in Paris had been goblins and elves, here all turned out to be human and elf. Like the hotel in Paris, rooms were reached by moving stone staircases. Harry felt almost like an expert as he helped Eloise ascend.

Their suite of rooms was even larger than those in Paris had been. Eloise sat on a fainting sofa while Harry and Casey found seats. "When does Eichmann go to your valley?" Harry asked, switching to French so Eloise could understand the conversation more easily.

"He should be on his way soon. The confrontation is tomorrow afternoon, and my attack on the meeting is tomorrow night."

"Hence the beard and mustache."

"Exactly. I do not think anyone who saw me and survived could recognize me, but I thought it best to take these simple precautions."

"So we stay in the hotel and Platz until Monday morning?" Eloise asked.

"That would be best," Casey agreed. "It is a little after Two. I shall leave you two to become acquainted. Your house elves are Linni and Efrik. They should show upbetween Five and Six. We go down to dine a little before Seven thirty. Dress shall be wizard, of course."

After Casey left, Harry and Eloise looked at each other. Harry wasn't certain what to do. Ginny, Daphne, and even Susan had all been, if not always aggressive, at least willing to give him a hint. Eloise merely sat there, looking nervous.

'Well,' Harry thought, 'why shouldn't she be nervous?' "Is that outfit . . . comfortable?"

"Amazing enough, I find it is," Eloise answered. Silence descended for a few awkward moments. "I look a lot different, don't I?"

"Yes, you do," Harry agreed. "I wouldn't have recognized you," he admitted.

Eloise caught sight of herself in a mirror, and smiled. For once, she really was in control of a situation, and she knew what she would like to do. She therefore took a deep breath and said, "I suppose, if we're to dress in robes, you'll have to help me out of all this. One really needs help to dress like this."

At precisely 3:00, a house elf popped into the bedroom. "Master? Mistress?"

"What is it?" Eloise demanded through clenched teeth, her hands gripping the sheets.

"Master Stefan told Linni to come early and ask if you would be dining with him or here tonight?"

Harry moved up to nibble on Eloise's ear, making her giggle before she could say, "HERE!" Harry licked a bit lower, his hands still moving.

"When and what would Master and Mistress like to dine?"

"Harry! Stop doing that and answer the elf!"

"Would a bottle of decent claret, consomme, followed by chops, roasted potatoes, and either peas or string beans, a chocolate torte for two, and a cheese platter be possible?" Harry managed to ask before going back to lick Eloise's shoulder and throat.

"Yes, Master."

"Come again at Seven fifteen, and we'll dine here at Eight."

"Yes, Master." The elf disappeared.

"Now, where were we?"

"Your lips were here, your left hand was there, and your . . . THAT'S RIGHT!"