Teamwork

Notes: Thanks to Calanthe for beta work and Britpicking, and to Atropos-lee for extra discussion of London Chinatown. Any mistakes are my own.

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<>>9 -- Alterations

Harry yawned, stretched, and pulled out some fresh clothing from his trunk. He started to pull on the jeans, and then, wrinkling his nose, cast a cleaning charm on himself. The shop had a loo, but no bath or shower, and he probably ought to visit the twins' flat soon; cleaning charms could only do so much. On the other hand, he was finally an adult wizard, and could at least cast them unnoticed.

Once he was dressed, he finished last night's Thai noodles, wrote a short note to Remus to have the twins send later, and then conjured a mirror to set a glamour on himself. Susara rippled across the table to look at the new object.

"Hi, beautiful," he said softly. "You were asleep."

"Now, I am awake," she answered simply. Her scarlet tongue flickered out. "Why this ice?"

The mirror, she meant. Harry smiled. "I am going out, but I cannot be seen, so I am changing my appearance. I can see what I am doing in the ice."

Curious, Susara circled behind the mirror and then back in front of it. She didn't seem to notice her own image. Harry brought his hand to the surface and touched his fingers to their reflection. He could feel her understanding. It reminded him of light returning as the sun emerged from a cloud.

"Clever, Master," she said approvingly. "After this, will you change your scent?"

Harry laughed. "People are not good with scent."

Her upper third twitched back in surprise. "How sad! Even you?"

"Even me," Harry informed her. "So I only need to change what I look like. It would be easy, if I did not have this scar."

She reared up, coming strangely close to his eyes to look at the scar. He could feel her distaste as she tested the air in front of it. "It feels like another man." She sent a flash of frustration. "Not scent, exactly...."

"It was left by an enemy," he explained. "My enemy. Magic cannot change it, but if I make my hair look like just the right red...." He found the color in the mirror. "There! Now the lines of it look like the hair above. It becomes hard to notice."

That done, Harry made himself look heavier, especially in the face. When he was satisfied with his appearance, he extended his hand to Susara. "Do you want to ride?"

With a flicker of tongue and a warm feeling of agreement, Susara spiraled onto his wrist and up his arm. Harry put on his Invisibility Cloak and slipped out the deliveries door into the narrow walk between the twins' future shop and the next building. It was time to scout Knockturn Alley.

In a hidden alcove a few doors down, he took off the cloak and stowed it in his bag. From what Draco had said, he gathered that some shops had security charms that would detect an invisible person entering. It was safer to be seen.

The people on the street were just as unpleasant as he remembered, but from an adult perspective, he found more of them pathetic than frightening. Of course, he amended to himself as he sidestepped a grab from a hunched man with sharply pointed teeth, the scary ones might actually be more frightening now. What he found himself watching for was not hags or half-trolls or wild-eyed addicts, but the people who were a little too well dressed and too focused for the area...

"Come inside, good sir," a voice invited him. "We have the most eager young girls--"

... a class that apparently included him. Harry shot the speaker a contemptuous look and kept walking.

The Troll and Club was a rowdy, dirty pub, with dried vomit on the street in front of it and streaks on the walls. Without it, Harry would not have seen Caligula's Cauldron. The entrance was discreet, the windows darkened, but the stench, when he entered the place, horrific. All apothecaries smelled odd, but this one smelled like dead things, and Harry tried not to think too much about what 'anything' could include. Susara tightened around his arm.

An old man, two stray teeth lost in his wrinkled mouth, grimaced at him from behind the counter.

"And who are you?" he spat.

Harry tensed. "A potential customer," he huffed. For a moment, the man looked him up and down, and then he gestured at the shop, which ran in one narrow room, bisected by waist-height bins and barrels, from front to back. Harry glanced at the bins and the dimly lit shelves, but had no desire to look more closely at them. Instead, he stepped up to the counter.

"I'm looking for--" Something from a Red Cap, he meant to say, but the words wouldn't come out. "-- Sphinx feathers."

The man's eyebrows, which were thick and tangled, came up. Harry got the feeling that they didn't do that often. Indeed they descended back into a scowl almost immediately.

"You could look a long time," he said. "Sphinxes are rare enough. Winged ones?" He spat on the floor. "Vicious besides."

Harry narrowed his eyes at the man. "I was told that you could get things. Rare things."

"For those that has the gold, yeah, I can."

"I expect I do."

"Don't dress like it."

"You expect me to walk down Knockturn Alley in silk?"

"Toffs don' walk down the Alley." The man sneered at him. "They floo in straight."

Harry rolled his eyes. He had to work to keep his head still, so that his scar would stay covered. "How much," he said clearly, "for two sphinx feathers?"

The man snorted, but he looked more interested now. "Sixty G apiece," he answered. "If I can get 'em. All up front."

Harry knew he should talk the man down, but being treated as too poor to deal with rankled. "Forty-five," he countered. "None up front."

"So you can steal 'em when they come in? Get out o' here."

Harry took out his purse. He had fifteen galleons in it, and another fifteen hidden in an inner pocket of his robes. It was enough, he hoped, to impress. "I'm good for it," he said, spilling money into his hand.

"That's not ninety."

"I don't carry ninety on a scouting trip."

"Well, I don't order without prepayment. Give me your name and address, and I might consider it."

"Give me your floo name, and I might come back with more."

"Caligula's Cauldron."

Harry nodded. "Simple enough. If I order, what surety will you give me?"

After he left Knockturn Alley, Harry still felt like the grime of it was clinging to him. He needed to go somewhere normal, he decided, and settled on Flourish & Blotts. He could get a book on far-seeing or possibly something on hexes. As he entered the shop, he wondered where he could find information on Red Caps. Draco's theory on their usefulness made sense; he knew it did. The problem was, that he couldn't help thinking of them as sort of people-like -- too much so to use parts from. Were they really, though, or were they just people-shaped, like doxies? They were vicious, he knew, and he wouldn't mind killing one in a fight. Buying parts, though, seemed macabre. Bones, especially, might look like the bones of a child. He shuddered, remembering the apothecary on Knockturn Alley. A place like that might actually try that counterfeit, if they thought the customer couldn't tell the difference.

Flourish & Blotts had a Dark Creatures section at the top of the Magical Creatures shelves, and there was an adults-only section at the back of the shop that he had heard was more Dark Arts than sex -- maybe that would have information on potions. Feeling uncomfortable, he ducked into the empty Household Charms aisle and swung his cloak on.

As Harry was hurrying towards the restricted section of the shop, a large bulk suddenly cut into the stacks in front of him. He dodged as best he could, but there was little leeway. He didn't fall down, or lose the cloak, or crush Susara, but he crashed into the other person, who lurched forward, spilling books on the floor around him. She dove down to gather them -- it was Millicent Bulstrode, he realized -- slammed bruisingly into his legs, and froze.

"Watch it," he whispered, crouching. Remembering his promise to Draco, he thought he ought to help with the books. He decided it was safe to let his hands emerge. "Sorry, Bulstrode. I'm wearing an invisibility cloak."

"Go away!" One of her large hands grabbed at the book he was holding, and the motion startled Harry into looking down at the cover. Permanent Sex Change with Potions it read. Harry was still staring when it was pulled from his hands.

"Tell me who you are, now!"

"Harry." He pulled his right hand back to ready his wand. "Harry Potter."

"Oh fucking hell! Look it's just research, got it? If you say a word to anyone --"

"What?" Cancelling the glamour, Harry pushed back the hood of his cloak to meet her eyes. "Look, why would I--"

Breathing heavily, like someone about to attack, she stared at him, her small eyes sharp in her heavy face. "Name your price," she said flatly.

"No price." Harry shrugged. "It's all right, Bulstrode."

"NO, IT ISN'T!" Bulstrode dropped her voice. "Perfect little Granger will send me witch's empowerment pamphlets, and my parents--"

Harry was distressed by the near-hysterical tension behind the words. "I won't tell. I swear." He looked down at the more generic Dark Draughts, picked it up, and handed it to her. "Look ... can you maybe do me a favor? If you're planning -- oh hell, this is awkward. Come somewhere where we can talk privately?"

She looked at him grimly. Harry wondered if he was going to be hit, but she merely stood and nodded. "Let's go."

She was still expecting him to name terms, he realized suddenly. He could blackmail her. Embarrassed, he flipped the hood of his cloak back over his head. "Come on, then. Buy your books and we'll go. The Leaky Cauldron will do."

Bulstrode walked silently down the street, her wrapped purchases clutched to her wide chest. She didn't say anything as she entered the Leaky Cauldron, and he whispered for her to wait while he spoke to Tom. When they were in the back salon, and Harry slipped his cloak off, she remained silent, staring straight ahead like a soldier on review. Harry was still wondering how to begin when Tom appeared with a platter of cheeses, breads, sausage, and apples, and a pitcher of ale. Harry nodded, thanked him, and threw in an extra five galleons with his payment, hoping that was enough to keep the man silent, at least for the hour. Tom tugged respectfully at his cap and closed the door behind him when he left. Harry cast his own privacy charm at it.

He sat down and cut a slice off one of the apples. Bulstrode was still standing. "Sit," he said.

Stony-faced, she sat. "Your price, Potter."

Irritated, he let out a harsh sigh. "Will you listen? I won't tell. Have some food, will you?"

"If it was that simple, you wouldn't have paid for a private room." Despite her words, she poured herself a mug of the ale and sliced a chunk off the sausage.

"Look," Harry hazarded, "I don't have any idea of how magical sex-change works, but I saw you had potions books. Shouldn't there be a charm for that?"

She laughed harshly. "Dozens, Potter. They work in seconds and can be undone as quickly."

"Is that a problem?"

"Yes, it's a problem! If my parents can just grab me and change me back, don't you think they will?"

He shrugged and took some of the cheddar. "No idea. Raised by Muggles, you know." He grinned at her. "Enlighten me."

"My parents have money, but because of my grandfather, not status. And despite efforts that I hear far too much about, I'm an only child. They want me to make a good marriage."

"Couldn't you marry a girl?" The look she sent him was so withering that he had to qualify. "As a man, I mean."

"I understood that." She scowled. "No. It's unacceptable. Scandalous. I'll be considered damaged goods. The only reason for anyone to marry me would be for me."

She smiled slightly at that, despite her fear, and in that instant, Harry knew that he would help her in any way he could. He had to take a swallow of ale to clear his throat.

"Do you really want to be a man, though?" he asked. "Or just to avoid being married off?"

She sighed and stared at the bread in her hands. "Look, I'm a horrible girl, and I'll be even worse as a woman. The troll blood shows too much. And I don't like it, either. I'm much happier as a Slytherin Beater, where I'm treated as one of the boys....."

Troll blood. That's true, then. "If you're a man, though, you'll still...." He trailed off, realizing that he had left no tactful way to continue.

"Be a hulking, coarse-featured goon? Yeah. Sometimes people don't mind that in men, though."

"I--" He looked at her -- really looked -- at her rough face and broad torso and muscular arms and intimidating height, and tried to imagine that she didn't have breasts the size of melons. "Okay. I can see what you mean. You wouldn't be my type, as a bloke, but you'd be impressive."

She sat back, looking relieved. "Thanks." Her face screwed up in a sour smile. "So...."

"So it looks like you're planning to do something with potions."

She nodded. "Somehow. I've heard there's a six month course that would take years to reverse...." Trailing off, she shrugged. "I'm still researching, though. Now why do you care? If, as you claim, you won't tell?"

This was it. Harry realized that he was nervously turning a piece of cheese into crumbs, but he couldn't manage to stop. "Look, I need to obtain some proscribed ingredients, and I expect that you do too, is that right?"

She sighed. "Obviously."

"It's occurred to me that those purchases may actually be less suspicious made together. I mean, the things I want may indicate what I'm doing, and the things you want may indicate what you're doing, but if one of us buys both...."

"I'm not taking your risks for you, Potter. I haven't even figured out how to get what I need myself."

"I'm one of 'us' too, you know, and I have potential connections." He traced the grain of the tabletop between them. "What do you need?"

"Not from Professor Snape."

Harry sighed. "No. Well, I'll get some things from him, but no, I wouldn't risk anything of yours, and most of mine can't be through him, because Dumbledore might find out, and curiously, I no longer want Snape fired. Other connections."

Her eyes narrowed. "You're offering to help me."

"Yeah."

"What do you want, Potter?"

He had to answer that with something, he realized. She would never stop being suspicious if he didn't. "Well," he said, "look after Draco for me? I mean, I can't protect him in Slytherin, and you're strong...."

She nodded thoughtfully. "I can do that. Not in his dormitory, obviously, but in the Common Room. Will you keep him from reporting me? If I need to be out late brewing?"

Harry nodded. "I can arrange that. I might even be able to get you a safe place to do it."

"Yeah?"

"I've brewed long term potions on the sly before." He grinned at the look on her face. "Okay, I've helped Hermione do it -- better?"

At Hermione's name, she made a face. "Less frightening at least."

Calmer, now that she thought she knew his price, she topped off her ale and leaned back in her chair. "So, did you mean it about buying for me?"

"Possibly. Why don't you do your research, and we can discuss what you need next week?"

She nodded. "Meet here, same time?"

Harry wasn't sure it would be safe to come back here, now that he had revealed himself to old Tom, but he considered it. After a minute, he shrugged. "It might be safe; it might not. Just come to Diagon Alley, okay? And I'll send you a message."

She snorted. "Paranoid much, Potter?"

"It's not paranoia if they really are out to get you," he returned with a grin, and got back a laugh in response.

"True enough. Same time next week, then."

Harry finished his beer, put on his cloak, and left the Leaky Cauldron on the Muggle side. He came back an hour later, in the guise of the red-haired man, with provisions for three, and made his way back to the shop. He found Fred and George there, busily setting up their workroom.

"Hi. I brought food."

"We found your note."

"Are you supposed to be out?"

"I was careful."

One of the twins snorted and looked meaningfully at the food that Harry was laying out on the top of a crate.

"Not enough," the other said. He peered at the round, glossy buns. "What are those?"

"The label said 'pork bun'. They're from Chinatown -- in Muggle London, and I used a glamour."

"Why were you there?"

"I've never been. And I was bored, and I'm not likely to be noticed, there." He grinned. "And the gate has a Gryffindor color scheme."

"So you bought food you couldn't identify?" George picked up one of the buns, bit into it, and twitched.

"Isn't that the point?" Harry countered. "Is it awful?" He picked up another one.

"No -- good, really."

"That's not what your face said," Harry observed, but took a small bite off his, anyway.

"I was just startled. It's sweet."

"Let me try." Fred pounced on the remaining bun. "Mm."

"Anyway," George said, "glamours are chancy."

Harry shrugged, the motion tight. "I can't stay here all the time, though. And I have things I should buy."

The twins came up, one to either side of him, one swallowing quickly.

"We were talking about that..."

"... and when it would happen."

"And we have an idea."

"Oh?" Harry asked. "What?"

"We have some polyjuice--"

"-- though we'll only give you one dose at a time --"

"-- and only if you promise not to do anything we wouldn't do."

Harry grinned. "I think I can manage that. After all, my boyfriend is at Hogwarts."

The twin on his left -- Fred, he thought, though he'd lost track when they moved -- laughed. "Quite right."

"Neither of us would snog a Malfoy."

"Though he's not that bad --"

"-- for a Malfoy."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I'll settle for that, I suppose."

"Oh, and speaking of your boyfriend...." George said, in a singsong voice.

"You have a letter."

"Does he write to you every day?"

Harry shrugged, trying not to look too eager as he reached for the thick envelope. "A couple of times a week, usually," he answered, and ignored their sniggers in favor of extracting the thick parchment.

The first thing that Harry noticed about the letter was the bookmark contained in the folds of it. It was a thin wooden bookmark, carved into a lace-like pattern at the curved top, and it was encased in a vellum sleeve. On both sides of the sleeve, someone had written "Read letter before opening". The hand was not Draco's, but it looked familiar. Harry turned to the letter.

Dear Harry,

Mr. Lupin contacted me yesterday. At first, I couldn't think how he made it into the school, but then I remembered -- he knows about one of the tunnels, so he may well know about the others. At any rate, it was quite a shock to see him in the back corridor by the bust of Sir Belduf.

I told him I didn't know where you were, and he quite amiably informed me that he didn't believe me. He then swore a fairly simple but powerful oath to me, binding him to keep your secrets of your location and my collusion if you came to him of your free will. (It explicitly left him free to do as he pleases if he finds you.) He also gave me the included bookmark, which he says is a two-way portkey to and from his home. I leave the decision up to you. Please let me know if you believe I should inform Professor Dumbledore of his intrusion into the castle.

Professor McGonagall, who has been on holiday, returned to the school, today. It is apparently time to start planning for the new students. As you might expect, she had some questions stemming from my testimony. I have tried to stay to matters that she already knew about, but hearing about it again has put her in a strop. The problem reminded me of our plans last spring -- do you think an independent study project with her might get you back in her good graces, and perhaps improve her opinion of me? We would need to think of something that we would actually like to learn, of course. I had been thinking of your foray into metalworking before Easter. That's on the edges of Transfiguration, of course; do you know if she has any interest in that area?

The Council of Birthright and Family Affairs will be reviewing my case next week. Wish me luck!

Love,

Draco

Harry smiled as he refolded the letter. "Well." Looking up, he found both twins staring at him with identical expressions of confusion on their faces. "Lupin sends me a portkey and swears secrecy, McGonagall is irritated, and the Ministry is considering overriding Draco's father disinheriting him," he summarized. At that, they looked even more confused.

"We read that letter --" George admitted baldly.

"-- and it didn't--"

Harry burst out laughing. "Oh, but you have to be me to read the real letter!" he crowed. "Was his substitute entertaining?"

They glanced at each other. George ducked his head.

"Oh, it was about us --"

"-- and how nosy and ill-mannered we are."

Harry laughed more. "And he so got you!"

They seemed okay with that, so he took a real bite of the chicken, his heart lifting. He could visit Remus -- and, he hoped, Sirius.