Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

Excitement greeted Harry at The Burrow. The Weasleys found him changed, which struck Harry as a real surprise. The first thing they noticed was his athletic figure, with more muscles than ever before.

Ginny had a look in her eyes - for a moment, Harry felt retransmitted in time, at least two years, only this time she didn't blush, and actually was deeply tanned, her freckles more prominent than ever, the hair bleached from the sun; altogether she looked terrific.

For someone with a taste for younger girls.

Ron had gained muscle too; his work in the twins' shop hadn't been restricted to paper pushing. He nudged Harry joyfully. "Say, have you been training with a sumo wrestler?"

"No, and it wasn't exactly wrestling." Well - not with Shigura.

Harry then had to describe his exercises. Feeling a censoring filter in his mind, he spoke about aikido, the art of weaponless combat, and about kenjutsu, swordfight training with a bokken.

Of course, Ron wanted to give it a try - a simple, straightforward test of strength between brothers. As foolish as it sounded, Harry welcomed this suggestion as a way of feeling western again. So all three of them went into the garden.

As a first exercise, they threw some gnomes. Harry was in the lead, though not much, more from technique than from sheer force - Ron's work on Swashbuckle Sweets had left its traces as much as Harry's work with a bokken.

Then Ron wanted to test Harry's skill in aikido.

"It's not a good idea, Ron. You don't know how to fall without hurting yourself, how - "

"Oh, don't I?" Ron suddenly lunged at Harry from the side. The next second, he was lying on the ground, Harry's flat hand a fraction of an inch above Ron's larynx.

"Sorry - it was a reflex." Harry straightened quickly, feeling slightly embarrassed.

Ron massaged his ankle. "My own mistake ... Harry - at Hogwarts, you'll show me, will you?"

"Sure - I'm looking for a training partner anyway. The first you have to learn is how to fall."

Ginny's eyes were shining. "Me too."

Ron glanced at his sister. "Karate kid, huh? How does this fit with your plans as a model?"

"That comes later, and besides, I don't see any conflict."

"Me neither," said Harry. "The trick is to use your opponent's force." He pointed at his biceps. "These muscles result from kenjutsu, not from aikido."

Then he had to explain again, and to demonstrate a simple throw in slow motion.

Both Ron and Ginny wanted to practice it right away. On the garden's soft ground, a wrong fall wouldn't hurt too much.

Ginny was delighted to see her brother sail through the air from her own defense. She asked Harry to attack her.

As it turned out, Harry was totally untrained as a sensei, unable to restrict his skill as required. The result was a short squeak, then he stood over a Ginny who was stroking her elbow.

"Sorry," he said. "I used more skill than what was allowed. I'm no trainer yet."

When they paused to catch their breath, standing around and inspecting Harry for other changes, the Weasleys noticed differences in his style of walking and standing. Harry explained the concept of balance, and the differences between east and west in the weight centre.

"I'll learn this more quickly," said Ginny. "Women have a lower centre of gravity anyway."

Ron grinned. "Really? ... I thought you were trying to develop a centre of gravity somewhere - um, closer to the shoulders."

"Don't you worry - I've got no complaints so far."

Ron gave no reply to that - maybe he couldn't think of one, or didn't want to cross the invisible borderline between teasing and insult.

Harry wondered if Ron had recognized the dual meaning which, for himself, seemed so obvious in Ginny's reply. A moment later, he wondered if Ron had indeed recognized, and had dropped a remark for his own reasons.

And of course - the story of Harry's lottery ticket was another topic to, and had actually been the first. Now, sitting in the garden, out of Ma Weasley's earshot, Harry took the opportunity to tell Ron and Ginny the true story.

Ginny looked startled. "Harry - if I'd known ... I should give you back at least - "

"Will you stop that nonsense! I wish I'd asked for a thousand - he'd have agreed to that, I'm sure."

For once, Ron was with Harry, about the money's destination as well as about his mistake. "You're still aiming too low, Harry. But maybe that has changed with your training, too."

Harry felt it wise not to answer and used his new skill to keep his expression balanced.

Coming back to the incident itself, Ron asked, "What are you going to do?"

"I'll see Sirius, and tell him - unofficially, of course. What about a city tour tomorrow?"

"Yes," said Ginny. "I owe you a Caribbean Crown."

Her biological brother pouted melodramatically. "And me?"

"Oh - you'll get one ice cone after the other, until your centre of gravity has come down sufficiently."

* * *

Other changes of less significant nature weren't noticed, except by someone with a sharper eye for them. Rummaging in his room, Harry heard the knock at the door.

"Come in."

It was Ginny. She sat down on the suitcase Harry just had emptied and watched him put away shirts and socks he hadn't used once in Japan.

Hands empty, Harry sat down and looked at her, feeling her scrutinizing stare. "What's up?"

"Do you remember our last conversation here?"

"Yes, almost every word."

"Yeah, me too. And I could repeat mine, because ... But you've made progress."

It was a statement, not a question; no sense in denying it, even if Harry had had the intention. So he simply asked, "How did you know?"

"Seeing you arrive, how you moved - I suspected it from the very first moment. And then" - Ginny's cheeks turned slightly pinkish - "how you touched me - when we said hello, and in the garden."

Wonderful. Cho would know instantly.

But then, had he really expected to hide it? Maybe until ... Not really, he just had put the thought aside.

Ginny's eyes were pleading. "How ..." ?

Well, maybe except for Fleur, Harry wouldn't know anyone with whom this topic could be talked about better. No, not even Fleur - at least theoretically, she belonged to another category than Ginny.

"Her name's Tamiko. She taught me - a lot. It started after a kind of trance - do you know about Japanese culture?"

"Not really."

Harry first described the recreation procedure and then told Ginny what had happened in the steam room. "Well, then she came to me and ... I said no, because of Cho. Then she said my - er, it would block my progress, and ... anyway, we agreed she would teach me - how to guide a woman ... and myself ..."

"And then you said yes?"

He nodded.

"And now you know."

"Yes."

Ginny was looking at him. After a moment, he recognized this look, this particular expression he'd learned to interpret in the past weeks. He shook his head. "No, Ginny - forget it. No."

The expression faded. "Yeah, you're right. It would solve a problem for me, only to create a bigger one for both of us."

"Exactly."

She sighed. "What a pity. The thought - "

"Ginny - I can talk with you so openly only because I'd never ... you're not my real sister, but - "

"That's just the point - it's not really forbidden, only ... Just from listening to you, I'm - "

"Will you stop! Now!"

"Are you scared to - okay, okay, I'll drop it." She giggled. "It's just because ... You know, it's not exactly you what's lingering in my mind, only ..."

"Yes, I know." He watched her, saw the feverish glance fade.

A moment later, Ginny grinned. "Although - Harry, you simply don't know what an effect you have. At Hogwarts, the girls will eat you alive."

Harry grinned back. "I don't think so - certainly not as far as I'm concerned. And a bloody nose is a very convincing argument - the Ravenclaw girls know from experience."

"And what about her?"

Yes, what about Cho? Short of a honest answer, Harry said, "That's really none of your business, is it?"

"Probably not." Ginny's expression made clear that for her, this had been a side remark, rather than an answer.

Harry laughed, although not too convincingly. "Who do you think I learned for? But it needs two who want the same."

Ginny nodded. "Which means, it's only a question of opportunity."

* * *

This time, they entered the Law Enforcement office as a threesome - Harry, Ron, and Ginny.

Belinda looked up and smiled. Watching her, Harry saw that Ginny had been right, Belinda was flirting with her eyes. Returning her look, he saw her expression change slightly, as if she'd noticed a change in him, and appreciated it, acknowledging him now as a peer in this game.

Because a game it was, nothing more - hopefully so; Belinda McGraw belonged to another category than Ginny, and played in a different league.

Belinda's head tilted down to the horn on her desk. "Chief?"

A grunt.

"The Potter-Weasley gang - three of them."

Another grunt.

The woman stood up and came to the counter that separated the public entrance from her desk. With amusement, Harry saw the heavy artillery change tack. "Hello, Ron - I'm Belinda."

"Erm - hello, Belinda, nice to meet you."

"Your father really did improve after Percy - and still before it was time four your sister."

Harry and Ginny tried to suppress a grin while Ron blushed up past his ears. Harry felt pity. "That's unfair, Belinda," he said.

"Really? ... But you know the old saying about fairness, don't you?"

Sirius saved them, taking them away from a battle they'd soon have lost. Inside, after offering some drinks out of his refrigerator, he examined Harry appreciatingly. "Harry - I wouldn't wonder if you'll need a bodyguard to keep the fans at bay - I mean the - "

"Yes, so I've been told, and I know who's suited well for that job. But talking about bodyguards, it's not just the fans."

Sirius' eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

"I was attacked - in London Linkport, four weeks ago."

"You were what??" It took Sirius a moment to notice the time that had passed since then. "Four weeks ago? Did it slip your mind all this time?"

"This is totally unofficial, Sirius - just between you and me."

"Why?"

"Because we had an agreement. But let me explain - "

His godfather's raised hand interrupted him. "Wait a second, Harry. Unofficial, okay, but otherwise ..." Sirius' head turned to the horn. "Bel?"

A squeak.

"Please come in."

He looked at Harry. "I stopped keeping information only in my head. If we can't record it officially, someone else knowing is my absolute minimum, someone you can trust."

"Okay."

Belinda came in and sat down, looking expectantly from one to the other.

Harry described the incident with the two wizards and his agreement with Bernie Bondelaw, managing director of London Linkport.

"Bernie, eh?" There was satisfaction in Sirius' voice. "For once, he had to bleed a bit" - Sirius smiled at Ginny - "and for a good purpose." Then Sirius turned to Belinda. "What do you think?"

The answer came immediately. "This is the first time it's been waterproof - official or not."

Sirius beamed at Harry. "Bel's my memory - she's been on the job long than I, and she's suspicious by nature."

Harry tried to think of another woman who might have looked as pleased as Belinda at such a compliment. Maybe Hermione.

Sirius said, "Okay, Harry - you did the right thing, except you should have told me four weeks ago ... Yes, I know, and of course I'd have interrupted your training. Anyway, it's a step forward."

Not feeling wiser than he had four weeks earlier, Harry asked, "What did they want?"

"It wasn't your luggage they were after, that's all we know for sure." Sirius shrugged. "Otherwise, your guess is as good as mine - maybe you, maybe your snake, maybe something we don't see."

Harry turned to Belinda. "Have there been other cases?"

Belinda looked at Sirius and, after receiving a nod, explained, "None as clear as yours. Some complaints, some disappearances, some cases where we suspect memory charms - only, how to prove anything if the victims refuse to cooperate?"

"Disappearances?"

It was Sirius who answered. "People disappear, Harry - an astonishing number, and for many reasons. And if they disappear by their own free will, it's only natural if their track ends in some travelling station. Only ..."

Belinda said, "We have a feeling, nothing else."

"Do these people have - " Harry stopped, realizing his question was, if not stupid, then insulting.

But Sirius, not being Japanese, was not offended by Harry asking the obvious. "... something in common? Too much, and not enough. But with your evidence, we can look again."

Belinda looked at Harry, a bright smile on her face. "And we two will look through our family album."

Harry decided to play along and smiled back. "A pleasure ... Here?"

Sirius laughed. "I'd like to hear more about your time in Japan, Harry - but another day." He turned to Ron and Ginny. "This will take some time, and contrary to how it sounds, it's pretty boring."

They agreed to wait for Harry outside, and that they'd be found where you could get a Caribbean Crown.

Harry followed Belinda into a room with desks. Looking at a large cabinet full of albums, he groaned.

Belinda smiled sweetly. "Do you mind sitting here with me, Harry?"

"Well ..."

She came over with the first album, sat down beside him, close enough so he could smell her perfume, and chirped, "I know what you mean, but today it's about pictures, and not even, er ..."

He laughed, although he felt his cheeks flush. "Please, Belinda, how can I concentrate if you don't stop playing with me?"

"Only joking - as you know perfectly well, don't you? I mean, about Sirius and me?"

He looked at her. "Sure - and that's super, honestly ..."

Now her smile was genuine.

"... but did it ever cross your mind that even your joking might be a little - er, heavy for me?"

"Sorry - I forgot. Somehow, you appear much older - but then, that's a very nice compliment." She moved a bit aside.

The people in the pictures looked sullen, or scared, or impudent. More than once, Harry had to wait a moment before they were ready to show their faces. In the fifth album, he stopped and pointed at a face. "Here - that's the one who fell down, the one that wasn't dangerous."

Belinda checked. "Uh-oh."

"What does that mean?"

There was concern in her expression. "It means bingo. This guy was reported missing about four weeks ago. He was found dead a week later." She looked at Harry with a fierce expression. "A hit ... may I kiss you for that?"

"Er - better not."

The other wizard - the jump artist - wasn't registered in any of the albums.

* * *

Harry stood in his room, dressing for the big event - the invitation from the Chang family. For this reason alone, more so because he remembered Cho's mysterious remark some months ago, he did it very carefully.

Using Japanese clothes.

He felt challenged by the invitation. As a natural consequence, after his training with the sensei, he reacted by presenting his own challenge - Japanese clothes in a Chinese household. Of course, he expected to find the Changs in traditional clothes and planned to adjust himself to that, so this would be his official explanation.

In addition, it would be a surprise for Cho. This thought bore a few resonances he instinctively avoided exploring deeper.

And quite frankly - they were just so comfortable.

The invitation had been sent with an owl. Well, Japanese wizards used Muggle technology without hesitation, and Chinese Muggles used wizard ornithology without objections.

And an English wizard would use a Chinese Muggle car with pleasure, because the invitation had informed Harry that a limousine would pick him up at The Burrow - and probably return him after the evening, which was very convenient because of the distance.

The car turned out to be of German manufacture, a very expensive one, and among the biggest Harry had ever seen.

The chauffeur, apparently Chinese, held the door open and bowed.

Harry bowed back, then climbed in.

Cho! In a witches' robe.

She beamed. "Without a few minutes for us alone, this evening would have been a torture ... Hello, Harry."

Alone?

Then he saw the dark glass separating the front compartment from the miniature luxury suite in which they were sitting. Rich parents ... So Fleur wasn't the only one with that problem.

The thought faded quickly as he hugged Cho and kissed her.

After a moment, Cho's head jerked back. She looked at him, something in her expression, a hunger in her eyes Harry had learned to interpret only recently. Her voice was a bit breathless, and husky.

"Harry ... what happened to you? You've changed ... you feel like - "

"You mean the clothes?"

"No, I don't mean the clothes, although they're part of it." She examined him closer, something like suspicion creeping into her eyes. "What happend there in Japan?"

"I ... learned."

"Oh yes, you did - no denying that. And what exactly was it you learned?"

"Er - balance, mainly."

"Balance, eh? Yeah, you look very balanced - only, a moment ago, I felt rather off balance, and it took me quite by surprise." Cho's eyes narrowed. "Who taught you balance, Harry?"

"My sensei ... Matsuo Shigura."

"And where did you learn to - hold me, and touch me, as you did right now?"

His silence was as bad as any explanation.

No - worse, as Cho's angry hiss told him. "I'm waiting for an answer, Harry!"

He inhaled deeply. "Her name is Tamiko."

"So you had more than one teacher, eh? For the different disciplines, one for balance and one for - "

"Yes." Although it might have been informative to hear how Cho had planned to finish that particular sentence.

"More than two?"

"No."

"How consoling." Cho's eyes were a flaring green. "You slept with her!"

"Er - no ... She didn't stay ..."

"Spare me the details! You know exactly what I mean!"

He nodded.

Next moment, Cho herself wanted to hear more details. "How did it happen?"

"It was ... it started with a - kind of trance ... in the steam room - the Japanese have these recreation rooms ..."

The term made Cho look still more furious, if this was ever possible. However, she knew about Japanese bathing procedures.

"... came to me, and asked. I said no, because I love you - "

"Only this wasn't your last answer, was it?"

"No ... She said it would block my progress ..."

For an instant, Harry thought he'd need to use aikido to prevent injuries.

"... and she said she would teach me how - how to guide a woman to the clouds and the rain."

"Just for the sake of balance, and to round up the training program, eh? And pleasure took no part in it - how could it, such stressful lessons - "

"Cho ..."

She burst into tears. "Damn you, Harry, damn you ... and your bloody progress. And stupid me, why didn't I grab you in that barn, and ... young Potter, hah! So determined to achieve his goal, travels to Japan to get his wand under control ... Some control! ... Oh, nooo ..."

Carefully, he inched closer. This limousine was awfully spacious. "Cho ... I love you, I didn't stop loving you. I did it because I wanted to learn how ... not to be clumsy when ..."

His words weren't unheard. "You managed, Harry - quite well, I've to admit. A true expert, at this young age."

"Tamiko knew about you - about our love. She said this conflict is only in the western culture - "

"Then I'm too western-minded, eh? ... Should think more Chinese, or what?"

"I don't know ... All I know is that I love you ... I went to Japan to learn how to fulfill my destiny and come back to you."

A tear-stained face looked at him. "How did you solve this western conflict, Harry?"

"I ... Somehow, I was out of time there, and the way ... it was more learning than - it wasn't simply - "

"Oh yes, I bet."

"I never kissed her."

Some hope in Cho's face. "Really?"

"Not on the mouth, I mean."

He ducked her blow toward his nose, then kept still, only tensing his muscles while Cho's fists struck him hard - on the chest, in the ribs, in the stomach.

---

Eventually, she stopped. "Damn - you're a bloody rock, Harry, I'm hurting myself more than you."

After a moment of silence, Cho said, "Some people might think this would be a good time for an apology - what do you think, Harry?"

He bowed as best as he could while sitting. "For all that's hurting you from what I did, I'm deeply sorry."

"That's all?"

"I've learned - it's the intention that counts, and it's love that matters. There's no conflict between my intentions and my love for you, Cho."

She studied his face. "You've really learned. That sounded very much like it came from your other teacher."

"From both ... In a way, they weren't that much different."

"Oh, no? Don't tell me you're - " Cho stopped herself, extracted a tissue, and started to wipe her face.

Harry's hand stopped hers. "May I?"

"What?"

He extracted his wand. "Repair the damage in your face."

Cho looked horrified at the black top. "With this wand?"

"If you think it's too ..." He dropped his wand. His fingertips held her temples, his thumbs at her cheeks.

She didn't push him away.

"Detumesco."

Cho examined her face in a mirror, then turned to him, a grudging admiration in her voice. "Well, well - not bad ... You're just too good to be sent to hell, Harry."

He bowed again. "Thank you, Cho."

"What for?"

"Shigura said - even the best intentions are insufficient to reach acceptance, because - well, it's obvious, isn't it?"

"So, said he? And what did she say?"

The question was probably more rhetorical than serious; still, Harry had learned that no parry was good unless combined with a counter-attack.

"She said, 'I do not challenge your love, quite the opposite'."

A moment of silence. "I want to know everything, Harry."

"I'll answer all your questions."

"Is she beautiful?"

"Yes."

"How much?"

"How to answer that? So far, she's the only woman I've seen - "

He was quickly interrupted. "Her face."

Harry felt the time ready for another counter-attack, in particular since he saw an opportunity to use the truth very effectively. "You want my objective opinion, putting aside - er, prejudices?"

Clenched teeth. "Yes."

"Okay ... For obvious reasons, I'm extremely prejudiced about two faces - yours and that of my mother. Aside from that - I'd rank her as number three or four, I'm not quite sure because here again my prejudice might - "

"And who are the other two - or three?"

"The most beautiful face I've seen is that of your mother - immediately followed by Fleur's mother. Then come Shihiko and Tamiko - or the other way around."

His strike broke the barrier, as expected. Cho inched closer, a plea in her face. "You're serious, aren't you?"

"I never lied to you, and I never will."

"And who's Shihiko?"

"The first lady in Shigura's house ... I always thought she could read minds."

Cho looked curious. "And still ..."

"Oh - she had a way with her remarks, but aside from that - er, without rubbing a touchy spot more than necessary, they really look at those things differently - and it was clear that she and Shigura were ... Anyway, she was the one who helped me to find my presents for you."

This topic was good enough to cut a break in his interrogation. He presented the boxwood comb. "This is one of the presents; its not as exclusive as the other."

"Oh - wonderful! I've heard about them, but ..." Cho tested the comb immediately, then asked, "And why isn't it exclusive?"

"Because I simply didn't know what else to find for Ginny, and Al, and Hermione, and Fleur ..."

The list produced a brief and somewhat angry grin. "Then show me the other - and woe betide you if ..."

He presented his first haiku. "Here."

Cho took the rice paper, read, read again, had no question, had only to extract a softer piece of paper, had to look at him, this particular expression back in her eyes ... And then it disappeared, giving room to a grimace of distaste.

Feeling startled, Harry asked, "What's wrong?"

Cho looked almost hateful. "I was just trying to imagine us together - doing it ... And you won't believe, Harry, but - in my little dream, there was also a figure appearing, and guess who it was?"

"Oh."

"Yes, oh ... Isn't that a pity - all those lessons for nothing?"

---

The limousine slowed down, coming to a halt in front of an impressive building.

Harry stepped out on his side of the car, not waiting for the chauffeur, who was busy opening Cho's door. Looking around, he recognized style elements that seemed familiar, more in the garden than in the building itself.

The door opened. Mr Chang, wearing a cheongsam, stood in the entrance.

Another déjà vu - an opening door, a figure in a kimono, not blocking the path.

Mr Chang's eyes had widened for a very short moment. His bow was measured. "Welcome, Harry, to our house."

Harry bowed back, deeper. "I feel privileged, Mr Chang."

Mrs Chang was as beautiful as he remembered her, maybe even more, or maybe his eye was a better judge than some months ago - and her warm smile was a relief after the recent moments. He offered the single orchid - selected as carefully as his dress, strongly influenced by a memory of Shihiko and a vase.

"Harry - it's so kind of you, you'll blend in perfectly ... and this flower - did you learn ikebana?"

"Not really, Mrs Chang - but I watched it."

"Then you must have been very attentive."

Oh yes - very.

Mr Chang's smile was faint, and slightly teasing. "Can I offer you some sake, Harry?"

"No thanks - I'm not used to drinks, as I found out. Tea would be fine, sir."

"Is alcohol a contradiction to Zen?"

Time to parry, and look for a counter-strike.

"I don't know, sir - for me, Zen is still a contradiction in itself. But of course I've heard only the Japanese side of it."

"And now you come to the lion's den to show your flag?" His host was looking at Harry's kimono.

"To be honest, sir - I wouldn't know how to distinguish a Chinese from a Japanese kimono. Although I'd like to hear more about the - differences between the two cultures."

"What did your Zen master say about this topic?"

"When the sensei spoke about China, it was always in the context of historical origins. What I understood is, almost all Japanese arts originate in China."

Mr Chang seemed ready to drop the challenging tone - at least for a while. "More or less it's true, Harry. China was a centre of culture when the Japanese islands were populated by primitive barbarians. This is the reason why the Chinese detest the Japanese. But now they're no longer barbarians, and for the last six hundred years, it's been just a prejudice. But as you know, prejudices last long, and for China, which counts its history in millenia, six hundred years is nothing."

Cho had changed into a cheongsam, then had joined them. When Mr Chang spoke about prejudices, Harry felt her stare.

The food was excellent, and Harry felt delighted to eat something other than fish - quite a lot of other meat, actually.

Mrs Chang watched him using the chopsticks and smiled. "For the short time of four weeks, you've adapted admirably, Harry."

"With chopsticks, I had more practice - since Christmas, actually."

The topic of chopsticks made Cho smile, the topic of practice ended the smile abruptly.

Mrs Chang asked, "How is Chinese food for you - compared to Japanese?"

"It's more to my taste - with chicken, and pork. Fish is nice, but fish day in, day out ..."

Mr Chang laughed. "Especially the preparation, isn't it?"

"Oh yes - although, Nagini's got a taste for raw fish. The other day, she hinted quite discreetly it might be found here, too."

Mrs Chang said, "I was wondering whether you would come with her, Harry."

He looked startled. "No - certainly not."

"Why not?" It was Mr Chang who asked.

"It ... do you know about her special abilities?"

"We've heard - stories."

"She's empathic - to say the least. She can tell me if someone's telling the truth - but she can't distinguish between politeness and purposeful lies. The thought of having her here and commenting ... while you're unprepared and can't even understand - no, that's impossible."

Cho was grinning.

Mr Chang said. "It wouldn't be bushido - but a perfect technique of ninjutsu." The remark reminded Harry of Mr Chang's extensive knowledge of Japanese culture as well as his technique of conversation.

He replied, "Yes, sir - although the sensei didn't go into much detail on the ethics of the various disciplines." He avoided to look into Cho's direction at these words - unbearable how every remark suddenly could present a second meaning.

"Then he's an exception," said Cho's father, "which is no surprise, considering it was Mr Lupin who selected him."

Had Harry been Japanese, Mr Chang would have won great face with this remark. Instead, he simply beamed.

Dropping the slight challenge in his voice, Mr Chang said, "You asked about the differences between the two cultures, Harry. The term alone is a keyword in that matter - but before explaining what I mean, let me ask you a question. What impressed you most during your visit to Japan?

More than before, Harry took pains to avoid glancing in Cho's direction. After a moment's thought, he said, "I didn't see much outside the sensei's house, except for the ferry tours. But even so, I'd say - the way these people treat each other, their tactfulness ... and then, of course, shibumi."

"Of course." Mr Chang smiled. "All very cultivated. You see, the Chinese think the Japanese are uncivilized, and the Japanese think the Chinese are uncultivated. In my own opinion, they're both right."

What was the difference between civilized and cultivated? It sounded like the Zen question for the difference between true and right.

"Sir - could you explain a little more?"

Mr Chang's answer came with some emphasis. "It doesn't fit with a truly civilized society if the caste of the warrior is ranked on top while farmers, fishermen, or merchants are found much lower in the social hierarchy. On the other hand, whenever the Japanese took over an art from China, they immediately started to cultivate it, to refine it - with the result that they left their former masters behind centuries ago. To understand this, and why shibumi is truly the Japanese ideal, you have to look at a map: compared to its population, particularly compared to China, Japan is desperately poor and dangerously small. Refinement and simplification is the only escape from that dilemma."

Harry pondered this thought and tried to remember the maps in the Magical Tours office.

"Another aspect," continued Mr Chang, "in which both societies don't look good, certainly not from a western perspective, is the role of women."

Harry felt someone staring at him, but knew it wasn't his host.

"China is a step farther - there has been an empress, for example. But it's anybody's guess how big the differences really are."

Harry had no intention of expressing his own opinion, or his feeling that, in the sensei's house, the women seemed equally privileged.

Mrs Chang asked, "Is shibumi an attractive concept for you, Harry?"

Gratefully, Harry followed the change of course in the conversation. "It's fascinating, because it bears a resemblance to Zen. But I don't think it could be my personal way of life."

"Why's that so?"

"Well ... According to what I understood, shibumi is the ultimate refinement in the seemingly mundane. As desirable as it seems - thinking the concept out to the end, the only possible solution would be suicide - otherwise, for me the idea would play around itself ... But maybe I haven't figured it out yet; I'm no philosopher."

Mr Chang asked, "Are you more the action type, Harry? Or the newest invention of our society, the fun-lover?"

Time for another parry. "I'm not familiar with this term, sir. My own understanding is - I accept the concept of giri in the sense of a goal, an obligation ... not as a self-repeating force, since I don't feel like a samurai. Then, and until then, if there's room left for some fun, it doesn't feel wrong."

Was that a nod, the tiniest of bows?

---

They had finished eating. Mr Chang guided Harry into another room, giving him the opportunity to examine the decor and the furnishings. They were very tasteful, although not quite as classé as the Delacour house. But maybe this was just an effect from first-generation richness, and all that was missing were another hundred years to let the polish fade a bit.

Mrs Chang and her daughter hadn't followed. A moment later, Harry knew why - Mr Chang started a conversation from man to man, more specifically, from possible future father-in-law to possible future son-in-law.

And his opening was first rate - he came as close to an apology as could be expected. "How's life with your new family, Harry?"

"Wonderful, sir. It's been only a few days, but even so - this feeling ..."

"Since our last meeting, I have had the opportunity to learn more about your ... relatives. Considering what I've heard, this is indeed the first time you've had the chance to see the true value of family."

Harry's eyes met those of Mr Chang. "I think I could see it there - within their own limited scope, they're doing okay. It was just that any sign of magic made them panic."

Tiny movements of the head were an expressive way of communication. Next moment, Mr Chang asked, "How are your own family plans, Harry?"

This short cut from one topic to the other was somewhat breathtaking. Harry felt stunned.

"You love my daughter, isn't that so?"

"Yes, sir, I do."

"And fate has already given proof of that ... Will you ask for her hand?"

Harry weighed every word twice. "I will propose to her, in due time, yes."

"What time will that be?"

"After I have destroyed Voldemort, sir."

"Which means maybe never."

Harry stared in the man's eyes. "No, sir. I'll come back, and then I'll ask Cho."

"Only her?" Quite obviously, Mr Chang wasn't referring to alternative daughters.

"Sir ... so far, I haven't planned any further. If her answer is yes, and with respect to her own demands and beliefs, I'll certainly respect traditions, or conventions ... In that order."

Mr Chang's voice didn't change a bit. "So anything else is just tradition?"

"No, sir. When that day has come, and if Cho agrees, I'll ask for your blessing - as well as that of your wife. This acceptance has value and weight - it would complete my intentions, though it won't change it."

"This opinion may not find - agreement."

Harry remembered the picture of strategies and their shadows, and his Zen meditations. "Sir, in the recent weeks, I have had time to think about the difference between true and right, and to recognize them. If there are differences I can't avoid, I know what will always be my choice - regarding Cho, regarding you, sir, or your wife: it will be the truth."

Mr Chang's head made another tiny movement. Then he said, "I wonder how this understanding of honour will fit to your future profession, Harry. Do you think you'll make it fit?"

Was this a new topic, or a change of tack?

"I don't know, sir. A few weeks ago, I wouldn't have been able to express my belief. I don't see myself as a warrior - at the most, I feel it as a temporary state. I don't know how I'd qualify as a farmer, or merchant, or businessman in general. I feel like a crusader who doesn't know what lies ahead, once the journey's over."

"Zen says, the way is the goal."

"Yes sir, although Zen seems quite tricky in giving answers. Anyway, for me, the way is just a path, and of course a direction."

"Other people think in simpler terms - for example, money. I am a merchant, and the topic of inheritance is something I have to think about. Cho is our only heir - a fact from which I feel entitled to ask you, Harry, for your own situation."

"Of course, sir, although I'd answer the question anyway. I have some money from my parents, enough to come through Hogwarts - that's all."

"Then you may understand my concern - and may reconsider your opinion about intentions and approvals."

The Chang house was built of solid stone, in contrast to a Japanese house, which was made of wood and paper doors. Otherwise, however, the habit of listening outside seemed to be common, as Harry realized a second later, when Cho stepped into the room.

She said, "He won't. Money doesn't impress him at all."

Mr Chang looked at his daughter. If he disagreed with her appearance, disagreed ferociously, his expression didn't show it. He turned back to Harry. "That's hard to believe."

Cho said, "He can prove it. Harry, tell my father the story."

Harry kept silent for a moment, deciding whether this would violate promises he'd made, or boundaries he had to respect. Then he said, "Sir, what Cho means is, for some reason, last year I was awarded a Goblin Request."

"Indeed. And - "

"Privileged, sir."

"Ahh ... Well, that's certainly information which puts things into a different light."

"Not at all," said Cho. "He spent it for a few broomsticks. That's where the Steel Wings came from."

Mr Chang stared at Harry.

"Yes, sir. And I'd do it again - with due respect to all people involved, it was the Steel Wings that won the Battle of Hogwarts."

Mrs Chang entered the room. She smiled at Harry, if not to say, she beamed at him.

Harry, still in full guard from this conversation, smiled back, unsure why Cho's mother was looking at him this way.

Mr Chang turned to his wife. "My dear, Harry just told us that he had been awarded a Privileged request ... and that he claimed it for the broomsticks of the Hogwarts Flying Squad."

Mrs Chang said, "A natural decision in your situation, Harry."

"Our daughter lists this as proof that Harry isn't impressed by money."

"Which doesn't mean he isn't impressed by other things." Mrs Chang was beaming even more, looking very remarkable.

Suddenly, Harry had an idea what the reason might be. He blushed.

Mrs Chang saw it and reduced her expression to a warm smile. "I have no reason to complain about Harry's taste - or his choices."

Blushing deeper, he saw Cho grinning maliciously.

Mr Chang apparently had a fine sense for encrypted messages, even when he couldn't decipher them. He looked at his wife, then at Harry, finally at his wife again. "No - there's little doubt, it's our daughter he loves, not our money."

Still pinkish, Harry said, "I didn't know, sir - I mean, Cho was never specific ..." He looked around. "All I knew was, you're doing business with - er, different cultures."

"But you wouldn't object to a comfortable environment, would you?"

Harry shrugged. "So far, my experience with - er, houses like this one is very limited - the Delacour castle is the only other one I saw. Anyway, that's Cho's business, not mine - and aside from that this is all still far away."

"Your understanding of roles doesn't conflict with a present from a woman?"

"No, sir - I don't think so."

Only Harry knew what the sounds coming from Cho meant.

* * *

The last days of summer vacation flew before Harry's eyes, eyes which rested on walls and floors in The Burrow without ever losing a picture that burned and hurt.

Cho.

She had escorted him to the limousine that evening. Looking at her, he had asked, "Will you say goodbye to me?"

Not caring of the chauffeur, she had really kissed him. "See you, Harry."

He had looked surprised.

"I believe you," she had said. "A kiss on the mouth - that's my realm. Otherwise - well, maybe I feel a bit inferior, maybe I have to look for a teacher of my own, Harry, to cope with you."

Fleur had sent mail - invitations, of course. Harry had answered that, once at Hogwarts, travelling would be simpler, and he needed a few days just to recover. It wasn't a lie, after all.

Marie-Christine had sent mail - an invitation, a meeting, whatever would be suitable to talk with him, to interview him. He had answered the same.

Hermione had sent a postcard, from Bulgaria. She would meet them for the first time on the Hogwarts Express.

Ron was still busy, mainly with the twins, or so he said, maybe also with travels to France - if so, it had to be linkports, because he came back in the evening to play Go with Harry.

Ginny took Harry swimming, to the place where she had developed her tan. He had an opportunity to study her body in her thin swimsuit, feeling pride at such an attractive ... sister.

She felt his glance and blushed. "Stop looking at me that way."

"What way? I'm just admiring your body."

"That's exactly what I mean. It feels - "

"C'mon - you know exactly why I can look at you that way. You look - "

"Yeah - but it's not quite the same the other way around."

Looking closer, he saw what she meant. Under the thin fabric, the signs were unmistakable. He grinned.

Ginny turned dark red. "It's not funny."

He sobered up. "No - not at all."

Seeing his expression, Ginny asked, "She didn't take it well, did she?"

His head was shaking slowly. "No - not the least bit."

"Well, what did you expect? Imagine - you come back from vacation, and meet her, and she tells you, I found a teacher for making love, he's quite good-looking actually, and we - um, but don't you worry, my feelings for you are unchanged. How would you feel?"

"I don't know ... but I might find out." He told her about the scene at the limousine.

Ginny looked sympathetic. "That's hard ... but she won't do it."

He glanced at her. "You think so?"

"I'm pretty sure ... I mean, if it's just about - you know, I could solve my problem with Grigorij any day, except he's not the one I'm looking for."

Ginny wasn't Cho, and more precisely, Cho wasn't Ginny; still, Harry found the remark comforting. Then he felt the need to improve the fluency of such conversations. "By the way, the Japanese have a very nice term. They call it the journey toward the clouds and the rain."

"And the clouds and the rain ..."

"... are where the journey ends, yes."

Ginny blushed again, less from the topic than from her obvious state, visible again under the swimsuit.

Not totally untouched by himself, Harry found another topic. "Say - I wonder how a freckled redhead like you manages such a deep tan?"

"Oh - that's simple," was the grateful reply, "a little spell does wonders."

* * *

The last day, Harry didn't go to the swimming-pool. Mrs Weasley found him in the garden, sitting in the lotus position, idly watching Nagini while she guarded a gnome hole.

"Harry," said Mrs Weasley, "vacation's over tomorrow, and neither Cho nor Grigorij have found their way over here."

"No, Ma Weasley."

"What a pity - I'd have liked to see them."

Harry kept silent.

"You and Ginny - you can talk to each other quite well, Harry. I'm glad about that, for a girl her age ..."

Feeling surprise, Harry glanced at Ma Weasley. He wouldn't have expected a message as decent, still as clear as this one - not from her. After a moment, the unspoken appeal had its effect.

He said, "Grigorij - he didn't come because Ginny didn't invite him. Let's just say - er, it's not the big one."

"I had a feeling. In contrast to ..."

This second appeal bore no immediate effect.

"Trouble in the air, Harry?"

"Erm, a bit, yes ... Nothing serious."

"By the way - it was very kind of you, to nominate Ginny as the beneficiary of this lottery, Harry."

He looked up in astonishment - startled by this seeming change of subject as much as by Nagini's hiss.

Ma Weasley looked him in the eyes. "Harry - I've lost a son, but I've won a son, if you allow me to say so ..."

"Of course, Ma."

She smiled. "... but we hadn't too much time together so far. That's why I want to ask you a favour."

"Yes, sure."

"Harry - please don't treat me as if I'm blind, naive, or stupid."

He stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"I went to the Magical Tours office the other day. There is no such lottery."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh. Was it your own money?"

"No, Ma. There was an - er, incident. It was money to keep my mouth shut."

Mrs Weasley sat there, looking at him.

"Please, Ma - I'm in touch with Sirius about that. It's unclear what it was, but at least nobody thinks there's an actual threat against me."

"Good, Harry - I can live without the details."

He grinned.

"Speaking of money - about the insurance from Hogwarts. My own children are too scared to tell their delicate mother about the details, but you, Harry, you've dealt with death more, and you're not frightened of the truth."

He stared again, now truly speechless.

"It comes from the dark wizards, am I right?"

"Yes, Ma ... We charged all of them, according to the severity of their crimes and to their wealth."

Mrs Weasley nodded. "I don't have a problem with that - it's not justice, it's only money ... Arthur doesn't know, Harry, and never will, okay?"

"No, Ma Weasley. We agreed - I mean, Ron and I, and ..."

She smiled. "Yes, of course - and this conversation here is just between the two of us, right? I don't mind if my children think they can drag the feet of their old mother."

Harry grinned. "Yes, okay."

"That was about naive and stupid, Harry. Now about blind."

He stared again, reddening.

Ma Weasley kept looking along the garden. "I was wondering if Cho would come to visit, and whether maybe an overnight visit would be an issue. I think I have a clear impression why, or why not. You know, Harry, seven children are not the result of a wish list ..."

He giggled.

"So you've gained some ... experience, although not with her, but with someone else, older than Cho. Harry, she will settle, after she's made you pay for it - but still, I think you were quite lucky, and will be more so with her."

He cleared his throat. "How do you know ..."

Now she looked at him. "I couldn't talk that way with my own sons, Harry. But don't you think I see the glances between you and Ginny, and the differences, and know there's no need to worry? And then ..."

Mrs Weasley was blushing!

"... the way you looked at me, after you returned, making me think it's high time I lost a few pounds ... She wasn't an inexperienced girl, Harry, that's for sure."

"Erm - no, Ma."

Mrs Weasley smiled. "All right, Harry - after this shocking news, something more mundane. What do you need still for Hogwarts?"

* * *

The Hogwarts Express felt empty.

This was of course nonsense, although Harry, who had arrived with Ron and Ginny just in time, and was wandering through the train right now, couldn't help thinking so.

One reason was the absence of people he hadn't expected, and he would have been more than surprised to see them here, but knowing and seeing were two different things: Fred and George, Lee Jordan, Angelina, Bob, and a few others. Without them, Hogwarts would feel different.

A more objective reason was that the train seemed less crowded than in previous years. Harry didn't know why; the only logical explanation - fewer first-years than students who'd finished - seemed unrealistic.

And then his own, private, subjective perspective, the reason why he was walking through the train: Cho. And Almyra.

They weren't in the train.

He couldn't believe it. Wandering back, he scanned each compartmant again, unable to admit he might have overlooked them, still less able to accept their absence.

Reaching again his own compartment, he hesitated, halfway determined to search a third time.

Hermione asked, "Didn't you find them?"

"No - but it can't be."

"Of course it can." Hermione showed the know-it-all look Harry hadn't seen for weeks, hadn't missed either. "They'll use the Hogsmeade link."

"The what?"

"My God, is The Burrow behind the moon? There's a new linkport connection from London to Hogsmeade, for quick travelling. Of course it's for Hogwarts, not for that sleepy town, but Dumbledore didn't give permission for a more direct link. He's a bit old-fashioned, but - "

"Who's running the link?"

"That new company, who else? Magical Tours."

Harry and Ron looked at each other. "Oh shit." It was Harry's comment.

Somewhat shocked, Hermione looked at Harry, then at Ginny. "That sort of language isn't allowed for ears below sixth year. I know it's hard, but you'll see her at Hogwarts."

Ron wasn't ready to stay behind with bad language. "You don't know a wet fart, Hermione."

It earned him an approving glance from Ginny, and a very indignant stare from Hermione. Ron just said, "Harry, tell her."

Harry informed Hermione about his acquaintance with Magical Tours, the incident in the London Linkport, and their meeting with Sirius.

Hermione had dropped any concern about bad language. "They'll be there, Harry. People don't disappear in links."

"No, not from malfunctions."

"Did the police find out anything about the two men?"

"I went through the register, and found one of them."

"And?"

"He disappeared a day or so after the incident - and was found dead a week later."

Which gave Hermione another concern to worry about. But it was Harry himself who answered.

"No - of course they'll arrive. Even if there's anything fishy with the links themselves, they wouldn't make two girls disappear who'd be missed minutes afterwards, with clear times of departure and planned arrival."

Hermione seemed relieved, though still sceptical. "How do you know?"

"We discussed it. My case is the first hard evidence, that's what Bel said."

"Bel?"

"Bel - Belinda McGraw. She's Sirius' - secretary. And a police officer."

Hermione had registered the pause, and the grinning in Ginny's face, which was considerably broader than Ron's.

"Bel, huh? And - is she something else?"

Harry had learned to keep emotions out of expressions. "What might that be?"

Hermione looked at Harry, as though examining him more closely for the first time since they'd met in the train. Then she looked at Ginny, making a face as if she would say more without the younger girl around. "Hmm ..."

"By the way," said Harry, "thanks for the postcard. Bulgaria, huh?"

Hermione got the message, grinned, then blushed a bit. "Yes - two weeks ... Swimming and so."

"Swimming, of course. How was the weather?"

"Cloudy, and rainy."

An instant later, Harry and Ginny were rolling with howling laughter. Ron looked downright blank, while Hermione went very dark.

A moment later, Ron was blushing.

The inevitable effect was that Hermione had a challenge to return. She studied Harry again, and asked, "How was your trip to Japan, Harry?"

He spoke about Zen, and aikido, and kenjutsu, also about balance.

Hermione listened attentively. "Who else was in that house, Harry, besides Shigura and yourself?"

"Two women, Shihiko and Tamiko."

Hermione looked again at Ginny, who was slumped on her seat like someone who'd heard it all before, but still interested in seeing the reactions of other people.

"And how old were they?"

Harry shrugged. "Dunno ... Shihiko's the older one - she's the boss of the house."

"And the other - Tamiko?"

"She's the younger one. Maybe twenty-five, maybe thirty - I'm not good at guessing ages, and that's something you just don't ask."

"Did they speak English?"

"Yes, all of them. In the beginning, Tamiko was a bit unsure, speaking slowly and carefully - but then she got more fluent."

Hermione started to grin, then tried to suppress it. She glanced at Ginny, her eyes widening at what she saw there.

Ron had been watching the exchange of glances. After a moment, he stared at Harry, and it was his turn to look very astonished, blushing once more. Then he murmured something like "... trolley" and left the compartment.

Hermione looked at Harry and at Ginny. "You two get along well, huh?"

Feeling less restrained than a moment before, Harry answered, "You can say that. We talk a lot."

Ginny looked pleased, and a bit pinkish.

Hermione remembered something. "Before I forget - what was so funny about my remark with - er, Bulgaria?"

Ginny suppressed another fit of laughter with difficulty.

Harry said, "The Japanese have a very nice term ... The journey toward the clouds and the rain."

Quick as ever, it took Hermione just a second to understand. "Yes, that's very nice indeed." Then she grinned, giggled, started to laugh.

Harry asked, "There wasn't much with swimming, was there? I mean, with such a bad weather, I guess you were mostly inside."

Before Hermione had time to answer, Ginny said, "No, but I think Viktor was."

Ron found them still laughing. Their fun did nothing to improve his mood.

* * *

It gave Harry a sharp twist in the stomach when he heard the words, the unexpected voice, the reminder that Hagrid was dead. "First-years, over here!" Damian Loew's voice.

The three friends looked at each other, the same expression on each face. Ron's grumpiness was gone in an instant, replaced by sadness. "C'mon," he said. "Life goes on."

They passed the gathering group, greeting the new Keeper of Keys and Grounds with a warmth that made him look surprised, and pleased, in particular upon seeing Hermione.

The new students watched them with wide eyes, widening more at the sight of Nagini around Harry's neck and body. Excited whispers started a second after they'd passed.

Harry deposited his luggage and returned to the Great Hall together with Nagini. In his opinion, the Sorting Ceremony required the presence of all thinking creatures.

Passing the Slytherin table, he was stopped by Timothy Brenton, the sixth-year who had once broken the ice between Slytherins and Gryffindors in Potions. Timothy called, "Hey, Harry - you know, there's always a place for you and Nagini at this table - you've won more points for Slytherin than some students here."

Harry grinned. "Thanks - good to know, if Gryffindor ever decides to banish me for just that reason."

"Yeah - when hell freezes over."

He already sat on his place when he saw Cho and Almyra arrive. He felt better than he had a second before, and more startled too. How much had Cho shared with Almyra?

He had no opportunity to walk over; the Sorting Ceremony started immediately. Then Dumbledore stood up and started to speak.

Harry's concentration was only halfway with the Headmaster; the rest lingered at the Ravenclaw table. How was Cho going to act? With growing uneasiness, Harry became aware that he and Cho were something like the official lovers at Hogwarts, only that the term wasn't quite accurate, and might be still for some time.

"... new times, we have enhanced the education program of Hogwarts with two new faculties. Both take into account the old saying that a healthy mind can reside only in a healthy body - and both of them will be optional."

What was Dumbledore talking about?

"The first course deals with something I felt missing from our syllabus for quite some time. But it was only recently that I gathered a majority of votes in the respective circles." Dumbledore grinned. "Don't be surprised if you'll find students as well as teachers among the participants. This new course is dancing lessons ..."

Tumultuous applause, especially from the female students.

"... and the teacher will add this new responsibility to her old role - Miss Fleur Delacour!"

"Hiss, Nagini - as much as you can." Harry was doing his best to increase the noise level, watching an excited-looking Fleur.

"Miss Delacour," continued the Headmaster, "will need an assistant, as dancing requires two people, so I've been told." Dumbledore paused for the reaction to his joke. "She asked me to announce that this job is neither permanent nor exclusive, and volunteers may contact her in her office."

Harry felt glances in his direction. Two of them seemed to originate from the Ravenclaw table.

"The second course also has to do with sports, training, and exercises. At least one of the included disciplines is a dance of its own kind - but I'll leave the details to a more experienced person, since here I'm really a complete amateur."

Harry's eyes were scanning the teachers' table in anticipation.

"The teacher for this course is a new colleague in the Hogwarts community - a last-minute agreement for which I'm more than glad. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome ..."

A figure entered the room, approached Dumbledore.

"... Mr Ichiro Kenzo!"

The new teacher bowed toward Dumbledore, turned, bowed toward his new colleagues, then turned again and bowed toward the students.

By then, Harry had stood up and bowed back. For an instant, his eyes met those of the Japanese.

Medium-sized, not as broad as Shigura, considerably younger too - around thirty, maybe a bit more, Harry guessed. And he had recognized it from the first step: the graceful, perfectly balanced gait of the aikido expert.

"Hey, Harry." It was Ron. "Do you know anything about that guy?"

Only now Harry noticed that more than a few students had watched his bowing, and he quickly sat down before answering, "Nope. But it doesn't mean anything, Shigura wasn't the talkative type."

Hermione grinned. "No, not him, huh? He could speak English from the beginning."

Ron immediately steered the conversation back. "What do you think? Shall we join?"

"No question about that - both courses, for sure."

Hermione knew it all. "Drop Divination, to balance out."

A wonderful idea. Harry looked at Hermione. "Can I drop Astronomy too?"

"Sure - optional subject versus optional subject."

"Can I drop more?"

"What's on your mind?"

"Speaking in Hogwarts terms - I'll try to do a graduate study with this sensei. In practical terms, I want to reserve as much time as possible for those exercises."

"Hmm ... Maybe History - I'm not sure. Ask McGonagall."

---

After the meal, leaving Nagini on his seat, Harry went over to the Ravenclaw table, suddenly feeling as if he'd been put back in time by one year. He had no trouble with the glances of the other students, would kiss Cho - hopefully, that was ... No, he wasn't put back in time; instead, hopes and fears had switched roles.

He reached Cho, bent to kiss her, was allowed to do so, felt her kiss. Thank God for this realm ...

Almyra hugged him, looking pleased after the questioning glance she had sent first to Cho, then to him.

Harry sat down. "I'm awfully glad to find you here."

Cho smiled drily. "That was a surprise, wasn't it?"

"Not finding you in the train, yes. But it wasn't the worst."

"I feel flattered, really." Cho's voice raised another look from Almyra.

"This portkey link - this company, Magical Tours - when I heard from Hermione - "

"Why? Didn't you travel with them by yourself?"

"Yes - and that's why I've been worried like hell."

Cho's flippancy was wiped away at once. She looked at Harry. "What happened on your journey?"

"Let's go outside ... It's a wonderful evening."

They walked to the lakeside, then had to walk a bit farther, as they weren't the only group, although most of the others consisted of two students rather than three.

They sat down, with Almyra looking admiringly when Harry, quite reflexively, stripped barefoot and took the lotus position. To be honest, Cho would have looked appreciative too, had her expression not been overshadowed by some worry.

Harry told them the story of his incident, his agreement, and his meeting with Sirius, finding the presence of mind to use the full first name of Belinda McGraw.

Cho sounded a bit angry. "You didn't bother to tell me when ... well, we had other things to discuss."

A grin had started on Almyra's face, but faded an instant later.

Harry said, "Now you know, and why the train journey was so ..."

Cho looked at him. "We didn't see anything unusual. It's not us who find trouble."

"No."

Almyra stood up. "Harry - I have a million questions, about meditation, and Zen, and ..."

"Balance," helped Cho.

Almyra stared at her, the question back in her face. "Yes, whatever, but not this evening. See you." She headed toward the buildings.

Cho watched her leaving. "Tactful girl, isn't she?"

"Yes, together with the entire school. We're the exhibit of Hogwarts - all that's missing is - "

" - the key for that suite - exactly, Harry, and that's another reason why I'd like to grill you over a low fire. You've compromised me, put me into a trap from which escaping is as much embarrassing as staying inside."

"You're right. I didn't foresee ... I'm sorry, Cho, that's not what I intended to do." He bowed.

Coming up, he saw a pleased look in her face. She said, "I know, Harry ... I accept the Japanase pardon ritual - actually, you're awfully good at it."

He felt hope. "So how shall we play it?"

Cho gave him a malicious grin. "I thought it over, Harry. The idea of me looking for a teacher isn't too far away, although ..."

He kept silent, remembering the words of the Weasley women.

"... in any case, I know what your role will be."

He waited for her to continue, saw her waiting, too. "Please tell me, Cho."

"You will court me, Harry. That's the perfect solution - there hasn't been much of a courting so far, has there? I fell to you like a ripe - er, fruit. Maybe that was the mistake - but it's not too late."

He suppressed a reflexive grin at her correction in mid-sentence, although now, even in the lotus position he could avoid blows quite well. And he remembered another mistake she had mentioned, saw in her eyes she remembered her own words as well, and woe betide him he would remind them ...

Thinking about the prospect, a wide smile appeared in his face, taking her by surprise. He said, "That's a wonderful idea, Cho. It's so appealing - you're right, it fits perfectly, and ... oh yes, I'll do that, with all my - "

He stopped, avoiding another trap of words, seeing her approving reaction. "Cho, I love you. I'll court you, no matter how, and how long."

She gave no reply, seemed satisfied so far, though not completely. Still, it didn't look as if she was blaming him for the slight doubt that was left visible on her face - this face which refused to be ranked, refused to fade from Harry's mind.