Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

Strange as it seemed - Harry's first step involved the services of the suspected culprit. Because he had to make a visit to London, more exactly to the Law Enforcement office, and a travelling time spanning just a second was hard to beat ... well, agreed, counting only from linkport to linkport, but reaching them added little more.

The journey took place late in the afternoon, with a ticket the Magical Tours people called One-Day Stand - a bad joke. It covered a day, to and from, for two persons. The two persons were Harry and Cho, using Steel Wings toward the Hogsmeade Linkport and the Knight Bus in London.

Seeing someone appear in Harry's trail, Belinda stopped her beaming quickly, although not quickly enough.

Sirius's smile faded similarly fast when he heard Harry's report, Listening to his godchild's plan, Sirius saw little reason to cheer up again, more to the contrary. Sighing, he looked at Cho.

"What's your comment - the spoken one, I mean?"

"I hoped you'd stop him."

Sirius nodded in some kind of resignation. "I tried once," he said, "only to learn better. Although ..." He walked to his desk and bent down. "Bel - can you join us?"

Belinda came in, sat down, her face hardly moving while Harry explained his plan again. When he'd finished, her comment was short and to the point. "No."

Cho glanced at Belinda, apparently trying to adjust feelings. Harry also looked at Belinda, just waiting.

"Well," she said, "the plan is perfect, Harry - you might join the Squad any time ..."

Cho seemed to re-adjust feelings in mid-step.

"... it's the classical police technique - only there's a tiny problem."

"Only one?" Harry's voice made clear that this was a serious question, rather than a sarcastic reply.

"Only one, yes ..." Belinda glanced at Cho, back to Harry. "From a statistical perspective, one of your two bait birds will get killed - and you can't influence which."

Harry thought it over, then said. "Bel - according to statistics, I'd be dead for the third time."

Belinda nodded. "True, Harry ... If it was you in the bait position, I'd say, go ahead."

Cho dropped any attempt of adjusting.

Belinda recognized it, not showing any reaction. She said, "Statistics only tell you so much ... There are people you could send any time, and only one out of hundred would be a loss ... Only, there aren't that many of this kind."

Cho stared at her in open hostility. "Have you been bait?"

It was Sirius who answered. "More than once ... and more than bait."

Cho understood, saw no reason to look impressed or to change her attitude. She asked, "Would you take over the role?"

Belinda's head tilted in Harry's direction. "With him as my cover? How long does it take to learn an owl Animagus?"

Months, at the least ... too long.

Belinda looked at Harry. "Is she one of the few?"

Harry nodded. Then, to his slight surprise, he heard Cho answer, "Yes, she is," and without surprise, he heard Sirius add, "She's been a member in the guard for Lupin."

Belinda's face didn't reveal which of the three answers had convinced her most, assuming she had levelled at all. Her eyes at Harry, she said, "Okay. You'll send her here, and I'll talk with her. Then, and only then, and only if you're right, I might say yes."

Cho said, "I'll come with her."

"Sure, why not?" Belinda showed a polite and very professional smile. "There's a nice cafe outside, for the time we'll be talking." Smile or not - Belinda's voice didn't offer room for negotiations in this regard.

Cho, daughter of a negotiations expert, asked, "Why don't you come to Hogwarts?"

Belinda's smile turned to a dry grin. "I'm a cop, Cho Chang, and my face isn't unknown out there. The moment they saw me, your stunt would be blown to pieces."

Only on their way back, watching how Chow took her time to chew at this reply, Harry became aware of the little twist in Belinda's explanation. Your stunt, she'd said - to Cho, mind, and this alone seemed enough to reignite Cho's wrath every five minutes.

* * *

After supper, Harry made his usual indoor walk - from the Gryffindor table to the Ravenclaw table, fully aware that the common pattern would change in a few seconds. "Hi," he said. "Al - can we talk?"

Almyra nodded.

Cho asked, "Is it about the owl stunt?"

Harry didn't want to answer, but he had to. "Yes."

"Then I want - " Cho stopped, corrected herself. "I'd like to come with you."

Which was exactly what Harry had been waiting for, maybe except for the formulation. "Obviously so," he replied, "but I'm sorry, no."

Cho had some difficulties holding her temper, however managed. "Why not?"

"Cho, your position's clear - you'll try to convince her it's suicide. I, in contrast, want to figure out whether it's indeed suicide - and if not, I want to establish a strategy how to do it. I don't think it's useful to represent two approaches as different as that in the same discussion."

"I thought it was already clear for you, for you two - "

Harry shook his head. "It was clear that we want to do it. That's not the same, not at all."

"Then ..." Cho stopped, bit her lips, kept silent.

Almyra followed him, looking as uneasy as Harry felt. Outside, he asked, "Same place?"

Almyra agreed, and they went to the spot close to the graves. This time, they sat down opposite, in contrast to the conversation not so long ago. Almyra opened the discussion. "Harry - what did you mean there at the table? Me, too, I thought it was a given that we'll do it."

"I talked with Sirius, and Bel. She wants to see you, to talk with you herself - if she nods, I'm ready ... only then."

Almyra looked astonished. "Why's her judgement so important for you?"

"It's important for both of us."

When the joke didn't catch, Harry explained, "Bel's been the bait in stunts before; she knows what she's talking about. She says, if it's the right person, the odds are ninety-nine to one - otherwise, they are about fifty-fifty."

"And - am I the right one?"

"Yes - I'm sure about that, and establishing the same belief in you is what I want to do here - not me alone, with Bel's help and maybe Sirius too ... But first I want to know something else ..."

Almyra looked expectantly, obviously expecting something about another topic, started a smile, stopping abruptly when Harry asked, "Al - how do I kill an owl?"

She swallowed, swallowed again.

"An owl is flying from here to a city. It starts at dusk; soon afterwards, it's dark. How do I get her?"

Almyra saw his point and nodded. "To get her for sure, it must be an air attack - a broomstick rider, for example ... The attacker must be able to follow her, must have an overview ... Standing on the ground with a wand, or a gun - imagine, what are the odds the owl's going to fly just the stripe where he is?"

Relieved, Harry exhaling deeply. "Okay ... then we might be in business."

Almyra looked wondering. "I thought you knew."

"That's what I expected, yes, but I had to be sure. This is a prerequisite because with such an attack, we can - " Harry stopped, because he had registered a figure coming from the building - a very familiar one.

Cho arrived, a friendly smile in her face. "May I sit down?"

"If you ... please."

Cho sat down in the grass, forming a triangle with Harry and Almyra. She looked better than the last hours. "I've changed my mind."

For once, it was Harry's turn for being astonished and clueless. "Why?"

"Because I just found out that Al will survive."

"Just so? Without help from Trelawney?"

"Yes, just so - using not more than my brain." Cho relished the moment.

Harry had the good sense not to spoil her triumph, instead waited a moment before asking, "And why's it for sure?"

"Oh, it wasn't difficult ..." Cho was in no hurry to spit it out. "Although, I have to admit, only for me ..." Registering that Harry's training in Japan, among other things, had included the ability to sit and wait patiently, if only to the outside, she gave up.

"If Al would be killed in that stunt, I'd ..." she faltered, continued, "first I'd kill you, Harry, and then myself ..."

A gasp from Almyra.

"... but as we know, thanks to Marie-Christine, our destiny's a different one. Which means, Al will survive, because it's mandatory."

This said, Cho turned to Almyra and grinned. "You didn't really think I'd refuse covering your back on a Steel Wing, did you?"

With a small outcry, Almyra lurched upward toward Cho, grabbed her, fell onto her, hugged her, was hugged back, almost rolling through the grass.

---

Lying on her back, half buried under Almyra, Cho glanced at Harry, a playful expression on her face, then looked up to Almyra's face above her.

"Look at him - right now he's thinking of something that's just impossible for him to learn."

Harry had caught the meaning already with Cho's first words - not surprisingly so, not at this sight, not after a recent conversation here at this place. His weight was on his hands. His legs inched upward, flew outward, flat over ground, coming together, passing the momentum to his body which turned, jumped, rolled, had reached Cho, lying alongside her, opposite Almyra, his head over Cho's.

A short squeak.

"You don't know all that I know." He kissed her, closely watched by a beaming Almyra, who saw no reason to move.

Cho's voice was a bit breathless, for more than one reason. "How did you come over? I didn't even see you move!"

"Well - sometimes you have to be fast, and sometimes you can take your time."

Like in slow motion, using his new strength, and skill, he bent his body over Cho, not touching her, moved his face toward Almyra, reached hers, kissed her, receiving response.

He bent back, relaxed his strained arm, looked at Cho. "See?"

"Now, now - this here's getting out of control ... Lemme get up, that's not the best position, considering - "

Harry giggled. "If Katie could see us, she'd never believe any explanation."

For an instant, Cho tensed. Then she came up, sitting. "Harry - it wasn't a joke, was it?"

He shrugged. "Whatever - it just doesn't matter, and the last thing I want is to - uhm, to be a winner from Katie's grace, so to speak ..."

Before Cho had time the sort out all the emotions that ware crossing her face, he said, "Let's do a bit of meditation, to get Al prepared for Bel's examination - and for her role as bait."

They did - quite successfully so, as Almyra's thumbs-up confirmed when returning from her trip to London.

* * *

Ron wanted to be the customer, but Hermione only snorted. "You with your never-ending grin ... They won't believe it's urgent, and if so, they'll be sure you'd realize the loss only at the end of that honeymoon."

Ron turned to Harry. "What do you say?"

"I wouldn't agree with every word she just said, but - in the essential point, she's right ... Nobody can give you hell like our Hermione."

For a change, only Ron looked pleased, while Hermione was up to her reputation, retorting, "I might know someone else, but maybe not exactly in a mail office."

When she returned from her errand, still with the parcel under her arm, Hermione looked satisfied. Yes, she had made a fuss, and how urgent it was, how important to have it there come dawn tomorrow. No, she had pressed the value only after a while, and developed her doubts, her suspicion it might get lost, her disappointment about the high fee, had left without coming to terms, muttering loudly enough that two owls from the Hogwarts pool would be fine as well, to say the least.

That had been early afternoon. Now the sun disappeared below the horizon, dusk would fall soon, and four figures would climb into the air within the next minutes - Almyra and Hedwig, tied to a long box containing a bokken, and Harry and Cho, riding their Steel Wings.

Harry had his Invisibility Cloak with him, didn't use it, though. There was no way of hiding Cho, so the stealth effect seemed almost zero, while the impact on Cho's morale, flying side by side with the tail part of a Steel Wing, would be the opposite of what he had in mind.

Almyra's hooking to the box could be opened with her other claw - they had made some tests, and it worked. Already in her owl shape, Almyra stood on the ground - calmly; owls didn't twist and didn't pale.

Harry heaved the box up, with the two owls sitting at the ends. Then he gave them a jump start together, his first for Hedwig as much as for Almyra. He reached Cho, kissed her. "I knew we'd do it together - that's never been a question."

She nodded, and they jumped up.

They flew only fifty feet behind the owls, close enough that the trap they'd set might be obvious. The owls' powerful wings were exposed to attack from above, but there had to be some exposure to lure their prey into the trap. And fifty feet was the maximum Harry could justify to himself, not earning protest from anyone in the team.

Cho used her patrol routine, eyes scanning from left to right, flicking back, scanning again, and again. She had done so for the last three quarters of an hour, not wavering, not changing the rhythm, not moving a muscle in her face.

It would have been hypnotizing, had there been a spectator. But there was none - not even Harry.

His eyes were open, yes, only they didn't recognize the surroundings, hadn't seen the last daylight fading. Rather, they recognized a patterned half-sphere, aware of differences only, of movements, unusual shapes, focusing only for instants, to widen the vision again immediately.

More than twenty uneventful miles.

Harry's newest sense - haragei, developed over the past weeks - wasn't limited by a sighting angle. Using haragei was totally different from scanning - like his vision, it was more comparable to a motionless guard, a sphere of watchful awareness.

Without seeing them, he could feel the owls' presence - Almyra stronger, Hedwig finer, sharper, smaller. He felt the steady beat of their wings, their determination, their own awareness, scanning the air, their reactions when something unusual came into sight.

The two presences were quiet, balanced in the air as much as in his haragei, not twisting, not reacting to the minute density which appeared at the border of his sphere, closing in from there - growing, quickening ...

"Hai!"

He pushed forward, Cho's instant reaction lost from his vision, still not seeing, only feeling clearly, painfully, then sensing the movement, focusing on the spot that was shooting through the air, darker in the dark.

A harpy.

---

The bird-like creature shot toward the owl that was Almyra, that was trying to gather, to dodge in the short instant of clear sight, hit her where the wing extruded from the body, did not stick, came through in a cloud of feathers and splashes which could only be blood.

Toward Cho, Harry shouted, "Stay with her," pushed harder.

Almyra the owl's wing hung like a flap. At once, the couple lost its drive, was losing height - Almyra hanging powerless, Hedwig unable to hold the weight of box plus Almyra, desperately trying to soothe the fall.

Harry didn't see the second harpy coming, not in the fading light, not until it was just ahead of him - he only felt it, with his senses vibrating since he'd seen the outburst of feathers and blood, with his haragei stretching still wider, scanning for small dents in a void.

The harpy came fast, aiming toward Hedwig.

Harry had a wand, only he didn't know how to shoot a harpy. No time to regret not having asked for that after the Battle of Hogwarts, no club like the twins, no bokken at hand - only an arm trained in aikido blows and in the classical positions of kenjutsu, a hand flat, hard, calloused from weeks in Japan.

The harpy closed in like a bokken in the middle. Harry's memory recalled Fred's manoeuver, his eyes had a split second for calculation, then his arm came down from the above, cutting like a sword's blade, hitting the harpy right behind the sharp beak, feeling the impact, sending every ounce of power from his muscular body on the still accelerating Steel Wing.

He drove the sharpest turn he ever had, felt the blackness in his head when the blood was rushing toward the legs, regained sight first, clear mind a moment later, the power of decision when the harpy came into view.

The creature he'd hit was sailing, calmly, unfluttering, not changing course, a flat dive toward the ground.

Pushing forward, coming closer, he saw that the head hung at an impossible angle to the body. This wasn't a sailing harpy, rather a dead bird, the air spanning its wings, coming toward the ground in a last flight through the evening air.

The other harpy was still busy gaining height and speed, its wings working steadily.

Harry reached it, coming from behind, his wand ready.

What now? Which spell ... stupid him, why hadn't he found the time, the presence of mind? He had to make do, had to be inventive here ... He mobilized the full power of this frightening - no, the full power of his magic, focused and directed in his magnificent wand.

"ENGORGIO!"

The harpy grew like an exploding balloon.

Harry bolted up, barely avoiding a crash into this monstrous creature. Still turning, he heard the deafening bang, felt pieces whoosh past his legs, others splashing into his back.

He slowed down, then scanned again with eyes, ears, haragei.

No more harpies - nothing but three figures on the ground.

He reached them. Cho had released Hedwig from the harness, had stretched Almyra on the soft ground, Almyra who was a girl again, a bloody mess on her shoulder, toward the neck, a pained moaning coming from her clenched teeth.

Harry knelt before Almyra, opposite Cho, took Almyra's hand. "How do you feel?"

"Don't ask ... I hope you've got better news - did you catch them?"

"Yes."

"Good."

He turned to Cho. "What about your healing skill?"

"Not good ... and I'm scared giving it a try with her."

"All right then ..." His wand slid under Almyra's robe, under her shirt, cutting like the gentlest knive, not finding glued spots, only fresh blood, more blood, undressing Almyra's chest, in a way never taught by Tamiko, nonetheless exposing beautiful breasts, a shoulder blade with a deep, nasty wound, something shimmering white in the open cut, blood trickling steadily.

There was no water, no first aid set, Madam Pomfrey far away.

Harry looked at Almyra, saw her eyes meet his own. "Okay, Al. We have to get this under control - with our magic, and with our belief ... all right?"

She tried a smile. "Are you going to use Zen?"

"And a bit more."

He moved around, sat down behind her head, in the lotus position, Almyra's head between his legs, calves touching temples, his hands on her shoulders, thumbs on the blades, fingertips feeling the soft swelling farther below. "I'm with you, Al. Now we'll work together - ready?"

"Ready."

"The first part isn't too nice. Empty your mind, Al - breathe, slowly ... calm down ... close your eyes, you're safe, let your mind fly out ..."

---

His palms were feeling, his ears listening, his haragei sensing.

After a minute, his fingers probed gently, touching the wound, probing deeper ... No twisting from Almyra's body, soft raising and falling before his eyes, his fingers feeling something hard, slightly out of order, another piece, fitting together after a gentle push, a harder pressing ... Think of it like a unit, two pieces which belong together, like a grey wand of eleven inches with a black top fitting seamlessly ... Leave it there, take your fingers out of the wound, straightening carefully, gently, lovingly, holding.

Sending a first wave of strength, he felt it fade - she wasn't there, so she couldn't receive.

"Al? ... Come back, Al - come here, set your mind up a notch."

He sensed her returning, sent the next wave, and felt it reach its destination.

His mind calmed, dropping anything other than the single-purpose sending of strength, and power, and warmth, and love, the most arcane qualities of support and reinforcement, while his body, his head, his hands were motionless, holding touch, not breaking the contact nor the stream of wa.

He barely noticed how Cho covered Almyra's body, his hands as well, how she sat down, her own hands holding Almyra's, then almost as motionless as the other two bodies.

Time passed.

Harry came awake, still in the dark, realizing from the first signs of dawn that he'd been sitting there for hours. He tensed his muscles, relaxed, careful at these first movements after such a while. Checking around, he saw Cho sitting a step apart, half asleep, her head lolling forward.

His hands under the cover probed at Almyra's shoulder. What he could feel made him push the cover aside, get his wand and whisper, "Lumos," to have some light - just enough and with a scaling of his spell he wouldn't have managed a few weeks ago.

He inspected the wound, or what was left of it: dried blood, a dark red stripe, long, broader in the middle, swollen against the surrounding flesh - closed, except for a tiny slit in the middle, some colourless liquid visible there.

About to notify Cho, Harry saw that she'c come awake by her own and was examining Almyra's shoulder. After a moment, she looked up, met his eyes. In the scarce light, he saw relief in her face, and something more ... gratitude, perhaps. Or love.

Carefully inching backward first, he stood up and stretched, bent his torso, flexed his legs, feeling the pain and the rushing blood. Having regained the bare minimum of control over his limbs, he reached Cho where she stood, embraced her, two bodies still stiff from the cold, pressing against each other, holding wordlessly.

After sunrise, Ron would raise alarm. Harry bent down again. "Al - wake up, time to leave."

Almyra opened her eyes. He saw the sensing, the careful movement, her head eying sidewards, then her hand probing.

She came up, more fluid by the second, had to find a spot some steps away, assisted by Cho, while Harry walked to a sleepy Hedwig. "C'mon, old girl ... Yesterday it was a jump start, today it's a lift back to Hogwarts." He took the owl, bundled her in his cloak, in warmth and darkness for the flight on the Steel Wing.

Almyra came back. The blood-stained shreds of a former cloak, a former shirt were hanging around her chest. She looked at him, at the torn pieces, and grinned. "It's just too ridiculous."

The shreds fell to the ground, exposing breasts covered only by some dried blood. Next moment, Almyra shrunk down to an owl - with some spots, otherwise a perfect layer of feathers.

Cho stored Almyra the owl in her own cloak.

Harry had dropped any thought of scanning the environment. One reason was that he felt tired to death. Aside from that, this was a job for the Law Enforcement Squad, or maybe for the remnants of the Hogwarts Flying Squad, or both.

Two Steel Wings at full speed raced high over ground across a lightening sky. Ten minutes later, they reached the school, to find three figures on the stairs to the Entrance Hall, covered in coats - Ron, and Hermione, and Lupin.

* * *

Belinda checked the time again, then looked at the angry man. "Is the building completely evacuated, sir? If the warning's right, this is about the time."

Matthew Gallagher, managing director of Magical Tours, glanced toward the building - the company headquarters, located nicely at the outskirts of London and showing a lot of shiny glass panes. "Yes, officer," he said. "But I still don't understand. Why didn't your own people - "

"We are the demolition team, sir." Belinda smiled pleasantly and turned to the figure at her right side. "Harry?"

The wand with the black top came up. Harry's mind focused on the target, activating all he could muster.

A white-hot flash shot toward the building, hitting the front at half height in the right part. A sound like from tingling bells, and from aching wood, then a few sharp bangs when stone broke, or steel. A rain of splinters and larger pieces of glass clattered to the ground.

Mr Gallagher stared at the image for an instant, then his head spun around toward the origin of this destructive power. At Harry's second curse, his face turned to grey, expressing disbelief and horror.

At Harry's third curse, he was moaning.

Belinda said, "Calm down, sir - it can be rebuilt ... In the meantime, you'll appreciate some owls taking over orders - and afterwards, you'll appreciate if owls still take orders, and continue so, because - next time, there might be a bomb in your own house, maybe without a warning. Xanadu Manor, was it?"

"What ... what are you ..."

"Oh - still questions, sir? Just a second ..." Belinda's voice changed from polite astonishment to glee. "Harry, see that wing over there - looks almost as if in one piece."

Harry's wand came up.

"No - please, no ..." The manager's arms, though empty, were up too.

Belinda's voice had lost any friendliness. "Do we understand each other, Mr Gallagher?"

Lips tightened. "Yes, officer, I think so."

"Then we might escort you from thinking to knowing." Belinda pointed. "Harry?"

Ignoring the protest, the confirmation, Harry opened room for air in the wing Belinda had indicated, and for quite a number of manufacturer contracts.

Mr Matthew Gallagher understood perfectly, had so already an expensive moment before, only a remark too late.

---

Belinda said, "There won't be an inquiry, Mr Gallagher - about missing owls, that is. Should we learn about more owls missing, after today, there won't be an inquiry either - although this mightn't be any of your concern any longer, if you get my bearing."

Mr Gallagher did; it was showing in his face. He asked, "With whom am I doing business, officer?"

"That's a funny question." Belinda's face, in contrast, showed little fun. "We'll find out, and then we'll come back. This here, Mr Gallagher, that's no business, just a warning you might remember, and a promise you shouldn't forget."

"Does it mean - that's it?"

The manager had to turn a little because it was Harry who answered.

"There's an owl Animagus who has seen a harpy where none should have been, actually has been hurt ... Although I'm sure, for, say, ten thousand galleons, this Animagus might forget."

Negotiations, the life elixir of a managing director, seemed to blow some spirit back into Mr Gallagher. "That's unrealistic," he said in a dismissive tone.

Harry smiled. "I fully agree, sir - while twenty thousand are certainly enough - "

"You're joking!"

"Yes, sir, how right you are, haha, what I meant was actually forty thousand."

Cho, at Belinda's left side, was staring at him.

Mr Gallagher's lips opened - closed, and tightened. His head nodded.

"Gringotts," explained Harry, feeling sure his bankerese was understood. "Two-way keywords, the initial one is Falcon." Harry's wand touched his own temples lightly. "You won't forget, sir, and then you'll forget quickly, am I right?"

"Falcon, yes."

"Then there's another witness who had to take pains shredding those harpies, and was hit by some foul dirt - actually, it's me ... I still can feel this awful mess of blood and bones - but with a sponsorship to Hogwarts, for three recreation centers in Japan style, I'll overcome that."

Silence.

Harry glanced at the tip of his wand which, seemingly by accident, slowly tilted down toward a building with many parts left intact. "Was it three, sir?"

"Three." The word could be spoken with clenched teeth.

"And then," said Harry, "there's this young lady who suffered a severe stress - but she may express herself." He turned. "Cho?"

For an instant, Cho looked stupefied. Then she said, "Oh - that takes me by surprise, really - I'm still a bit slow, after this awful accident, I mean a minute ago ... Well - oh yes, I know."

She smiled. "A little rest in a nice place will help me recover - there's this valley, what's-its-name, the one with the Giants - except it has no portkey connection yet, naturally so, because the Giants don't tolerate it there - so it has to be a mobile one, to be activated on call within, say, two hours."

Harry added, "The other end is Hogsmeade, sir. By the way, we appreciate this service very much, won't miss it ... Although you won't find all of us there at any time, most unlikely so, don't know why ..."

Mr Gallagher was able to register the details in his head - small surprise, considering his position in the company. While nobody expected him to use this skill in daily business, there had to be quite some meetings for which his secretaries lacked the clearance for more confidential issues. Like this one here.

"Oh - " called Cho, "I almost forgot - we'll need some network tickets, extended at the end of each year - I think six will do ... Global network, of course."

Mr Gallagher nodded. "Of course." Then he turned to Belinda. "Officer?"

Belinda smiled sweetly. "I've waited long to hear that, someone trying to bribe me ... People knowing me better never found the spirit." She turned to Harry. "See that corner there - yes, already battered, but ..."

Mr Gallagher watched the spectacle in calmness, only his breath sounded a bit hard.

This done, Belinda smiled again. "Mr Gallagher - how do you guess the age of this young lady?"

The manager turned toward Cho. "I don't understand ..."

A flash, a click, this time from the camera in Belinda's hand. "Well," she said, "it's because I have this picture here, showing you with a - oh, what's that? The girl is considerably younger, must have been at the photo plate already, and - oh my, she's totally naked, and ... Sorry, sir, please spare me to tell the details - I'll store this picture at a safe place, safe from your wife, for example, and you may wish me a long life because - ah, I see, I really can spare the details ... It's a pleasure doing business with you, Mr Gallagher - have a nice day."

They walked away.

Cho beamed at Harry. "Brilliant ... I'd never thought of it, to squeeze some money out of them."

"Well - I had a lesson, still here in London actually, on the way to Japan."

Cho turned to Belinda. "This picture - is this really necessary?"

"You can bet your - arm, very nice actually ... This picture's my life insurance."

Cho looked incredulous. "Seriously?"

Belinda nodded. ""I just don't take chances, although, in this case, he took it hard. It was more than money ... But in his marriage, she's the one with the money," Belinda grinned maliciously, "and she wouldn't appreciate this picture a bit - although it's very artful, honestly."

Harry's giggle earned him a sharp glance from Cho, while not a single question from Belinda who assigned it to her clever usage of photographic tricks.

Belinda stopped, turned. "So that's it? Harry - Miss Chang?"

"Not quite." Cho looked at her, swallowed once. "Erm - please call me Cho ... You're a hell of a cop, er - Belinda ... yes, okay, Bel ... And then - please tell me where we can treat you at least with a drink and an early dinner, might turn out a late one."

* * *

Harry sat on the blanket, lotus position, and gazed over the lake's surface where the splashing of water interchanged with suntanned skin and spots of colour. The flatwater gang, he had dubbed them, because no one in this group of students could follow his dive courses, longer and deeper than ever, neither in the speed of his underwater swimming nor in the timespan he could keep down.

Close to two minutes already - without stressing himself, lacking any ambition for setting records, driven only by this magnificent world, supported by his mind, his magic and its influence toward involuntary body functions.

The flatwater gang included Cho, recognized by her red swimsuit, Almyra, easily detectable in her white one, then Ron and Janine, red hair and freckled faces safe from being confused because they were always found close to each other. Then Hermione and Viktor, green and black, and Ginny - sometimes with, sometimes without Grigorij, herself always in a suit of light peach which could have been called skin-coloured, except that Ginny's own skin showed a deep tan. Even so - skintight was certainly a proper description.

Ginny and Grigorij - Harry watched this discourse for quite some time already, knew it was trouble in progress. Grigorij was starving - the only term describing the situation properly, dangling at Ginny's outstretched arm. He came only because of her, was uneasy with the older students. Ginny concentrated her full interest in older people, invited Grigorij only when annoyed from being a single in this group.

Her growing skill in several techniques did nothing to relax the situation. To begin with, this included aikido and the ability to let Grigorij sail through the air at leisure. More importantly, Ginny had mastered a graceful gait with a balance approaching perfection, good enough to turn many heads, even from the distance. Still worse, her repertoire included a collection of quite provocative movements, result of genuine talent, personal interest, and careful study of people like Fleur, Katie, Janine ... and Almyra.

Almyra didn't provoke by habit or on purpose. Much simpler - seeing her walk in this white suit over the dark-bronze body was a provocation by itself. Long legs, wide hips, wide shoulders, high breasts, this small belly much better than flat, and a total ignorance toward all these attributes, aware of a face whose features were too strong, too remarkable to be nice, envious of girls with long, black manes like Cho's.

Cho was smaller, altogether less curved - flat belly, hips not as wide, same with the shoulders, leaving enough places with less straight profiles, prominently enough for Harry's taste, above and below. And then her face, of course, and her hair - if life would be fair, they had to stay out of competition, like Almyra from shoulders to toes, because then, as Hermione had stated, she would win easily. The remark had earned a challenging glance from Ginny and the unspoken words, "How long, still?"

Hermione represented the perfect compromise, seemed to benefit from sunbathing, waterbathing, and, lacking that, periods of bad weather. This was also true for her mood, less edgy, more tolerant than ever. But then, maybe it was the graduate work.

---

Almyra appeared at the waterline, then stepped out, followed by Cho. Reaching Harry, Almyra asked, "So - how's your Waterese?" Which meant, could he talk already with the merpeople?

"Doing okay," replied Harry. "We're on bubbling terms."

Cho had arrived and looked at him expectantly. "While on the subject - can we let the big bubble blow?"

"Any time - once you two have stopped dripping."

"Not so saucy, young man!"

Harry looked innocent. "I was talking about lakewater - what's your - " He avoided the blow with the towel effortlessly, though not for lack of Cho's try.

Almyra had toweled herself, now glanced from Cho to Harry, and back. "Bubble? What bubble?"

Harry could see that Almyra expected something else, that she was fully unaware. He said, "It's total nonsense - because it's quite flat." He grabbed for the Gringotts' booklet, then stood up.

"Almyra, sister in spirit, this old buddy of mine at Gringotts asked me to pass this over to you - saved him a hobble."

Almyra scanned through the booklet, examined the entry at the first side, looked blank. "So?"

Cho's face was shining. "The first password is Falcon ..."

Harry finished, "... and the second one's Jamaica - a one-timer, you need an update the first time you're going to use it."

"Me? ... Why me?" Almyra shook her head, then tried to offer the booklet back to Harry. "Must be a mistake." Not finding a hand to take the booklet, she glanced at Harry again, at Cho, slowly starting to realize.

Harry found the shortest version. "Magical Tours would have liked to pass it over by themselves, with compliments and apologies, but they felt a bit shy."

Almyra melted down, her remarkable legs suddenly quite unsteady. The rest of the flatwater gang took this moment to join them.

Seeing the newcomers, Almyra glanced at Harry, a booklet in a trembling hand. "Can I tell? Is it ...?"

Harry smiled. "Al - it your's: your decision, your story, your account."

The others had heard the story of the damaged headquarters already before. Now they learned the full story, told by a beaming Cho.

When she had finished, Ron looked indignantly at Harry, then at her. "Cho - you have to do something with that bad habit: a Privileged for Steel Wings ... a compensation for Ginny, the next one for some bathrooms - "

"I've got no problem with that," replied Cho with a mocking grin. "My side is buttered, quite well so ... And besides, Harry has a high opinion of bathrooms."

Harry preferred to answer Ron's remark. "At least I've improved since that negotiation with the London Linkport manager - won't you agree?"

Oh yes, Ron would.

Almyra's voice was shaky. "It's too much."

Harry's voice sounded like an apology. "I'm sorry - I had ten in mind, but it didn't work out that way."

Almyra glanced around. "Who's going to share with me?"

Nobody was - least of all Ron, followed by Ginny.

Almyra looked at Harry. "I don't deserve it. You - "

"Stop that crap!" Cho's voice was sharp.

Harry nodded. "Right." He stared ostentatiously at the fine line that was still visible on Almyra's shoulder, tracing downward.

"But at least some presents ... It's so ..."

Presents would be accepted, up to some point. Ginny hinted that her own point left room for a nice kimono, since Harry's sample seemed so convincing ...

Harry grinned, hiding the true reason. "Al - if you want to make a nice present, I'd know a boy who might be happy about a little comfort - actually within your reach."

Catching Harry's thought - Damon Harker - Almyra seemed extremely pleased. "Harry, that's a wonderful idea ..." Then she looked baffled. "Only - what might that be?"

Now Harry laughed loudly. Still, Almyra couldn't follow, in contrast to Cho, then Hermione, also Ron. Finally, Harry said, "I shouldn't have to tell you: an owl, what else?"

"You see," said Ron, "that's the bad side-effect from money. It stiffens your brain."

Unfortunately, he had made his remark within reach of Cho's fists. As anyone else could tell next moment, Ron also lacked Harry's skill in defense.

Almyra laughed, stopped, then another beaming lit up in her face. "Yes, Harry - your idea's better than you know by yourself, only ..." She glanced toward Cho, was soon afterwards in a hurry, left the group, "to get things in order," as she said, while Harry had little doubt about this order, about someone in the school who never would cross the invisible borderline between teachers and students, at least not for a late afternoon swim party.

---

Ginny, who had intented to follow immediately, dropped the idea after catching Harry's nearly invisible shaking of the head. She let a decent amount of time go by, then disappeared.

Ron involved Harry and Viktor in a conversation about Quidditch. This felt a bit surprising, but then maybe Ron's captain role had to do with it, or there was simply too much daylight left.

Hermione talked with Janine, after a look toward Cho who had fallen asleep on the blanket, face down, presenting nice - yes, arms too.

Then Janine lost patience with Quidditch, and the conversation lost Ron from the round.

Hermione sent Viktor for the broomsticks, smiled at Harry. "See you - not too soon, hopefully."

He grinned. "Don't hold your breath."

"No ... Harry, a riddle to kill the time: what's the complement of brainstorming?" Not expecting an answer, Hermione left together with Viktor.

Harry watched the two broomsticks fade to dots across the lake. Then he turned to look at Cho, lying on her stomach, the black hair still drizzled from the water and its dirt.

He reached into the bag, found the comb, boxwood, slightly sticky. Kneeling at her side, he started to comb Cho's hair.

The comb was superb, its manufacturing masterly to the finest edge of each tooth.

Cho had awakened, maybe already before, maybe hadn't slept at all. She accepted his combing, tilted her head forward so he could stroke the full length of her magnificent mane.

"Harry?"

"Hmm."

"I saw how you looked at Al."

His stroking didn't falter. "She has a fine body, hasn't she?"

A longing in Cho's voice. "It's perfect ... If I had the the slightest tendency to ..." She stopped.

Harry completed the sentence in his mind. "Yes, I could understand that."

"Oh, could you?"

"Yes."

"She's more attractive than I."

"No she isn't. She's bigger, and has wider shoulders ..."

Cho's voice lacked any sharpness. "That's a nice term, Harry - wider shoulders. Very - "

He interrupted her. "I mean exactly what I said - wider shoulders. Yes, her breasts are a bit bigger, which is fine for her. Hers on your body would be too big."

"I don't think so, but don't stop assuring me."

"I think so. And besides, figure is just one part. You know that Al wishes she had your face."

"No I didn't ... Does she really?"

"You know what I mean. I think she has a wonderful face, but it will never win a public contest. While you - you've inherited your mother's face."

"Mmmmmh ... Go ahead, Harry."

"I'm not going to drop the comb."

"You know ..." His chuckling made her stop. After a moment of silence, Cho started again, "Harry?"

"Hmm."

"Do you - desire her?"

His answer came after a second's thinking. "A moment ago, you told me that you desire her, only that you'd never ... Something like that, anyway. Well, I guess I feel the same ... During this flight, and afterwards - my feelings for her are definitely more than spirituel - there's a sensuality in them, and the knowledge of her flawless body isn't exactly cooling it, but ..." His smile was in his voice. "If we travel toward the clouds and the rain, then toward real ones, and she's an owl."

---

He continued to stroke. Was it the hissing from the comb, or a purring from Cho? Holding her hair in one hand, he bent forward, planted his lips on her neck. Undeniably, it was a purring.

Had been. "Stop that."

His lips traced the line along her spine.

"I said, stop it, Harry. Now."

"No." He traced back.

"What do you have in mind? Going to rape me?"

Considering her question, it was astonishing how still Cho kept lying. Harry said, "I'm not going to do anything against your will."

"Really? ... Then how come you don't stop if I say so?"

His lips were nuzzling her neck again, close to her left ear. "Because your body's telling me something totally different."

"Oh, does it? ... Must be a flaw."

His tongue caressed her earlobe. Next moment, his lips were back at her neck, his teeth gently biting her flesh. He heard her gasp, her breath accelerating. His mouth could feel her pulse beating.

His hands moved the swimsuit strings from the shoulders.

No protest, only a faster breathing, and some support from herself while he pulled the strings further to free her arms again. His lips moved from her shoulders to an upper arm, back to her body, down the flanks. Then his hands started the same route, only on both sides, shifting the suit farther down.

Her chest came slightly upward, making room for moving the thin fabric, room also for his hands.

He followed the invitation, stroking again from the shoulders downward, inward, feeling the soft firmness, her hardening, hearing another gasp. Feeling himself, too.

Taking both mounds into his hands, he pulled her gently upward. With Cho kneeling before him, he moved a bit forward, still cupping her, pressed her body against his own, his hardness against her back, his mouth at the side of her neck, struggling with the thick mane.

Her hands came around, finding his hips, stroking his thighs.

His hands let go, to stroke downward, to move the suit down her legs, passing the first knee lifted for an instant, then the other. Stroking upward, inward, he felt her trembling, his fingertips telling him she was ready.

He released her to move his own drawers down. She turned on her knees, looked at him, stretched her arms to reach his hips, to stroke his thigs.

He stretched, taking her with him, lying alongside her, one arm under her neck, the other caressing over her body, the flat belly, the tuft of hair, gently parting, his lips eager to touch and to suck, his eyes equally eager to look.

Her breath came panting, accompanied by soft sounds froom deep inside when his fingers hit a spot, released it an instant later.

Her voice was insisting, pleading. "Come."

He had waited for this moment, through torturing weeks. Was it an attempt to relish it, or a tiny revenge, or his training, including an admonition from Tamiko for this particular situation?

"Not yet."

She moaned, a sound of desperation, powerless arms trying to grab him, to move him.

He blocked the first, shifted the other away, not finding resistance, his hand returning to her body, circling her flesh, pressing, releasing, parting.

The trembling in her body was growing, the ragged gasps coming quicker.

He lifted himself onto her, found her hands at him, guiding, found her wet core, then a resistance, tried to remember an advice ...

Almost a cry. "Push!"

He broke through, heard her cry, felt her tensing, constricting, held her, moved inside her, desperate to do it right, to overcome the pain, to guide her through this moment ...

She relaxed a bit, calming, the sounds from her mouth softer, sweeter, the sweetest he'd ever heard, wondering whether he had confused pain with something else, although not unsimilar.

His concern had slowed him down, cooled him a bit, enough to know this journey couldn't be finished with a few last steps. Her hands were on his back, trailed down, held him, pulling him, accelerating his step, about to break his control.

He paused for an instant, took her first arm, put it over her head, then the other, holding them.

The response came immediately, strongly, although not from her arms, rather from her hips, from her sharp intaking of breath, accelerating quickly.

It was enough to lose all control, to push the pace, thrusting hard, race toward the end, reach it.

Pausing for this instant, he felt her own wild movements. With his last strength, he held on, moved on until, seconds later, he felt her arching up.

---

They were lying face to face, looking at each other, slowly caressing with fingers, with eyes, with words.

"The thought of you and - er, Tamiko made me mad, while the thought of you doing it with her was so ... When you told me about Katie and Alicia - I could have killed them, while the thought that you declined the offer, because of me - waiting for ... If it hadn't been in the hall ... Anyway, your performance there saved me - although not ..." She giggled.

He grinned.

She saw it, peeked his nose with her finger, next moment changing to a soft touch along the line of his scar. "And then your performance with Kenzo - I knew exactly what I did, not coming into the hall, not to be seen by ... or heard, for that matter ... Fortunately, the others in the room made enough noises, and in the dark ... I had some trouble."

Listening to her, he felt himself growing again. His hand pushed her slightly, his fingers trailed down her body, stroking, testing. "I wouldn't call this a flaw, quite the contrary, because ... It raises another reaction."

"Really?" One of her hands was verifying, while the other tried to stop his own. "Then we might try a bit of cold water, or something nicer, but not ..."

He took her arms, shifted them upward, felt her responding immediately, dropping any thought of alternatives which included something cold, or would leave anyone present stay in the cold, or lie, for that matter.

* * *

Several days later, a figure blocked Harry's path from the supper table - not quite, just enough so the intention was clear. This someone did not grab him, wanted to talk at a quiet place nonetheless.

They found this place in a corner of the Entrance Hall. After sitting down, the black eyes of Rahewa Lightfoot stared at him, then looked at the floor. "Harry ... I have a question to ask."

"Then we'll sit for a while until you'll ask me."

She smiled, outperforming him by sitting for a while, though a short one. Then she said she'd be back in a moment, disappeared, and returned with a Firebolt in her hand.

"Someone sent me this, and I don't know who."

For a moment, Harry felt perplexed, once more retransmitted in time while examining the brand new Firebolt, slightly different from his own three years ago, otherwise still the same, still the top rank in racing broomstick technology of the sports category.

Then he had a fair guess, and saw his thought confirmed when reading the registration label, which showed the number 'RHW LF11'. This detail raised a warm rush of feeling toward Almyra in his mind.

Rahewa had watched him. "Has it been you, Harry?"

He smiled, shook his head. "No."

She said nothing, only her eyes told him she didn't believe.

His expression grew solemn. "I won't lie to you, Rahewa, not even in such a case. I'd just say nothing."

She blushed a bit, embarrassment in her face, then nodded.

Starting to grin, Harry said, "But I know who it was. And I know why."

Did she look a bit disappointed, hearing the Firebolt came from someone else? What she said was, "Can you tell me why?"

"This someone came across money - quite a lot, actually. It was a compensation for taking a deadly risk, and suffering pain. She wanted to share with someone, and somehow, she found you."

A careful glance signaled Rahewa's question.

"No - not Cho."

With some surprise, Harry could see in Rahewa's face that there was no question left: with Cho excluded, the sponsor seemed identified. It made him aware that the girl was tracking his every step. He examined her face again, hoping it wasn't another Ginny syndrome, felt quite sure about that - maybe another Gabrielle syndrome.

The black eyes stared at him again. For someone with less balance in mind and soul, they would be very disquieting. Rahewa asked, "Why me?"

"It's a bit complicated, what with houses and so ... She thinks she owes the money to me, although I was the one who sent her to face those risks, and - well, so it had to be a Gryffindor."

Rahewa nodded, then looked away, however not quickly enough to hide a dreamy state in her face.

No - this wasn't a Gabrielle syndrome either. For Gabrielle, Harry was the hero, the one to fight dragons and dark wizards. She would never dream of being sent by him toward death and horror.