Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

Next morning, when sitting at a late breakfast, Harry had mail - from an owl that looked a bit sullen and seemed in a hurry to get paid before returning to its sleeping bar as quickly as possible.

When opening the letter, Harry knew why: the flight had been short, compared to others, and the owl sent the same morning, from a house he'd seen once and would see again in a few days.

The Chang family asked for the honour of his visit - for a dinner party to celebrate the last evening of the old year, and the arrival of the new year. The letter also informed him that Western or Oriental Muggle clothes would be appropriate and that a limousine would pick him up in time. The message ended by expressing the hope he would come with Nagini. An answer was expected only in the unfortunate case of his decline.

Well, Harry wasn't going to decline, so much for sure.

Ron looked envious. Ma Weasley complained that she would have to wait still longer before seeing Cho in The Burrow. Ginny looked quite relaxed and asked Harry which clothes he would wear - kimono - and, without the others around, which perfume he would use.

She had much fun with her question, even if it wasn't answered.

Early afternoon, Harry travelled to the Magical Tours headquarters. He didn't know what to expect. He'd pondered the thought of taking Nagini with him, but had finally dropped the idea.

The reception lady sent him to Public Relations.

The tickets weren't recorded in their files. They asked him where, or how, or when he'd received them. His answer was good enough to send him to the new Managing Director, a Mr Boonhill.

Mr Boonhill looked at the tickets, then at Harry.

"I'm sorry, Mr Potter, but Magical Tours has no obligation to prolongate these tickets. They'll be valid until the middle of next year, since these are one-year tickets, but that will be the end of them."

"Mr Gallagher said something else."

"The late Mr Gallagher may have seen reasons which had nothing to do with Magical Tours, Mr Potter, and I don't want to know about such reasons ... At any rate, since I don't see a way to fulfill your request, it has been nice to talk with - "

"You have a nice building here, Mr Boonhill."

"I beg your pardon?"

It were less the tickets themselves which made Harry feel a growing rage, made his voice hard and threatening; it was the memory of Belinda McGraw and a life insurance that hadn't provided any protection. He snarled, "It's pretty new, isn't it? Most of it, I mean - there was a large-scale renovation, if I remember correctly."

Mr Boonhill looked cold. "Mr Potter, maybe you are confusing something. Anyway, if you'll excuse me - my assistant will escort you outside." He pressed a button.

The door opened, and a man came in. The man looked at Harry, and Harry looked at the man. It was the jump artist from London Linkport, and everything happened very fast.

In his first steps, the man walked perfectly normal, except that Harry received red alert messages from his haragei. He kept motionless until the man was in the proper distance, was already falling down and to the side when the jump kick came, was out of reach, was up and had his wand ready when the man, about to start his second attack, stopped.

There was little doubt, this man knew a bit more about aikido than Harry himself, which meant there would be just one successful attack, which meant this was no time for playing around. Part of Harry's training with Kenzo had dealt with the mental state that enabled him to use his skill and his power - without limitation, excluding nothing, not even the Killing Curse.

His wand was pointing motionlessly. "If you want to live, sit down - slowly."

The man looked into his eyes, saw something, recognized it, and seemed to nod. He sat down where Harry had been sitting a moment ago, his back to Harry.

"Mr Boonhill," said Harry, "I wouldn't be surprised to hear that you've changed your mind about the tickets."

"Why should I? There's no reason, and I'd prefer if you'd perform your gymnastics somewhere else, Mr Potter."

"Not bad ..." Harry felt indeed somewhat baffled, hearing this answer. Then a thought struck him.

"You may want to discuss this with your assistant, Mr Boonhill - after all, this building is just too nice ..."

Some messages seemed to flow between Mr Boonhill and his assistant, although no words were spoken. Then the manager said, "Well, all right, Mr Potter - at second thought, I guess we should honour the agreement you had with the late Mr Gallagher, still without knowing, and not wanting to know, I hope you understand what I mean."

"Absolutely, Mr Boonhill ..." His eyes at the sitting man rather than at his conversation partner, Harry said, "There are six tickets altogether. I'd suggest that they'll be ready within the next ten days in the Hogsmeade office, so we don't need to hang around here, in this nice building with all these large glass panes, and I can leave you to your business. Can we agree on that?"

A quick glance told him that another unspoken conversation was taking place. Then Mr Boonhill said, "Yes, Mr Potter, an excellent suggestion. They'll be ready a week from now."

"Very good, Mr Boonhill. Have a nice day, and don't bother - I'll find the exit alone, without having an accident, and maybe we can save this ceremony the next year ... Good afternoon."

Outside the room, Harry waited a moment, his haragei and his getsumai no michi fully active. But there was nothing - he'd interpreted the communication inside correctly, they wouldn't try another attack in this building, not while he was expecting it.

Having reached the outside without registering anything unusual, he walked for a while before flagging down the Knight Bus - mostly to have some time for thinking, also to let his adrenaline level calm down to normal. What he would have liked most was a talk with Sirius, only there was no way, not until Sirius would contact him. And discussing the accident with Ron would invariably result in a suggestion to talk with Sirius.

At the end, Harry decided to report some reluctance, and a bit of blackmailing from his side, about a nice building and such. This version had the beauty of being perfectly true - well, just leaving out his second encounter with the jump artist, an encounter which, somehow, had been more remarkable than the first.

Not because of the attack. No - one more movement, and the man would have been the target of Harry's second Killing Curse. But he'd seen it, known it, and the movement never came.

* * *

Harry was dressing in his room for the dinner party - Japanese, of course, and literally every garment new - when, after a short knock which didn't wait for an answer, more exactly ignored it, the door opened and Ginny came in.

He stared at her. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Calm down." Her expression was neutral, maybe like that of a surgeon, more or less. "There's a lesson missing in your collection, and I'm here to show you."

He looked dumbfounded.

Ginny took the Samurai flask. "You don't know yet how to perfume yourself properly ... It's like with jewelry - too little is nonsense, too much is awful."

"Oh ... I never would have guessed."

She smiled. "That's why I'm here."

He had to undress his shirt again, watched in astonishment the amount Ginny used, only there was no doubt - his senses as well as Nagini's silence told him she was serious, wanted him making the best impression.

The only complaint came from Nagini. She asked her master whether he knew about the delicate olfactory system of snakes.

"All right, okay ..." Harry took the bag from Ron. "Here, jump in - and keep your tongue inside, so it won't be that bad."

The limousine arrived - empty, so to speak, which of course was true only for the back compartment.

The Chang parents had the decency to wait inside. It was Cho who opened the door, wearing a kimono, not quite as breathtaking as the one at the ball evening, red nevertheless. And she was wearing his wooden brooch. She sniffed at him, beamed, and greeted him for a moment.

Then she sniffed again. "Perfect - wouldn't you say so?"

He smiled, for this moment as well for a future one when Cho would sniff another scent. "Yes ... How did you like yours?"

His present for Cho was a hand mirror. While the mirror itself just looked exquisite - a frame of black wood, surrounding a perfectly polished surface of plated steel rather than glass - the special attribute was the mirror's habit to issue comments. From a small selection of different styles, Harry had chosen the slightly intimate one. Well, maybe not so slightly.

Cho grinned. "You and your presents."

"Why? What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing, basically, only that my mother was trying the mirror the other day, before I could recognize its exact nature to the full extent ..."

"Oh no ..."

"Relax - she had much fun with it."

"Erm ... You said presents - plural."

Cho touched the brooch. "This one here. I forgot to tell you that my father can read Japanese."

Before Harry could ask for Mr Chang's comment, Cho pushed him farther inside, and next moment he could have asked directly. When he offered today's single flower to Mrs Chang - an orchid, almost white, with a slight tinting toward red, the closest thing to a cherry blossom he'd found - she said smiling, "It's beautiful. Your presents are something to look forward to, Harry."

When he bowed, she added, almost inaudibly, "... or listen."

Coming up again, it could have been a trick his ears were playing. Mrs Chang's face didn't reveal anything unusual.

Then the Changs' attention fell onto Nagini. They were a little surprised, had expected him to arrive with the snake around his body, probably as a result of Cho's description.

"Well," explained Harry, "she's been complaining a bit."

"Because of the cold?" It was Mr Chang's question.

"Erm - no, certainly not in the car. It's Cho's present - the perfume."

For the first time, Harry heard an open, cheerful laughter from both Changs. Only Cho muttered, "Ignorant serpent."

Still chuckling, Mr Chang looked at his daughter. "No, she isn't ignorant at all - that's exactly her problem."

Mrs Chang admired the brilliant pattern on Nagini's skin, then looked at Harry with a slight self-consciousness. "Harry - would you please ..."

"Oh - yes of course. I always forget." He turned to Nagini. "So - how is it to travel in that bag?"

"Very nice, master. It's a bit unusual - so totally relaxed. It's like swimming in warm water."

"And what's your impression of the Changs?"

"I like them. Normally, people in this country are a bit frightened when looking at me. There's no such feeling in them. And I like them for their feelings toward you."

Harry would have preferred giving a summary translation, only this felt so impolite, and Mrs Chang was looking so expectantly. Slightly blushing, he translated by quoting Nagini word for word.

Mrs Chang looked delighted. "Now I can fully understand your remark, Harry. You're right, it could be very embarrassing with Nagini around - except that's not our problem, as she has so nicely confirmed."

Mr Chang seemed thoughtful. "She's a very powerful companion. It's remarkable how your worst enemy appears as the source of your greatest gifts."

His wife protested. "In first place, there was Harry himself, and his character."

Mr Chang presented one of these perfect bows, with the tiniest movement.

Harry said, "That's something I owe to my parents. And looking at sources, there are still other parents ranking higher."

This time, the slight bow was directed toward him, and Harry felt reminded of moments when receiving approval from Shigura. Next moment, however, even Cho's beaming was washed off his mind by a cold shock. Harry was the first guest, and Mr Chang explained why, and what he had in mind.

"All other guests of today are Muggles, Harry. They don't know about wizards - with one little twist in this definition, and I hope you'll do me the favour ... I have announced you as an amateur magician who will entertain us after dinner."

Harry gazed into the faint smile. "You mean - something like those people on a stage?"

"Yes - except there is no stage, and I dearly hope your animations will differ from the standard repertoire."

Harry swallowed. "Probably, sir - since I don't know anything about standard repertoires."

Mr Chang smiled broader. "That's just fine, Harry - so you won't be tempted to copy. Oh, before I forget - Nagini is of course part of your special hobby."

---

Harry felt wedged between a rock and a hard place. Mr Chang had caught him neatly - after all, wasn't a wizard good to play a magician, any time and without preparation?

A moment later, Cho had the opportunity to look sympathetically at him. "That's my father, a challenge on legs."

"Comes as a real surprise, since there's nobody around who's inherited that from him."

Cho's smile turned flippant. "Encouraging you is just a waste of time. I'm looking forward to this presentation, my young magician."

The guests arrived, standing and talking for a while with glasses in their hands, before they gathered around a large table. All the while, Harry's mind kept working overtime - settling to the thought of the presentation ahead, trying to find innocent conversation.

Yes, he attended the same school as Cho, that's where they had met.

Something in the ministry - er, Internal Affairs. He didn't know exactly what his father was doing.

Yes, this scar was part of his role. The technique used for fixing it was a bit complicated, so he'd done it in advance.

No, he wasn't truly Japanese. Just a part of his role, and with reference to their hosts.

No, he couldn't read Japanese, recommended to ask Cho herself what the characters on her brooch meant.

Even as unfamiliar as he felt to Muggle habits at dinner parties, this question seemed quite impertinent. During the dinner, Harry watched the man who'd asked with more attention than toward others, using eyes, ears, and haragei. What he received in general was a mix of joy, curiosity, excitement, also boredom, while the echo from this man seemed strangely blank.

The lady to his left, roughly the same age as the Changs, tried to interview him about Hogwarts. He answered carefully; only when he sensed the direction into which her questions aimed, he was busy to find a few stop marks.

No, Hogwarts was not widely known, didn't care about that.

As far as he could judge, mostly for immigrants. They seemed to find considerably less prejudice than at other schools.

Mixed education? Since he didn't know any other, he couldn't confirm if this was worlds better, especially for the higher classes, ha ha.

No, they were totally separated, and with different passwords for the doors.

If he ever tried to break a password? Why should he?

Social events? Well, of course, for example together with other schools ... In France, for example.

Yes, French people were quite entertaining ... Open-minded? In which sense?

Oh - certainly ... Alcohol, for example. Difficult to handle for someone as little experienced as him.

The lady stated he didn't look that unexperienced, what with his special hobby and so. And offstage ...

At this point, Cho assured her yes, Harry could handle his fans well, especially since it was her job to keep them at bay, behind the stage as well as in more public places, although still of private nature.

This stop mark took effect.

Then it was time for his performance.

He started with elementary spells, the simplest of them a rapid movement with his wand, producing a short rainbow of sparkling stars. Another one was not quite as simple - shooting fireworks with the wand was basically second-years' work, while the same trick in an artfully decorated salon required more skill, in order not to burn holes into the furniture.

The guests responded with ah's and oh's, only that man seemed to have just fun.

Harry asked Cho to join him, made her levitate, and escorted her back to her place. The applause was polite - obviously, and quite by accident, he had imitated a common Muggle trick.

Then he called his table neighbour to him and asked her which hair colour she always had wanted to try but never dared.

The woman, currently dark blonde, wasn't afraid taking on the challenge. "Well, young man, I'd like to see how I'll look when I'm old and grey."

Feeling sure it wasn't meant literally, Harry produced a perfect silver, like a Veela mane cut short.

The guests closest to them gasped, then applauded. The woman seemed desperate to find a mirror. Cho was quickest - arriving with her hand mirror. When the woman studied herself, with breathless silence in the room, everybody could hear it.

"Well, well - certainly nothing to push off the bedside."

Even from those few people, the laughter was deafening, in particular since nearly everyone was convinced the comment had been Harry's own, given through another trick.

Anyway - the woman looked very pleased.

For his next trick, Harry prepared by sending a line of candles into the air, after asking Cho to switch off the light. Then he conjured his Golden Patronus.

The Centaur moved gracefully through the spacious room, returned to him. "There's no harm, master - at least no immediate one."

With a bow from both sides, the Centaur faded. Harry made the candles disappear, the light went on again. Watching the faces, he saw admiration, and awe - and something like fright, in the face of that man. Enough for him to start his mind working, particularly so after this strange remark from the Centaur.

He grabbed Nagini, took her around his body. With his eyes toward the guests, he asked her, "Nagini - look at that man in the corner, the one with the light-brown hair ... There's something special with that guy."

Hearing him, the other guests looked surprised, appreciating, expectant - with one remarkable exception. The man's face showed deep horror.

"Special, master? He's a wizard, that's all ... Not a pleasurable mind, only that's nothing special."

Harry announced that his snake was a lie detector, and that he would like to interview a volunteer who was supposed to embed some lies in his answers. When the guests hesitated a moment, he added, smiling, "I'll not ask delicate questions, just simple things."

Another woman came forward and sat down. Harry could sense a mix of excitement and anxiousness. First, he asked for the name and the address. Both were given properly.

Then he asked for the phone number. Nagini hissed at the answer. Harry said, "That wasn't true, Mrs Thompson. Maybe it's a problem with numbers. Let's see ... What's your birth date - first the day?"

Nagini kept silent.

"And the month?"

Still no hissing.

"No, it's not symptomatic with numbers. Let's try something else - what's your personal taste in sweets?"

Giggling, the woman confessed to fall regularly for licorice, not earning a remark from Nagini.

Asked about drinks, the woman claimed a preference for champagne.

"Well, Mrs Thompson - whatever it is, certainly not champagne ... Since I don't know other questions, without getting too intimate - thank you for your cooperation." Harry bowed.

According to the woman's expression, she seemed relieved and disappointed at the same time, not being interviewed further.

Harry looked around. "Now - whoever thinks this was planned in advance may come forward and give it a try."

A man stepped forward, apparently convinced to catch him quickly. Pretty soon, he looked a bit scared, although not as bad as the other man.

Coming to the end, Harry walked around, conjuring up a flower for every woman while emptying the men's glasses with the tip of his wand, "for balance," as he stated.

The final applause suffered a bit from some breathlessness among the guests.

---

Soon afterwards, the clock told them that it was time to welcome the new year. Like the others, Harry did so with champagne. Unlike the others, he was kissed by Cho.

Someone asked him about his good intentions for the new year, raising a chuckle in Harry's mind. How would that man have looked, hearing the answer, "To kill Voldemort"?

After some more glasses, the other guests left, the first couple giving the signal for the rest of them. Harry wanted to leave, too - more precisely, he didn't want to be around until the last dog was hung, didn't want to ask for the limousine directly, after all, it wasn't his own, wasn't a cab either.

His glances earned him a clear wink to stay still for a while, from Cho as well as from Mrs Chang.

Mr Chang returned from his goodbye to the last guests, save one. He smiled. "Harry, your performance has won me great face. I hope I can deal with this obligation in a very Zen-like style" - he smiled more - "which of course means inviting you again, doing it at another occasion."

Harry bowed. "I feel privileged, Mr Chang - even more as not all of your guests could appreciate the presentation equally pleased."

Mr Chang demonstrated the fine art of silent questions.

"I hope I understand it right, and this was a little test, since I have no intention to contradict you, sir, but - one of your guests was undeniably a wizard."

All smile faded from Mr Chang's face.

Harry's eyes widened - also undeniably, this was shocking news to his host.

Mrs Chang asked, "Which one, Harry?"

He looked at her, looked back to Mr Chang. "I'm deeply sorry, sir - I thought you knew, and wanted me to find out. It was the one sitting over there - I don't remember his name, the one with the sandy hair - "

"Millar. Graham Millar."

"Yes, I think so. He drank only a sip of champagne, was very careful with drinks."

Mr Chang nodded, his face stony. "Of course you're sure, Harry." It was one of these questions without a question mark at the end - not quite as elegant as other samples Harry had heard from Cho's father, understandably so, in this awkward situation.

"Yes, sir. I had a feeling from the beginning, from my - er, haragei, because he felt like hidden under a cloak. And then - when I spoke with Nagini for the first time, he couldn't control his surprise for a short instant, while I was prepared and used it as a test. Well, and then of course I asked Nagini, and she confirmed it beyond any doubt."

Mr Chang exhaled. "Yes ... Please excuse me for a moment." He left the room.

Cho watched him leave, turned to her mother. "Uh-oh."

Mrs Chang looked at Harry. "A cuckoo's egg - if you'll pardon the expression, Harry. And you've found it."

Cho's face was shining. "He and his snake."

A thought struck Harry, a very disquieting one. "Mrs Chang, please forgive my curiosity, but I have a reason for my question. How long has this man been an - um, business partner, or guest in this house?"

"Less than a year; it was building up slowly." Mrs Chang looked at Harry, waiting for his explanation.

Harry looked at Cho, then back at her mother. "As weird as it sounds, I'd have liked to hear of a longer period, or something about confidential business. Either of them would have confirmed that my thought is - "

Cho was at him. "Harry - what is it? In plain English."

His eyes met hers. "You, I'm afraid."

---

What followed was a very Chinese ceremony, although a highly unusual one. Mrs Chang was up, bowed to Harry, excused herself, left the room after a wink to her daughter, with Harry suddenly alone in this splendid room.

However, his mind couldn't find the calm state for admiring the decoration. His mind was busy with an evil planning, and with an attempt to come up with a counter strike. No defense, he'd learned, was good unless combined with a cutting in return.

Mrs Chang came back, trailed by her daughter. There was a fire glowing in Mrs Chang's eyes. "Harry - the gods were merciful, sending you to us, and our daughter."

He bowed. "I think so, too, Mrs Chang - for quite some time."

She smiled. "Chinese tradition meets an English wizard with Japanese skill - this requires a French tradition." And then she planted a light kiss at his left cheek, another at his right, watched by her daughter who looked delighted, and very much in love with the two of them, still more when she saw him blush.

Mrs Chang left the room again, leaving him alone with Cho, thereby breaking traditions even more than a moment before, or when she had left him sitting alone in the room.

She came back with her husband. Mr Chang asked, "Assuming you're right, Harry - what would be your next step?"

He had prepared for this question in the last minutes. "Sir, I'd think the blow is parried, and according to my sensei, this should be the moment of a counter blow. Only I cannot think of any, and just the thought of Cho used as a bait is enough to make me ..."

Cho's eyes were a bit glaring. "Oh - all of a sudden?"

He held the stare. "No - not all of a sudden."

Mr Chang said, "We have time to think it over, and to do a very careful planning - thanks to you, Harry."

Harry bowed. "I'm also the one to blame in the beginning, sir."

Only Mr Chang's eyes smiled when he answered, "What's the sense in blaming karma?"

Then Harry made some movements as if ready to leave, and Mr Chang went out to get things prepared. He was back pretty quickly, walked to Harry and bowed, astonishingly deep.

"I'm awfully sorry - please excuse this deep embarrassment. My chauffeur has celebrated New Year too much; he's - er, not operative, so to speak ..."

Harry shot up, bowed back. "This isn't a problem at all, sir - I'll use the Knight Bus, it'll be here in no time."

"No, Harry - I can't tolerate this. Please accept our guest room for the night - tomorrow, it will work, and it gives us the pleasure of your company for breakfast."

Harry bowed. "Yes, sir."

Guest room was an understatement - suite was more appropriate, connected to the main part of the house by a corridor with walls of glass, offering a view to the last fireworks over the city.

Harry was lying under the blanket, still wide awake, reminded of another suite with a double bed and luxury equipment, when he heard a faint noise from the door.

Cho came closer.

What he could see in the light from outside was some kind of night kimono, very appealing, apparently quite thin, more than inviting to touch it, open it ...

Except that he felt frozen.

He saw her smile. "Scared, Harry?" A hand stroked his hair, then reached under the blanket.

"Cho - not here. Please - "

"Why not? You've been challenged all evening, and now - isn't this the ultimate challenge?"

Indeed - under this roof, and him unable to drop the thought that any moment the door might open again.

Cho saw her prey at risk. "Sorry. To ease your mind - er, to fill it with another thrill, I have to tell you a bit about Chinese ethics, although I'm surprised you didn't find out by yourself - it's not that different from Japanese ones."

"Is it? Maybe I'm a bit preoccupied right now."

"Yes, my knight, and to turn your preoccupation in the right direction, let me explain. You've uncovered this wizard mole, and it should be clear to you that this was a great loss of face to my father."

Harry found his mental balance. "I wasn't aware, because ... Yes, you're right."

"So even if this doesn't establish an ob, which doesn't mean it doesn't - erm, my skill of expression seems to suffer, somehow ... anyway, he had to find something to express this, or acknowledge it with you acknowledging too - at something else ... Still with me?"

Considering her hand, she was more with him. "Yes."

"So he came with this story about his chauffeur. You didn't believe a word, did you?"

"Well, erm ..."

Cho laughed. "Harry, my father doesn't employ a chauffeur who isn't ready to drive a guest back home ... He's cold-sober, this is just a fake loss of face." Her smile deepened. "But, just by coincidence, the effect is that you have to stay here. You might think this fake story was the only thing he could find at such a short notice, but think twice ... he's very skilled in such manoeuvers."

Harry had no doubt, but ... "You think your own father - "

"Not as blunt as that, it's more - and still some kind of challenge, naturally so. But don't forget - in Chinese culture, daughters are just something to trade with. He's Western enough to treat me differently, and nice enough to remember this Chinese habit just in time."

Thinking it over, Harry knew - every word was true, although maybe not right. "And your mother?"

Cho was under the blanket, shifting him toward a colder stripe, although not too far away, just enough to leave room for hands between two bodies.

"Ooh - we don't discuss such matters in clear words, but - after all, I'm her daughter ... and guess who gave me this little nothing as a Christmas present?"

It was slightly more than nothing, and Harry had found the mood to diminish the difference between almost nothing and truly nothing.

After a moment, he pushed the blanket aside, in favour of more space and - more importantly - a better view of this magnificent unwrapping.

Although the room wasn't too warm yet, Cho didn't object. So the truly nothing was heating better than the combination of almost nothing plus blanket. Even so, this could hardly be rated as a Zen riddle, and maybe the unwrapping had to do with it.

* * *

When Harry came to the breakfast table next morning, he found only Cho and her mother. Cho greeted him lightly, Mrs Chang greeted him warmly, Mr Chang was nowhere seen - an elegant manoeuver, as Harry had to admit.

Even so, it could have been an embarrassing situation - if not for the fact that he, after coming to rest the night before, had used a relaxed and fully operative mind to think something over. He turned to Cho. "Where's your father?"

Cho looked surprised about the question. Before she could answer, Mrs Chang said, "He excuses himself, Harry - probably it has to do with what you've uncovered last night."

Harry admired the message under the message in this answer - nonetheless, his mind was set on something more important.

"I've thought about it, Mrs Chang. There's something I'd like to discuss with him. If not today, then I hope we can find another time soon."

Mrs Chang looked at him, examining his face. Cho looked at him, trying to figure out what was on his mind. Mrs Chang walked out.

Harry was about to finish his breakfast when Mr Chang came in. Wherever he had been, he'd found a short cut back into this room. "Good morning, Harry."

"Good morning, sir. I'm glad we have this opportunity to talk, because there is something I know but don't understand, and I believe you can show me where I miss the point."

"With wizards? That would be interesting, Harry - I'm a Muggle and a merchant."

"Exactly, sir. It has to do with trade and business."

He saw the understanding come up in Cho's face, while her father asked, "What business, Harry?"

"It's about Magical Tours, sir." Harry told the story of his accident in London Linkport, the agreement with the port manager, the disappearing owls, and the flight of the two owls and the two Steel Wings.

At this point, Mr Chang interrupted him, after having listened silently before. "You have a very special way to recommend yourself as a son-in-law, Harry."

Harry bowed. "To be honest, sir - I'd never dreamed of telling you these details, only - I realized that you must know before it makes sense to ask you the questions I have."

"It's a fascinating story - please continue."

Harry described the scene at the Magical Tours headquarters, keeping a bit vague about the life insurance Belinda McGraw had fabricated.

Mr Chang smiled thinly. "And since then, owl mail is as reliable as before."

"Yes, sir - even after the accident that followed. It was an accident in their headquarters, and it killed this Gallagher and the three clerks from the Hogsmeade office - exactly those people who'd been in contact with us."

The smile was gone from Mr Chang's face. "And - this police woman?"

"Was found dead a day later - at the entrance to an owl shop."

Mr Chang was silent for a moment. "I appreciate this information, Harry - it leaves no doubt about the seriousness of the other side, and their intentions. Now what are your questions?"

"Sir - what is so attractive at Magical Tours to make it an instrument in Voldemort's planning?"

---

Mr Chang nodded as if confirming a thought that had crossed his mind before, yet still took his time before answering.

"On the surface," he said eventually, "there's an obvious goal, a very simple one, the same as for any other enterprise: to make profit, that means to make money. And I take it this company is making a lot of money."

"Probably so. They seem quite busy, and the amount of portkey mail is growing."

"They found a method of speeding up their business growth, and then you found out, and stopped it - but even so, the growth is considerable. People still remember that there was a time when owls didn't arrive - which shows you how efficient this strategy is even after you've stopped the direct manipulation."

"Sir, just between these four walls - if I saw any reason, or benefit, I wouldn't mind travelling around and blowing linkports to pieces - only, I just can't see what's wrong with these services."

Mr Chang grinned. "Then maybe I shouldn't continue explaining to you, Harry - after all, who wants a criminal in the family?"

Harry blushed. "I'm sorry, sir - what I meant was I can't see how it would bring us a step further toward Voldemort."

"Even after you have your answer, I don't think it would help much when running around as a kind of linkport bomber - although I've little doubt you'd be up to the task."

Harry blushed again.

"Coming to Voldemort ... His ultimate goal is to rule the world - the wizarding world. Would you agree to that, Harry?"

"Definitely, sir."

"He tried brute force - and failed. He tried terror and open field battle, and failed again. The idea of him running for a political leader is ridiculous - aside from the fact that he could be leader in just one country ... So he makes his new attempt in business and trade."

It sounded logical - still, Harry couldn't see the picture yet. He asked, "But how can he hope to rule the world with that, sir?"

"What does it mean, ruling the world? It can't mean someone who's dictating everybody's daily life. It can only mean gaining a key position, a position from which you can push your own ideas through, typically by threatening to strangle an essential nerve if people don't agree with your ideas."

"And Magical Tours could be such a nerve?"

"Not yet, but this is a long-term strategy. When looking at the Muggle world, Harry, you see several key industries. If any of them would be in the hands of just one person, or company, they could dictate their prices and conditions at leisure. This is nothing new, and countries have developed protection mechanisms, for example, laws against monopolies, or at least against the misuse of monopolies. By and large, those laws work, although sometimes it takes years until people realize that someone is trying the old game again. And now look at the wizarding world."

Harry tried to see his world from a new perspective.

"Basically," said Mr Chang, "this world is split into many small societies, using techniques which are very magical but, often enough, very inefficient, compared to modern standards. I hope you forgive me this blunt statement, Harry."

"You're totally right, sir; Ron would agree even more."

"So, basically, this world is badly suited for someone who wants to hold its throat in a tight grip - the best Voldemort could achieve was a tight grip at the throat of Great Britain - forgive me again, but that's not exactly an impressive position, compared to a worldwide view. To score better, first he has to establish global structures - and now look at your Magical Tours again."

It wasn't his, while otherwise, Harry felt thunderstruck.

"This company is growing faster than the wizarding societies can follow with their laws. At some point, they'll realize that they've made themselves dependent on these key services - travel, communication, and that they have to follow orders."

"But only up to a point."

"Certainly - if the company would turn the screw too tight, in the long run it would lose its position. But within a certain range, which isn't that small, they can do what they want, ask what they want ... For someone with acute megalomania like Voldemort, this is a dream come true."

It was Harry's turn to think for a while.

Mr Chang asked, "Does this explanation answer your question, Harry?"

"Yes, sir. I'm thankful for that; I'd never have found out by myself."

"And what are your conclusions?"

Harry grinned. "You're totally right, sir - running around and blowing up linkports is no solution at all ... Otherwise, the situation is the same - finding Voldemort and stopping him. Then, if Magical Tours has come to like the taste of power - that's not my crusade."

"This might change in the future."

"Could be, sir ... Although, for me, this sounds more like a task for Ron."

* * *

Ron and Ginny were still at breakfast when Harry returned to The Burrow, after having used the time in the limousine to think about trade business in the wizarding world. Ron grinned. "It was a long dinner party, wasn't it?"

"No, not really ... People left not too long after midnight."

"People, huh? ... With a notable exception, of course."

"Well - maybe not of course, but - they offered me the guest room, except it was more of a suite than a room."

Ginny looked admiring, and envious.

Ron said, "Guest room - what a pity."

In contrast to her brother, Ginny didn't believe for a second there was any reason for pitying Harry. She asked, "And where was this guest suite?"

"Oh - it's part of the house ... although a separate one."

Only now, it dawned on Ron. He looked incredulous. "Don't tell me - "

"Won't do."

Ginny started to giggle.

Ron still looked incredulous. "You're making this up. I can't imagine - the Changs would let you ... no, they're not that different from the Baillards - or our parents, for that matter."

In a way, Harry had more important things to discuss. So he said, "Listen. First, I'm not making up anything. Second, I hope you know that Janine could stay overnight here any time - provided you'd get used to the fact that people in the other rooms - "

"Here? What makes you think so?"

"I don't think so, I know. Ma Weasley was quite clear in this regard."

"Bloody Baron ..." Ron looked thunderstruck, and admiringly, at Harry.

Harry turned to Ginny. "It might be slightly different with daughters, but then, we didn't intensify this topic. Anyway, something happened, and that's why I had to stay overnight, and that's why we have to discuss something."

"We?" Ron glanced at his sister.

Harry had found his decision already in the limousine. "We ... only I'd prefer my room for that."

What followed was a little charade in which Harry informed Ginny about all details of the encounters with Magical Tours, after he'd found a moment alone with her to indicate that the topic Sirius was off limits.

Ginny listened, did what she could to look astonished at the proper times. She wasn't too convincing; however, Ron didn't notice while waiting impatiently for the part that was new to him.

"Yesterday evening," said Harry, "all other guests were announced as Muggles. But one of them was a wizard, and Mr Chang didn't know."

"Wow!"

"Yes ... This was of course much loss of face for him - toward me, I mean, so he had to do something that would be the official loss of face. What he came up with was a story his driver was drunk and couldn't drive me home - so much for the background. Now - "

Ginny asked, "This face mechanism - was it clear to you all the time while it happened?"

"Not at the first moment, no. Cho had to explain it to me."

"Oh, did she? When?"

Harry looked at his grinning sister. "Save it - there's something more important. This wizard was probably planted with Cho as the target."

"Cho?" Almost unison, from Ron and Ginny.

Harry inhaled deeply. "There's something you don't know. It was Marie-Christine who uncovered it, and if any proof was missing, I think this wizard gave it."

Ginny looked suddenly very attentive.

Harry explained Voldemort's plot as predicted by Marie-Christine, and why Cho's role was even more essential than his own.

"Oh my God - what a horrible thought!" Ginny stared at him with deep concern. "Now I can - " she interrupted herself, unnoticed by Ron who was still struggling with the news.

"That's just for the background. Oh, before I forget - " Harry added the missing details of his second visit in the Magical Tours headquarters, about the jump artist and his performance.

Ron said, "You should contact Sirius, even if - "

"Later - first we have to do something else. During breakfast, I asked Mr Chang for an explanation why Magical Tours could be so attractive for Voldemort ..." Harry summarized Mr Chang's interpretation. This time, Ron was most attentive, smiling at the end when Harry described the prospect of Ron's own crusade.

---

"Now you're up-to-date," finished Harry. "And now to my idea. We have to find out more about Magical Tours."

Ron nodded. "Sure. And how?"

Harry looked at him, at Ginny, grinned. "As Hermione tells us twice a week - you just don't see the obvious."

Ginny looked expressionless. "Except sometimes."

"Huh?" Ron looked at his sister, ignored her remark. "So what's the obvious?"

"You - or maybe we all - have a brother who runs the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

"Oh no!" Ron looked disgusted.

"Oh yes!"

"Then tell me how to do that! He'll never cooperate, contrary to what his office is supposed to do. And he would ask a thousand questions - "

"I hoped you'd come up with an idea. After all, he's your brother much longer than mine - thank God for middle to large favours."

Ginny laughed. A moment later, her eyes were shining. "I have an idea."

Two faces looked expectantly at her.

"I think we can agree that, without a little blackmailing, we could stop right away ..."

They agreed, no question about that.

"... and I might have something. It's a few years old, but with Percy, it still might work ... It has to do with Penelope."

Ron and Harry stared at each other, more astonished than ever.

Ginny grinned. "It's totally harmless, in particular compared to some other ... well, anyway, for him it would be so embarrassing, I think I can make him jump."

Ron looked interested. "What is it?"

Ginny shook her head. "I promised never to tell - that's exactly the base of the blackmailing ... And besides, for you two, it's pretty much boring."

Ron turned to Harry, grinning. "Such high praise from a younger sister."

Harry's grin was a little thin.

They discussed details, for this attack which had to take place the next day, the first working day after New Year and also the last day of vacation. It was Ron who found the nice rounding-up of their strategy. "Blackmailing alone is too insecure ... I think we should try a combo - first bribing, then blackmailing."

"Bribing? How?"

"Oh - pretty simple ... We come into his office, to deliver our presents to him. Then ..."

"Presents?" Ginny stared. "You have a present for Percy??"

"No, of course not! Not me, not you, not Harry ... And he has none for us - but until we meet him, we'll have something - some nice crap. And then, when he's really embarrassed because he has nothing for us, we ask him, and then comes Ginny with slight hints of whatever ..."

Poor Pompous Percy was perplexed, paralyzed, palpitated by the pandaemonium of two and a half brothers and sisters, palavering in alternate roles whenever he tried to settle back to reality.

Ron. "Now - can we have a look into these files?"

"No - that's impossible! First it ..."

Ginny. "How's Penelope?"

"Penelope??"

Harry. "Please, Percy - you're the only one who can solve this riddle."

For a split second, Percy looked pleased.

Ginny. "I haven't seen her for quite a while ... Has she changed since that time?"

"What time?"

Ginny smiled. "You know what I mean."

Percy looked alarmed.

Ron. "If you could tell your secretary to show us the files while talking with Ginny ..."

Ginny. "Why - it's a nice story, don't you think so, Percy?"

He didn't. He called his secretary, and suddenly they had access to the files - officially with Ron as a messenger from Arthur, while Harry was with him to make sure nobody else would interrupt.

Without the secretary, they would have been lost. The witch only needed a keyword - Magical Tours - to look not surprised at all, to open the cabinet, to have the files ready with one grip. Obviously, someone else had asked for them not long ago, and it would have been interesting to know who it was. Only this question seemed too dangerous, and maybe it had been Sirius.

Magical Tours, as they learned, was a company owned by a company, owned by another company. This was the deepest level to which ownership had to be recorded in the Ministry files.

Amalgamated Entertainments was the sole owner, a company located in Nassau, Bahamas. This mother company, in turn, was owned by two major stockholders. The first of them was Amalgamated Enterprises, also residing in Nassau, Bahamas, and the other was East-West Funds and Trust Bank, to be found in Hong Kong.

Storming the next post office, Harry sent a short message to the Chang house, announcing new information and the hope Mr Chang might find the time for a few minutes in London Linkport.

He waited in the cafeteria - alone, his luggage including Nagini left with Ron and Ginny. Mr Chang arrived together with his daughter, was left alone with Harry after Cho had delivered a welcome kiss.

"Sir," said Harry, "I've got information about the company owners. It doesn't tell me anything, but you might know more about them."

"Could be, Harry. Who's in the background?"

"Direct and sole owner is Amalgamated Entertainments, which in turn is owned by Amalgamated Enterprises and the East-West Funds and Trust Bank. The companies reside in Nassau, Bahamas, while the bank - "

"I know them." Mr Chang smiled thinly. "Well - that's exactly what we should have expected. In terms of business, Harry, there are two swamps like no others - Hong Kong and the Bahamas, or maybe the other way around. Anyway - leave this track to me; if there's anything to learn, I'll find it."

"Certainly, sir." Harry hesitated. "Some news about Mr Millar?"

The scarce smile faded. "He isn't around since yesterday ... which is very wise of him."

"Maybe not, sir. Voldemort has a nasty way to handle losers."

"That's what I heard, Harry. Still - the alternative would be to expose himself to the other end. From this perspective, Voldemort might be preferable."

It didn't look as if he was joking, this Mr Chang, who was Cho's father and the other end of Mr Millar's death trap.