Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

Sirius' event for his rescuers was the first real party in Harry's life, different from anything he had seen so far. Not a ball, no dinner party either - this was a party, and there were some guests who made sure it was.

Sirius' colleagues, for example. When the Potter-Weasley gang arrived from The Burrow, together with the Krum-Granger mini gang, they were already there - Tommy and Brenda Sullivan, a couple somewhere around thirty, and another couple who were clearly past fifty. Sirius introduced. "Harry, Cho - this is Curry, the fossil of the Squad."

Curry?

The man had developed a pair of cop's eyes. Still, they hadn't forgotten how to smile.

"Harry, I was looking forward to seeing you again. We'll certainly find time to talk." This said, Curry turned to Cho. "You look gorgeous, exactly as Sirius has promised. Let's have a drink." He moved away with her.

A quick and clean manoeuver. Harry was still trying to figure out what kind of name that was, when Mrs Curry came into his view.

"Hello, Harry," she said, "I'm Laureen."

Registering Harry's blank look, Laureen explained. "Curry's his nickname in the Squad. He has a preference for spicy food, that's why. In civilian life, he'd be called Derek Wylie, except he has no civilian life ..." The woman laughed, seeing Harry's glance following the two. "But he's civilized - more or less."

"Er - yes, er, Laureen ... This is all quite new to me, I've never been to a party."

The woman grinned. "Squad parties are famous. They have a tendency for running a bit wild ... But I guess this evening's mix will keep it within bounds."

It would be interesting to know whether she considered this an improvement or a lack of spirit. Also, Harry wondered what Laureen meant with a bit wild.

They reached the bar.

"Harry," she said, "believe a party veteran and get your shot of booze now, and then make sure to hold that level, no more, while certainly no less. You'll have more fun." Laureen took his glass of orange juice, grabbed a bottle with a clear liquid, and added a solid quantity. "Try this - the best method to scale up or down."

Harry sniffed. All he could smell - there was alcohol, without any particular scent. "What's this?"

"Vodka - pure, simple, efficient."

He tasted. It was still orange juice, with a totally new spirit.

The Hogwarts fraction arrived. A moment later, Curry Wylie heard Harry addressing Lupin with "Prof", and saw reason to cut in. "Hey, stop that crap! This is a party - no titles, no ranks, no Misters."

Harry looked at Lupin. "Moony?"

Lupin smiled. "No longer, as you know. Remus."

Lupin - no, Remus - was the simple case. The other - Snape - had a sparkling in his eyes. "This isn't Hogwarts, Harry. I'm sure you'll manage."

"Yes - er, Severus."

Hermione had less trouble with this name. And Severus was her choice when adapting to what seemed a standard for parties - grabbing someone's partner, at least someone other than the own partner, and finding a place to talk.

Only with Kenzo, Harry had no intention of using anything other than sensei. Either Curry was unaware of this title, or he knew too well; at least, he didn't object.

Aside from the style of conversation, Harry registered still another significant difference between balls and parties: the women's dresses. Not all of them were short, but with the exception of Laureen's, they saved fabric wherever possible. And some of them were really short - Janine's, for example.

Ginny's, for another example.

Harry met Cho, just long enough for a short exchange of opinions. She looked at his glass. "That's a mistake, Harry. Everybody'll have fun, only you'll hang around, cold-sober."

He held the glass, grinning. "Try."

She did. "Wow - that's heavy. How did you - "

"Laureen."

Cho grinned. "Of course - of all ages represented here, your choice is - "

Haryy interrupted her on purpose, in time, and with the proper remark. "Say hello to Curry."

Cho nodded and left.

---

And there was still another difference: the women didn't wait for something like Ladies' choice. Calling a partner for a dance was one method, simply grabbing was another. Deborah's method was a combination. "That's our music, Harry."

Hearing the song, very popular in the current charts, Harry felt some surprise about Sirius' collection.

Deborah grinned. "No, he wasn't up-to-date, not at all, but with the help from a colleague in the music department, and with a generous cheque, we could close the gap."

"It's good to see how the various gaps in Sirius' life are going to be closed."

"Oh - it's not unbalanced, Harry, not at all." Deborah smiled roguishly. "Although I still don't know what Hippogriff means."

"Really?"

"Well - maybe I never find the time to ask."

Harry managed not to giggle, a reminder that it was time to use a bit more orange juice per glass. "You may ask Hermione - she was involved as much as Sirius and I."

Deborah glanced into the corner where Hermione was sitting. "Seems as if Paul might find out quicker."

Sirius' well-balanced invitation list worked nicely, although not quite in the order as written on paper. Hermione sat deeply in conversation with Paul, Viktor with Jessica, Snape - er, Severus with Laureen, and so forth. Harry saw only two couples keeping the nominal order, if this was the right term, Ron and Janine being the first of them, Ginny and Kenzo the other.

The noise level was remarkable. Infected from so many reminders of Hogwarts, and certainly from a number of drinks, Curry and Tommy started to fall back to the habits of fifth-years. Harry's present had been a tricky collection from Swashbuckle Sweets, and Curry was roaring in laughter while Tommy produced bubble speech.

Other people were infected, too, if not from Hogwarts memories then from drinks. Deborah went down into the basement to get more bottles.

Sirius saw it and grinned at Lupin - no, Remus. "I think she'll need help." With a soft pop, the air closed into the space where, an instant before, Sirius' body had been. To shorten the procedure, he had used apparition.

Harry had sensed it, had decided to contribute with his own joke, to scare Sirius - and maybe to speed up the refill. Without thinking, he synchronized with Sirius' impulse and followed.

A cellar, well illuminated. A figure in front of him, putting arms around another one who squeaked.

Sirius asked, "Did I scare you?"

Before Deborah could answer, Harry asked. "Do I scare you?"

Another squeak, and a choked sound from Sirius, who spun around. "Harry! Damn you - how did you ..."

Sirius was staring wide-eyed. Deborah was staring wide-eyed - both at the same spot.

Harry stared wide-eyed - at his arms, his legs, his body.

"Yipee - I did it! I did it!" He was almost dancing, stopped next moment when Sirius' fist hit him in the ribs.

"Ouch! Stop it - it's the first time I managed." He explained how he had followed, and that his own surprise was at least as big as that of the other two down here.

Deborah put bottles in his hands. "Here - take them. I'm still too shaky, thanks to you!"

Coming up, this time using the stairs, Harry was greeted with laughter and excitement - except from Cho, who looked very upset. "Harry, you ... you scared me like hell."

Just Harry, that was a bad sign.

"Sorry - I didn't expect to disappear. It never worked before."

Snape - Severus came over, smiling broadly. "That's the solution, Harry. You've always been too sober, until now." He looked challenging. "Wanna give it another try?"

"Where to?"

"Just in the garden."

"Okay. Jump."

A moment later, Harry stood in the dark garden, touching his arms to make sure he had followed with his body. And still a moment later, he was back inside.

Almyra came closer. "What did you do differently, Harry?"

"Beats me ... I'd like to know."

Kenzo said, "It was Zen."

"Huh?"

"You've laughed the difference away, Ha-ri."

Harry still didn't understand.

"It was a joke. Sure, you wanted to scare Sirius, or catch them while - er, getting bottles. But you didn't give a damn, generally speaking, so you were relaxed enough to do it right. And now it works - probably also when you've sobered up ... Another try?"

"Where to?"

Kenzo smiled. "Surprise, Ha-ri."

"Erm - okay."

There was a moment like an eternity in nowhere, then Harry looked at the train platform near Hogsmeade. He turned to Kenzo.

"Wow! Although - how stupid would it look if I couldn't follow back."

"Who told you I'd jump back?"

Into the terrible instant of cold surprise, Harry felt the signal come, rise, and followed.

They were in Sirius' garden - Kenzo's target for safety reasons, apparating into a room of eighteen more or less drunken party guests wasn't exactly his cup of tea. Kenzo smiled. "A little stress test, Ha-ri. Very good."

Inside, Curry Wylie pumped Harry's arm up and down. "Bloody excellent, Harry - you're our man. So when can we expect you in the Squad?"

Sirius stepped in. "Not before the end of next year."

Curry bent closer and whispered in Harry's ear, unfortunately loudly enough for half of the room to hear, "Although I have to admit - we're supposed to catch them alive, Harry." Next instant, he was hurrying away as Brenda and Deborah were both trying to hit him in the ribs.

Cho watched the spectacle, then looked at Harry. "Your new bodyguards?"

Wise enough not to reply, Harry sat down, beaming madly. He could pursue! The thought filled him with deep satisfaction.

* * *

The excitement faded, in him as well as in the other people, and the party drifted into the phase with dim light, slow music, slow-moving dancers, closely together, and low-talking groups. And little by little, the grouping resembled pretty much that on Sirius' list.

Tommy and Brenda said good-night and left. Curry and Laureen followed. Remus and Almyra followed, then Ron and Janine. Jessica stood up to say goodbye, then accepted Severus' offer to escort her home. Paul and Ellen had intended to leave at the same time, but decided to wait for the next pass of the Knight Bus.

Kenzo stood up to leave, and agreed to escort Ginny home.

Hermione and Viktor said good-night. Their way was the shortest - just upstairs into Sirius' only guest room. With respect to The Burrow being so close, it hadn't been a question who was getting this privilege.

Cho was fighting sleep, and another problem. "Less' go, Harry."

Which meant, to The Burrow - the place toward which Ron and Janine had left not so long ago, reason enough for Harry to answer, "In a few minutes."

"No - less' go now."

"If we go now, we've to wait until - er, the bathroom's free."

"Oh - yes'f cours'."

Deborah showed amusement, more about Harry's argument than about Cho's state. Sirius joined them for a last glass, which, in Harry's case, held orange juice pure.

Harry raised the glass. "To a super party - cheers."

"Thanks. To our newest pursuer - cheers."

"Thanks. Now we only have to find him." Harry looked from Sirius to Deborah. "Any new tracks?"

Deborah answered. "One - Wesley Warrington has a very nice vacation home on the Bahamas." It earned her an angry look from Sirius.

Harry saw it. "Don't worry; not my business. But maybe Mr Chang can add some information - he's scanning in the high finance level."

Deborah found this a good idea and asked Harry for something that would identify her as a trustworthy person to Mr Chang.

Maybe his look toward Cho, almost asleep, gave Harry the association. "Okay - a keyword: Drunken Driver."

Deborah smiled, then dropped her smile. Apparently, she had remembered the Rita Skeeter case, which officially was still a hit-and-run. At least, she had no idea what the keyword meant.

Harry said good-night, for himself as well as for Cho, then grabbed her, more carrying than guiding, and flagged the Knight Bus down.

In The Burrow, everything was silent. Considering the time in advance, it was not unlikely that even Ron and Janine were already asleep.

In his room, Cho looked at him. "I'm deeply sorry, and I hate it to say, but - I drank too much. Even with your skill, Harry, tonight it's a hopeless case."

This came as no surprise to him. Harry started to giggle.

Cho looked quite embarrassed. "Don't ... It's shameful enough, and a real pity."

He kissed her. "Never mind, in particular because, you know, nobody will believe it."

It wasn't exactly helpful to ease her embarrassment, quite the opposite.

* * *

At the beginning of the school year, Harry would have thought it impossible, while now, close to the First of May, he really felt reluctant to join the Durmstrang ball. With so many events in such a short time, suddenly a quiet weekend in Hogwarts seemed very attractive.

Of course, this was just one reason, and not the most valid one. More important seemed his severely troubled memory of ball evenings. The keyword ball was enough for him to see - with eyes closed - the scene again.

There were also some unspoken reasons. Provided they would go, he and Cho would reach Durmstrang through the link gate, and at the end of the evening, they would return to Hogwarts, each of them returning to the respective dormitory: not the most appealing end of a ball.

And - without admitting to anyone, not even Cho - Harry had another reason. Marie-Christine would not be there.

He knew that Cho wanted to join the ball. He also knew that she would accept his decision, would not insist. But Hermione insisted.

"You can't do that, Harry. This is Durmstrang, Viktor's old school. He'll never tell you, but he would be disappointed if you and Cho weren't coming - that's why I'm telling you."

"Yeah, sure ..."

"I know - I mean, I can imagine why a ball evening's currently not the most promising thought for you" - Hermione looked pointedly - "in particular this one, far away - erm, in Bulgaria. But you have to return to normalcy, Harry." Again, her eyes made clear that she could see more than one meaning in that.

"And," she added, "you would sit at the teacher's table - simply because you've held these seminars for Drilencu." Suddenly, Hermione looked pleading rather than challenging. "Do you know how long it's been since we've sat together at a ball?"

It was the argument which settled the issue.

And so it happened that Harry and Cho were sitting side by side in Durmstrang, Viktor and Hermione to their left, Remus and Almyra to their right. Yes, Remus - outside Hogwarts, both considered it awkward to continue with Prof. With an inward grin, Harry realized that this codex would hold a year longer than some other.

As much as Beauxbatons emphasized a big city flair, Durmstrang kept to a rural style. Harry saw a lot of wood, covered with artful carving. The ceiling was nowhere as high as in Hogwarts or Beauxbatons, you could see it clearly - of course covered with carved wood. Also the music - the band played some popular chart hits, while most songs were folk music of the Bulgarian kind - pretty strange in the ears of the common northwesterner, unless you knew even stranger rhythms - American Indians, for example.

American Indian music wasn't played. Harry's dance formation had not been invited, to the limited disappointment of some eleven-year-olds, and the unlimited disappointment of a certain Ravenclaw student.

Soon, Harry recognized why. These Bulgarians had a lot of local dances, presented formations of their own, and played music to let the students and teachers dance. Polka, for example - not quite Bulgarian, however from the neighbourhood, anyway not part of Harry's repertoire because Polka wasn't taught by Fleur.

And Fleur wasn't around to show him. The preparations for the wedding, scheduled for Pentecost, kept her busy all the time.

Hermione grabbed him. "C'mon, Harry - if you know quickstep, then polka is a piece of cake." And she whirled him around, while Viktor did the same with Cho.

Dances from the neighbourhood seemed a habit of the band. The next was sirtaki, a Greek dance, originally only for men, although here in Durmstrang this rule was not kept. The steps were simple, boringly so, as it seemed - at the beginning, when the music still was slow. Then it accelerated.

Then it accelerated more.

Then it ran incredibly fast.

Thanks to his extensive aikido training, and to his perfect sense of balance, Harry turned out the only foreigner who mastered keeping the pace through the final, at his sides only Durmstrang students left, probably all of them Greeks. It earned him a loud applause.

---

Next came kazachoc, a Russian dance, also intended for men only and - in contrast to sirtaki - kept that way. After the first steps, Harry knew why - for sure it would have looked spectular if the girls had thrown their legs that high, while certainly not decent.

If he had thought sirtaki was stressful, kazachoc told him what stressful really meant. Soon, he stopped, watching the few dancers who continued, among them Viktor.

Starting slow and finishing wild, this seemed the hallmark of all dances here. Csardas came next, for a change danced by several pairs together in a circle, with simple movements, which was good because, toward the end, it was no longer simple.

And, of course, Vienna waltz - considerably more than what could be heard at a Hogwarts ball, even more than in Beauxbatons, where it was called musette waltz.

A waltz was it also when the singer announced "Ladies' choice." Harry watched as Cho spurted toward Drilencu, then glanced up because Professor Trelawney was standing in front of him. "Mr Potter," the witch said, "may I have this dance?"

She wasn't quite as tall as he had expected. After a moment, he became aware that his picture of her, from years ago, was somewhat outdated, simply because he had gained height since then.

"How's life without Divination, Mr Potter?"

Harry grinned. "Very surprising, Prof ... And how's Divination without the Weasley-Potter gang?"

"Sometimes a bit boring - but only in classes." The witch smiled. "As you know perfectly well, there's a lot of mud and occasionally a clear view - while with only true believers around, of course everybody claims to be successful all the time."

He laughed. "I'd never guessed."

"But as I said, every now and then, you catch a glance. It won't surprise you to hear that you're still my most fascinating study object, Mr Potter; there's nobody who's bending the odds as much as you do."

When in doubt, ask. "And - did you have a clear view recently?"

"Maybe ... You were travelling a lot recently, and you had company."

Harry stared at her. Did Trelawney know that he'd mastered apparition pursuit? It wasn't impossible, although unlikely.

"You'll travel more, Mr Potter - and for what I saw, your company at some of these travels isn't agreeable, not at all."

Harry felt his neck hair rising.

Trelawney had lost her smile. "It wasn't very clear - too many possibilities, not surprisingly so. At any rate, Mr Potter, make sure you'll be travelling with your snake."

"Nagini?"

"Yes, right, that's her name, I didn't remember. She's going to play a key role, so much I can tell." Trelawney forced her smile back. "But let's concentrate on dancing - these travels won't happen in the next days."

Harry was very thoughtful after he had escorted the witch back to her place. True, she had missed the point ever so often - but rarely the event. Well - if the solution meant travelling with Nagini, there was no need to worry.

Returning to Hogwarts, he escorted Cho to Ravenclaw Tower. This alone contributed more to a feeling of normalcy than the entire evening in Durmstrang. After saying each other good night, which took its time, Cho looked up. "Now let's be good students and go to bed."

"Excellent idea. Where?"

She laughed. "Don't remind me ... Anyway, Pentecost isn't too far away."

"Three weeks!"

"Well - use the time for hard work, cold showers ..."

"Hot water tub and steam room ..."

Cho nodded. "And nothing else." Turned, and disappeared upstairs.

* * *

In these three weeks, Harry kept pestering everybody who could apparate, asking for a chance to pursue them. Of course, a jump of hundred yards was no longer his goal - this, in combination with the need for a long walk to leave the protected zone around Hogwarts was the reason that he found few ears ready to listen.

At the Ravenclaw table, he asked Cho. "How's your apparition?"

"Sorry - still a long way to go."

Almyra grinned. "I wonder if it's really apparition you're after, Harry."

"Of course not - pursuit!"

Almyra grinned broader. "That's what I thought, although it's more commonly known under different - "

"How's your apparition?"

Suddenly, Cho had a glaring look in her face.

Almyra saw it. "Sorry - no license yet."

It confirmed what Harry had expected - Almyra could apparate, and for quite a while already, as he suspected. He turned back to Cho.

"How come you're so slow with that?"

"Stop bullying me! And all just because - " Cho stopped.

Almyra smiled sweetly. "Because?"

"Ask him - no, for God's sake, don't ask him; he really might answer."

Almyra smiled at Harry. "In the mood for a walk?"

Cho looked trapped. Toward Almyra, Harry said, "Only if you apparate."

"Well ... hmm ..."

Cho's face showed desperation.

Almyra laughed. "Only joking. Look somewhere else, Harry - I've found a better idea, I'll squeeze Cho a bit."

Harry stood up and walked away. Almost being outside the hall, a squeak, followed by a high-pitched sound, made him turn.

Almyra was hanging in her chair, twisted in the worst fit of laughter he'd ever seen with her.

Harry's eyes met Cho's, receiving the unspoken message to get lost - quickly.

For a while, he was similarly unsuccessful in his attempts at getting a look into Fleur's list of wedding presents. This list offered a pile of sheets, each of them specifying a possible present, something that was still missing in the future household, with alternatives up and down the money scale. Whenever Harry asked, this mysterious list wasn't at hand, somewhere else, already given further.

He went to Fleur. "It's very strange, but somehow I never catch that list of yours."

Fleur smiled. "You, the big hunter? 'arry, that's a very poor performance."

"As if they did it on purpose."

Something in Fleur's laughter made him suspicious - maybe it was more his haragei than her laughter. "Do I have to fetch Nagini for this conversation?"

Fleur giggled. "Okay, okay - I'll tell you. You're right; they're forbidden to pass it over to you."

Harry looked perplexed.

"Yes - Bill and I, we found it inappropriate, because your help with the request was so much more - "

"But that's nonsense!" Pleadingly, he said, "Fleur, I can't arrive there, being the only one without a present."

"Don't be silly. Look, 'arry - the list includes all kinds of things for a household - after you found the proper idea for the entire house, it'd be simply ridiculous."

Harry shook his head - to small avail; apparently, this information channel was blocked for him. "Say," he asked, "how did you make sure nobody will give it to me?"

"Very simple - on the cover of the list, there's something like, 'Don't give this to Harry Potter'." Fleur grinned. "And as far as I can see, they all have fun making sure of that."

At least he had solved the riddle. Still, he fell one idea short - what to hold in his hands when arriving there? Harry had no intention of coming with nothing; if it couldn't be something from the list, he had to find out by himself.

Some days later, he knew. It took him a while to prepare, and it took all his skill in meditation and concentration to be ready. Then he went to the person who was required for creating the present.

After hearing what he had in mind, the person looked delighted. "Yes of course - what a wonderful idea - and it gives me the opportunity to see it in advance."

Two hours later, the raw material was available, and Harry's helper promised to have the final thing ready day after tomorrow.

When he arrived two days later, he had the opportunity to watch the final test. At the end, he said, "That's brilliant, Prof, still better than I had expected. Thank you very much - I owe you for that."

The witch smiled. "Okay, Mr Potter. Having an ob on you is not the worst feeling."

* * *

Compared to Fleur and Bill's trouble with their big-scale wedding, Harry's own had to be called a trifle. However, the weekend before, he and Ron and Ginny had to come to The Burrow, to join in a shopping tour for new dresses.

From Harry's own perspective, his ball dress had looked okay, except Ma Weasley had different opinions. And she made sure to be the one who received the bill. No doubt - the name Delacour was drawing a shadow in this issue, too.

In addition, Ma Weasley had a lot of questions about Fleur's parents. Somehow, Arthur and Molly Weasley had never managed to follow any of the informal invitations, and now it was too late. They would meet them at the wedding for the first time.

Ron tried to calm down his mother. "Mum - they're nice, really. Yes, it's a castle, but they're so perfectly normal ..."

Ma Weasley looked at Harry. "What's your comment?"

Harry couldn't resist. "Funny you're asking Ron. He arrived, and there was Janine, and from that moment on, he was lost. I think he wouldn't recognize the Delacours on a picture."

Ron shot him a glance of anger mixed with self-consciousness. "It's not true - I remember them clearly."

Harry grinned. "What's the first name of Fleur's mother?"

"Erm ..."

Ma Weasley had heard enough. "Okay, Harry - you tell me."

"Ron's right, Ma. I know they're happy with Bill, so they'll be happy with you."

Ma Weasely wasn't convinced. "How does she look?"

"Like Fleur, only better."

The admiration in Harry's voice was unmistakable. Both Ron and his mother were looking at him, and Harry realized that his judgement of older women was taken very seriously. Ma Weasley, who had needed new dresses not only because this was the wedding of her oldest son but also because she had lost some pounds, didn't look happy.

Harry took her. "Listen, Ma. Okay, they have a lot of money and a big castle and Madame Delacour is a half-Veela - but they have two children, and you have seven, and that's why she's envying you."

"Really?"

"The other guests were the Baillards, and they've five - you could see it from her looks. Ask Ron - no, don't ask him, he had no time to - "

This time, Ron mustered a counter. "But you can ask Janine, Mum; he's right."

Ma Weasley looked a lot better. "Thank you - both of you."

---

On the Saturday of the wedding, they arrived quite early at the Delacour castle, using the direct route from Hogwarts through Beauxbatons, where Janine joined their group. Fleur had asked for this early time since some helping hands were urgently needed. Harry was scheduled as a broomstick pilot for children - Gabrielle had made sure that even those without such a request by themselves would demand a flight on an Omniair 27 DS.

Monsieur Delacour asked if Harry and Cho had a minute.

Harry nodded, with some fluttering in his stomach. As far as he knew, Delacour was also an old family in France; otherwise, this castle could not be explained. And Cho together with him - what did it mean?

Then he saw Madame Delacour and relaxed; serious talk about some unpleasant story would have been handled by their host alone.

Monsieur Delacour said, "A few hours from now, the Weasley and the Delacour families will be related. From our perspective, it's no question that you, 'arry, are a member of the Weasley family. We are more than happy about that, and for good reason."

Monsieur Delacour looked solemn. "Two years ago, you did the right thing, 'arry - down in a lake. You didn't care about rules, you didn't think twice what other people might say, you just did right. And recently, you've been forced to do something which - for us - fits into the same category, no matter how different it may look to other people. This is one of the reasons, and my wife and I, we wanted to tell you."

Harry swallowed, then bowed. "Thank you. It - it means a lot for me."

"The other reason," now Monsieur Delacour smiled toward Cho, "is this charming young lady - sooner or later, I'll be related to her, too, which is a very pleasurable thought."

Cho's face had been shining before. Now she beamed.

"So it's high time to drop Monsieur and Madame. 'arry, Cho - this is Elienne, and I'm Jean-Baptiste, and now we need some champagne."

It took a moment for four people to kiss cheeks at both sides - much longer than it took to raise a glass and to empty it, as this was a must at such an occasion. At least, Jean-Baptiste had filled the glasses only to half height.

Cho grinned at Harry. "That's number three."

Neither Harry nor the Delacours could follow.

"He's collecting sisters: step-sisters like Ginny, sisters in spirit like Almyra - and now he has a sister-in-law."

Elienne smiled. "And Gabrielle? How does she count?"

"Oh - I'd say here it's the other way around; she has collected him."

They agreed that Cho's description was certainly more to the point than any official term for the sister of a step-sister-in-law. Then Harry went to find his new sister and her groom, because he had to deliver his present. He found them near a gigantic table with a number of boxes that seemed to grow by the minute.

"Fleur, Bill - you made it a bit difficult, but now I'm glad that this list was kept away from me."

Bill looked satisfied. "This would have been the first rule Harry's keeping - other people's rules, I mean."

Fleur examined the box. "Please, 'arry - since we don't have time to open it now, what is it?"

"A spector cassette."

Fleur looked blank, while Bill started to smile; apparently he had an idea.

"You know," explained Harry, "that a spector can record a scene when it's told? Well, this cassette is a collection of scenes. You might call it, 'Fleur - seen from Harry's perspective.' It starts with our first meeting in the Triwizard Tournament - then the scene in the hut, with us waiting for our dragons - then the scene in the lake, then dance lessons ..."

Fleur came forward and hugged him. "What a wonderful idea - and all from your perspective?"

"Yes, sure - that's the only way I could tell."

Fleur flushed. "Oh my God, the first scenes must be horrible, with my comments at that time - "

Harry grinned. "Don't be surprised if I was more impressed by - er, your appearance than by your English."

Bill laughed. "No - it won't surprise me at all."

Harry turned to Bill. "Of course you appear in some scenes, especially in two of them. The first is the day of the Weasley visit, when I watched you watching Fleur. The second is at the Gryffindor table - a conversation between you and Fleur."

Bill beamed. "So this is a document of how Fleur and I met."

Harry grinned. "Maybe so - but only the public part."

Laughing, Fleur and Bill assured that this was exactly the amount they'd like to see recorded on a spector cassette.

* * *

For the rest of the day, Harry experienced a wedding party in which he was truly and deeply involved, at multiple levels, all of them very personal. He was a de facto member of the groom's family. He was a friend of the Delacour family, and still before that small ceremony of this morning, he had felt four individual strings to Jean-Baptiste and Elienne, Fleur and Gabrielle. He was tied in a bond with Goblins, and Goblins appeared as a factor in this wedding.

Bill's best man turned out to be a Goblin - Wynor the Whistler, someone who gave Harry the opportunity to examine a young Goblin, since he knew that Wynor was about Bill's age. The name wasn't explained, and Wynor did not whistle - all Harry could find out was that he had worked with Bill in the times of the Goblin espionnage network.

Wynor wasn't the only Goblin at this wedding, while he raised quite some glances, standing in the church at Bill's side. Not all emotions Harry sensed were pleasant and friendly, but whoever felt irritated by non-humans in the growing and growing number of guests did better to keep silent.

Jean-Baptiste made sure of that, announcing what bride and groom had received from their request for a place to raise children in the spirit of three races - humans, Veela, Goblins. A house in Paris, a magnificent old villa - in the middle of the small Goblin quarter. This had come together with Bill's promotion from Egypt to France - into the Gringotts residence, where he himself, Harry had little doubt, was a customer with a new vault, established together with the villa.

Former and present students and teachers from two schools contributed a lot to the guests. And here again, Harry could watch a purposeful combination. Two flower girls were busy before and after the church ceremony - one of them Gabrielle, the other Rahewa. As Harry learned later that day, Gabrielle had been ordered to select the other girl from Hogwarts, so Rahewa was her natural choice - to the bitter disappointment of Chloé.

Even the Delacour castle was insufficient to hold all guests. Large tents in the park served as the official location for an endless sequence of food and drinks, without any recognizable start or end. This arrangement left the house free for gatherings, conversations, and exchange of gossip to be told in a quiet corner.

For quite a while, Harry could watch the coming and going from a bird's view - serving as one of several pilots on an Omniair 27 DS. He did so with pleasure, more than Ron, certainly more than Cho, who dropped her broomstick after a while in favour of something to eat.

Rahewa offered to join the service Squad - only to realize that parents seemed quite reluctant to let their children mount the second seat on a broomstick under the control of an eleven-year-old.

With a look at the queue of waiting children, Harry agreed with Rahewa to run a twin patrol - at least when starting and landing, with him again and again assuring that yes, this girl was up to the task, and no, his own passenger seat would only be available after Rahewa's.

The parents were still reluctant, only they had no choice - their children made sure of that.

At some time in the afternoon, the queue faded. What the arrival of cakes in the tents hadn't done, Fred and George had managed - with a giant box of sweets. Harry and Rahewa stored their Omniairs away, grateful to see that attractions like vampire teeth ranked higher - maybe only among the children, however theirs were the votes that counted.

Then Bill and Fleur disappeared into their wedding night - more exactly, into the link gate that connected the castle with Paris. They had been wise enough not to tell anyone where they would spend this night - not their new house, this was the only public information. All the popular jokes, which could be played by wizards when the room was known, would be avoided that way.

Harry watched as Fleur threw her flower bouquet into the crowd. Only afterwards, he learned that this was some kind of Divination technique - the girl or woman who caught the bouquet was supposedly the next one to marry. He wondered what Professor Trelawney would think of that. Anyway, the girls he knew had made no efforts to catch the bouquet.

---

Some time later, Jean-Baptiste came to Harry and Cho. "Please, do me a favour," he said. "Play the hosts for us in this tent here. Elienne and I, we want to have a talk with Arthur and Molly - otherwise, the wedding's over and we're still unknown to each other."

Playing the host seemed basically a simple task - more or less the only duty was to stand up, shake hands, smile, and nod to guests leaving. Pretty quickly, Harry lost track of all the names, decided to report just a summary - that all guests had left, sending greetings through him.

However, this time never came. Young people were sitting, talking, drinking deep into the night. They had gathered in one tent - with the twins right in the middle, doing conversation with some girls, in a kind that included some mix of English, French, arms, hands, mouths.

Harry went to them. "Fred, George - you're the hosts now. We're going to - er, retire."

For a moment, George let go of his conversation partner. "Retiring? Tirelessly, I hope."

The girl at his side wanted to know what George had said.

George wanted Harry to translate.

"There's a better idea," replied Harry. "If you don't know the words, explain it to her by some other means."

George promised to do his best, and Harry and Cho walked into the house to find their own guest room. On their way, they passed Max, the big black dog. Recognizing Harry, the dog fell back, to receive a patting and to continue sleeping.

Harry sat down on the bed. "Stressful, such a wedding."

Cho looked at him suspiciously. "You've made the little girls fly all the afternoon - now's the time to make a big girl fly."

"Is it? ... Then wait a second, I'll get me an Omniair."

She came closer. "Don't bother. I know a stick, and some kind of broom - and if it doesn't turn out a two-seater, then maybe a two-layer. Might be even better ..."

She was right.

George wasn't.

* * *

Back in Hogwarts, Harry settled his mind for the final rush toward the end of terms. The wedding had been the last in a chain of social events. According to his knowledge, there was just one major event left to be awaited: the Quidditch match Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw. And to be prepared for, with Ron scheduling lots of training sessions.

However, two days later, Harry's concentration on Hogwarts issues was severely disturbed.

Entering the Great Hall for lunch, he saw Deborah waiting at his place. Coming closer, seeing her face, his smile faded.

"Deborah, what's wrong?"

"Maybe nothing. Do you know where Sirius is?"

"No - why?"

"I expected him yesterday evening, but he didn't come. His office doesn't know his whereabouts - I haven't seen him since Sunday."