Harry Potter and the Magical Tours

With bulging eyes, Peter Pettigrew looked around. He stared at Harry, at Lupin - and then his eyes fell on Voldemort, so obviously disarmed and unable to express any threat. Next instant, the human figure disappeared, and a rat was hurrying across the floor toward the near exit.

It came just to the corner.

A large black dog had crossed the distance with two jumps. The dog's teeth closed around the small grey body - but the neck-breaking twist didn't come. With the squeaking rat tightly packed, the dog returned to the middle of the room.

Harry hadn't seen much of the scene, as his eyes never left Voldemort for more than a quick glance aside. Grinning to the skeleton-like figure in his view, he said, "Wormtail seems not too happy about your call - actually, it looked very much as if he saw a chance to get lost from us all. Do you have a problem with your servants, Voldemort?"

The dark wizard watched the twisting rat with an expression that was hardly suited to promise a pleasant treatment. Apparently, the servant's attempted escape counted worse than being seen by him as powerless as in this scene.

"If so," said Voldemort, with some effort on remaining calm, "I take it it's none of your concern, Mr Potter, and you won't object the way how I'll punish this insubordination."

"Well, as long as we're together here, I'll object all of your plannings, and afterwards - there isn't much of an afterwards, at least not in the common sense."

"But, Mr Potter, I thought we had reached a common base for an agreement, and my summoning Wormtail was a first step in that direction?"

Harry shook his head. "From my perspective, getting Wormtail was just a prerequisite, or an upfront payment, as business people would call it - you see, Voldemort, we both have learned a bit of the trading language ... At any rate, I guess it's more productive to have him listening."

Not turning away, Harry called, "Remus - drop him in my viewing angle. I'm going to switch him back."

The dog moved a few steps forward. The fang opened, and the rat fell onto the rug, while the dog retreated a step to guard the exit.

Harry's wand movement was swift. "Praebetuipse!"

The figure of Peter Pettigrew shot upward and reached its full height. The eyes had normalized in size; however they were still looking hunted.

"Wormtail," said Harry, "do you need a lesson to know that your next transfiguring will be an extremely painful experience? A lesson from me, that is - not from your master, who's currently quite upset about your bad manners?"

Sweat appeared on the man's forehead. "Er - no, Harry, really, I understand even so, it's not necessary - definitely not, please - "

"Stop shitting language, Wormtail. Remus - please, I need you with a wand."

A moment later, Lupin's voice came from the chair. "All right, Harry."

"Remus, I'm not sure if my argument was convincing enough for Wormtail. Please be careful - and if he tries again, don't bother to bring him back, okay?"

Lupin's voice expressed hope and anticipation. "It'll be a pleasure, Harry. Maybe you could provoke him a bit - this was a dream for quite some time, with me closing my teeth around this rat and then really - "

Wormtail's human voice seemed as squeaky as a moment before. "No, I won't try! Please, Harry, tell him - "

"Shut up!"

The speed at which this servant could follow commands, in this case Harry's, gave little reason for complaint.

Turning his eyes back to the opposite chair, Harry said, "Now to your proposal, Voldemort. It's insufficient in the beginning, it's thin in the middle, and it lacks completeness toward the end - to express it in polite business terms. Let me formulate my view of a possible deal - and that's the only one to be discussed, I'm afraid."

Voldemort was suddenly very attentive. "Yes, Mr Potter, I'm sure we'll find an arrangement - "

"Don't you listen, dull-brain? I just said there's only my version of a deal - if any. We don't have to find it, we only have to see whether it works."

---

Voldemort almost choked on his efforts to suppress a remark, and instead look like an expectant businessman.

"There's just one part in which I'm ready to concede an agreement: without your help, we won't find Sirius, and since this is the only reason that may - may, Voldemort, not does - that may save you from death, we can just assume there's no conceivable magic that extracts this information from you, in particular since we could never be sure you told us everything that's needed. So far, I think, you'd agree, don't you?"

"Absolutely, Mr Potter."

"Fine. Now, coming to the question of mutual trust, a very important issue in this transaction. Unfortunately, I don't trust you - not farther than my spell can make you vibrate like a dynamo - "

"Er - Mr Potter, what's a dynamo?"

"Never mind, the message's probably clear anyway. So that leaves only one trustworthy partner in a possible deal, and that's me. Listen carefully, Voldemort, since I'm going to make a promise in three parts. Afterwards, I'll ask you whether you believe me, and you'll answer - this way or the other. This looks a bit like blackmailing, but it's not. Blackmailing is a pressure to accept a disadvantage, while here - if we don't find an agreement, I'll certainly kill you, and this is probably the biggest disadvantage, after all."

Voldemort looked expectant.

"Oh - before I'm going to give my promise, still a word to an aspect you're rating too high, Voldemort. You may have trouble fully accepting the thought that I'll kill you if the need arises - "

"No, Mr Potter, no longer."

"Seems to be true, according to Nagini's silence. But even so - I will, no matter what the outcome for me, that's a fact. Now the outcome - I'm not saying it's nonsense, to find myself dead afterwards - no, I take this possibility quite seriously. That's why - in a moment - I'll show you a few alternatives how to kill you and survive by myself."

It was almost funny to watch the concern in Voldemort's face when he said, "Mr Potter, that's impossible; whoever's going to - "

"Wait and see - afterwards, you can argue. Now to my promise. Ready?"

A nod.

"Okay." Harry inhaled. Then, to himself as much to his audience, he said, "Part one applies to the lucky outcome. If you instruct Remus - or Wormtail and Remus - how to free Sirius and bring him here - and if Remus and Sirius arrive here alive and well, and unharmed, and if they can safely return to Hogwarts - under these conditions, I'll jump with you to Nassau, or to a place near London, whatever's your choice, as long as we're close to some civilization, and then I'll let you go, without following further. I won't even return to this house - in other words, this business is then closed for me."

"Excellent, Mr Potter! We can - "

"Save it - I'm not finished yet. Let's come to part two. If any of these steps fail, if something happens to Remus, if something has happened to Sirius - for example, if he's missing a finger or an eye or another part of his body - "

"No - he's complete!"

"In short, if this transaction doesn't go exactly as planned, you'll be dead minutes after the failed step."

"It won't fail, Mr Potter."

"Third, Voldemort, and I strongly suggest listening to my every word: this is the last time that we face each other and you come out alive. I mean, if we meet by accident, I'll look away. But if you ever again harm people precious to me, innocent people, whether wizards, Muggles, Giants, Goblins, Veela - no matter which race - if you can't find your kingdom of dark magic without hurting and killing normal people, I'll find you again, and then I'll kill you."

Harry's voice grew in intensity. "The next time, there's no escape - I'm going to stop your blackmailing here and today. You may play with people like Warrington, that's none of my concern. Otherwise, Voldemort, we'll have another encounter - a last one."

Voldemort kept silent. His face was a mirror of different thoughts - the chance for surviving the day, an uncertain future, overshadowed by Harry's third promise which was limiting so much - but still, if Marie-Christine was right, a better choice than anything else.

Harry exhaled. "That's it, Voldemort. Now, do you believe that I'll keep my promises?"

---

The words were carefully chosen. "If not for this one issue, Mr Potter, I'd say yes immediately, and Nagini would keep silent. I deeply wish to say yes, only I have difficulties to imagine that you'd sacrifice your young life - and your unborn child - to a claim of destiny."

Voldemort couldn't imagine that someone was ready to die!

Inwardly, Harry felt triumphant - Marie-Christine was right, and the plan was working! Staying alive, that was Voldemort's rule not to be broken by anything else.

"Well," said Harry, "assuming I can sufficiently demonstrate that I have a way to bypass this problem, Voldemort, will you believe my promises then?"

"Absolutely, Mr Potter."

"Nagini?"

"It's the truth, Master - only that he thinks it's not real."

Of course, Voldemort had followed this conversation. He hastened to say, "That's correct, Mr Potter, but the moment you can give proof, I won't have any doubt left. Nagini has sensed my true conviction."

"Okay, then I just have to show you that a magical fact can be bypassed in many ways. Voldemort, without discussing moral principles - if there's one weakness in you, it's the disrespect of things other than a century-old tree of wizard anchestors - Muggles, for example. Anyway, you said we're bound by my blood running in your veins, and that's why killing you would be suicide for me, right?"

"Correct, Mr Potter."

"Well, Hermione is right, even with you - people just don't see the obvious. Voldemort, the simplest solution for that problem is to change it!" A terrible laughter came from Harry's lips.

"What do you mean, Mr Potter? You can't - "

"Quite simple - making sure there's none of my blood left in you when you're dying."

With an incredibly fast movement, Harry reached Voldemort's chair. Suddenly, a razor-sharp knife was in his hand, twin-bladed. He grabbed Voldemort's right arm, turned the inside up - a quick stroke across the wrist, and a thin, ruby fountain pulsed up, eight inches into the air, collapsed, replaced by another.

Into the gasping of Voldemort's disbelief, Harry grabbed the other arm, struck the second time and created another fountain that pulsed in the rhythm of the dark wizard's heartbeat.

Harry made a step back. "You see, Voldemort, a simple Muggle weapon, and fifteen minutes from now, you'd fall unconscious, never to wake up. Except there's one detail not quite correct: when killing you this way, I'll cut your throat - it's going much faster, and to the end that comes within seconds, there's little blood left in you ... What do you guess, will I survive the impact from this little blood left?"

---

The dark wizard stared in numb disbelief at the blood that was rhythmically pouring ot of both arms, at the growing pools on the floor, then looked up, desperation in his face. "Mr Potter - you promised to let me live; why do you - "

"Don't panic." Harry's wand pointed, and a moment later, the fountains stopped. The cuts across Voldemort's wrists had closed, kept by two thick seams of fresh and vulnerable scar tissue.

Harry said, "Don't move in a haste, Voldemort; these spots are still very shock-sensitive until tomorrow."

Voldemort had lost the little control he'd had of his emotions. Slowly, the deep fright in his face was replaced by clean, pure hatred.

"Okay, Voldemort, this is one alternative. I presented it first for the dramatic effect, and it has indeed impressed you considerably, didn't it? ... Although I have to admit, my first choice is another method: to let someone else do the killing - Wormtail, to be precise."

Voldemort sneered. "Wormtail? He won't do it - and besides, he'd die as well. My flesh stems from his body, like my blood stems from yours."

The subject of this discussion was staring at Voldemort, at Harry, his body shaking uncontrollably. "Please, I can't ... Harry, he's right - I'd die from - "

His eyes still not leaving Voldemort, his voice hard and cold, Harry said, "Oh yes, you can, Wormtail. I saw you kill Cedric; you have no trouble sending that curse. And Voldemort will be unconscious when you kill him, because he'll have lost a lot of blood by then."

"Even so, Harry, he's right, it'd kill me - "

"What a pity. Your life is in my hands, Wormtail. I saved you three years ago, and the result was that Cedric was killed, not even mentioning Voldemort's crimes since then. If it's true, if you really die from killing Voldemort, then you have one good argument when asked in Heaven or wherever. On the other hand, if you don't do it, you'll die for sure. There's just the tiny chance that - "

Wormtail's wailing raised in pitch. "No, please, no - I can't, Harry, I just can't do it, I'll certainly fail, and then - "

"And this from the man who killed a bunch of Muggles to hide his crime!" The rage in Harry's voice made room for contempt. "But his time as Voldemort's servant has broken his spine - okay Remus, kill him now, this noise is intolerable."

"Okay, Harry." Lupin's answer vibrated from a deep satisfaction. "Peter - turn into a rat, I'll give you six feet."

"No - no, I'll do it, I'll do what you want, Harry - I'll try my best, so please tell him to stop, and I'm not going to change into a rat - he'd catch me and kill me before you could turn your head, I know it, he's only waiting for this opportunity, no matter what you tell him."

Harry shook his head. "Wormtail, you're as unreliable as your master. If you don't want to die as a rat, then - "

Voldemort interrupted him. "Mr Potter, I believe you. Wormtail's used so much to hope for the tiniest chance, he'll give it a try after you've left me with just enough blood to stay unconscious. It won't change anything for him, but he'll try. Yes, Mr Potter, your arguments were both very convincing - I think we can settle the deal now."

"Can we?" Harry's grin was a grimace. "I wasn't even finished yet showing you the alternatives. For example, I could ask Nagini to strangle you to death - and don't tell me that'd be me killing you in this case, because it's her, a fully qualified individual."

Voldemort glanced at the snake, with considerably more expression in his eyes than in those staring back. "She would die too," he said. "Whoever's killing me will die."

"There's no sense in discussing this argument, because Nagini would do it for me."

Nagini's comment was short. "Yes, Master."

"Okay, Voldemort - do we have a deal?"

"Yes, Mr Potter."

* * *

Harry sat in his chair, watching Voldemort, motionless, silent. He had been sitting that way for the last thirty minutes. He would do it for ten more minutes, and then he would kill Voldemort.

Unless Remus and Sirius arrived in that time.

For the first ten minutes of the last half hour, Harry had been listening to Voldemort's careful explanations - not for the details, which were given to Lupin, more for the signals he received through his haragei. He had paid attention to comments from Nagini, which didn't come, and had watched Voldemort's body language.

No warning had reached his senses, only that the operation required extreme care - reaching the smaller island of the two Plana Cays, overcoming the first death trap, which would send yellow-fuming poison balls into the faces of passers-by, if not strictly keeping to the step marks. Reaching the building, which looked small from outside. Avoiding any door or window handle, which would port the careless intruder into the next vulcano at the southern continent. Then apparating inside, switching off the third death trap, which would drop a bucket of engorged tarantulas onto the head of the unknowing rescuer - to take out Sirius, to open the door from the inside with the key given by Voldemort, since Apparition did not work in the building, and to return.

All this, Voldemort had assured, would take just a few minutes - ten, fifteen at the most.

The fifteen minutes had passed.

Voldemort's face showed deep concern. Something had gone wrong, and a few minutes from now, the dark wizard would pay the price for someone else's clumsiness, or carelessness, or stupid attempt of being clever at the worst place and the worst time. If ever possible, this thought was corroding Voldemort's composure still more than the situation altogether.

Harry, in contrast, moved no muscle. He had not looked at the situation as some reality, had not considered success as the most likely result. For the last days, since his plan had formed, the prospect of finding Voldemort, being forced to let him live for the sake of Sirius, had turned his inner self to a gloomy place. Carrying this burden for another period of unknown duration - a small price for Sirius' life, a hard fate to enjoy.

Harry never expected Voldemort to keep the rules that resulted from his own third promise. For all he knew, the dark wizard was literally incapable of that - guiding a life without imposing his will and his power upon involuntary helpers. It was just impossible that all of them would turn out evil enough to be neglected. Sooner or later, the last part of a long crusade would come due.

While now, in three minutes' time, a short cut was waiting for him.

The part of his mind which wasn't checking and scanning relentlessly jumped into an unknown future - away from here, away from the nearest future in which he would have to find the strength, and the words, to tell Almyra and Deborah. This thought was something for later - after the last strike in this terrible combat.

Instead, that part of his mind had been idling ahead in time, now came back and said, "He would have killed you."

Voldemort jumped, thrown out of his own thoughts. "What?"

"Our son ... he'd have blasted off your foul spirit at the first attempt to take him over. You're doomed, Voldemort, like any other mortal, only - "

Pop. Pop-pop.

Lupin stood there, relief spreading his face at seeing Harry, and regret and distaste at seeing Voldemort alive as well.

Sirius stood there, looking not quite as bad as three years ago, when Harry had seen him for the first time in the Shrieking Shack. But still - there was the same look in his eyes, haunted, ill. At least, his lips started to grin.

Wormtail stood there, too - bleeding heavily from a large wound across his chest, a wound that continued at his back, as Harry saw a moment later.

---

Voldemort spoke first, staring at his unlucky servant. "You foolish creature - you put my life at risk! You'll regret that, and you'll never forget this lesson - never!" He was almost spitting.

Harry sent a quick glance to Lupin. "What happened?"

"Our clever rat brain here found it the right time for getting lost - of course in the worst possible moment. We barely escaped Voldemort's little friends with the eight legs, and then there was a rat hunt - with two dogs. We've been lucky - this island is too dry for good rat hiding."

Sirius' voice sounded almost apologetic. "It was me who caught him - my bite was a bit hard, just in time Remus warned me to keep him alive because you might still need him, Harry."

"No - not after you two are gone."

"You mean, I can finish my bite?"

"There's nothing in the agreement which talks about Wormtail. But think twice, Sirius - "

"I had a lot of time to think, and I did already. It's due for three years, Harry."

"Sirius, please, think again. What satisfaction is there in death? Seeing you alive - although I'll find time to examine you only in a minute - that's what counts. And besides, leaving him with Voldemort, isn't that a judgement worse than hell?"

There was silence from Sirius, while Lupin's voice rose, comforting. "Harry's right. Leave him - enjoy your own life, knowing him in the hands of this monstrosity."

A thought crossed Harry's mind. "Wormtail - if you want to be free, kill Voldemort - now."

But all fighting spirit was gone from the bleeding figure, and before Wormtail could shake a sweaty head, Voldemort leapt up.

"But that's breaking your promise, Mr Potter! You said you'd let me - "

"Is it, Voldemort?"

Harry showed a joyless grin. "It's exactly what we had to expect from you - fulfilling the words but not the sense - and you complain when tasting your own medicine? But in some sense you're right, so I take the offer back - hadn't been accepted anyway. Remember, Voldemort, and never forget: I keep my promises by word and intention, especially the third part."

Harry sent a short glance to his godfather. "Sirius, are you ready to go?"

"Yes, Harry, but I can't apparate to Nassau; I've never been there. And I can't pursue."

"What's your business in Nassau? Jump home - still better, to Deborah."

"But I'd like to talk with you, and tell you - "

"Yes," interrupted Harry, "for me it's the same, but it's too risky here around, and right now I have just one wish - knowing you off from here, and safe. Tell Deborah she has to hug you for me too, okay?"

"Harry," said Sirius with some unsteadiness in his voice, "I owe you - more than - "

"No you don't - ask a Goblin why you can't owe the other side in a bond. And now get lost."

"Okay ... See you two soon." Sirius disappeared.

Harry felt lighter by a ton. "Remus," he asked, "can we jump back to the hotel - me following you?"

"Sure, Harry. Ready?"

"Yes."

The picture of Voldemort, eagerly waiting for the first moment alone with his servant, was Harry's last impression before the room disappeared and this moment of eternal void passed.

He stood in the hotel lobby. Lupin was nowhere in sight.

Looking around, Harry encountered the darkest moment in this day, which - eons ago - had started with a breakfast and continued with Boring Binns' dry rhetorics. And now, so close to the end, Voldemort had managed something of which he didn't even know -

"Harry!"

He wheeled around. Lupin - once more looking relieved, though certainly not as much as Harry himself. "What happened?"

"Nothing. I apparated to the outside, only I didn't find you behind me."

"That's strange - I followed you into the lobby, except you weren't there."

"How - " Lupin stopped, a wide grin spreading his face. "How long did Voldemort jump with you around the world?"

"Dunno - with so many changes of the daytime, you lose all feeling. Why?"

"Don't you see what happened? You didn't follow, you jumped by yourself! Voldemort's last present for you - Apparition of the most accurate kind. I didn't dare anything other than the outside, toward a target I'd seen only for a few minutes. The lobby was your choice, Harry."

Lupin laughed, laughed, pouring out the stress of the recent hours in a roaring laughter.

After a moment, Harry joined him. This was no Zen riddle at all, and still there was an element similar enough - Voldemort would never know about this joke.

A few minutes later, Lupin said, "Ready to jump, Harry?"

"The Hogsmeade platform?"

"Sure. You first."

And suddenly, Harry understood. Apparation and apparition pursuit weren't different at all, somehow. For him, apparation meant following someone to a target known in advance - except this someone didn't exist.

Another Zen riddle - reason enough to jump it away.

* * *

Yawning, Harry poured tea into his cup. Breakfast time at the Gryffindor table, soon to be followed by an ordinary day in Hogwarts, suddenly appeared as a very inviting prospect. Charms, in particular, where he might have a joke in store for Madam Hooch. If only he would feel more awake than right now.

The night hadn't really been short. When they reached the Entrance Hall - he and Remus, who, touching the first step, invisibly changed to Lupin and Prof - it had been close to midnight. A bit late, though nothing out of the ordinary.

Four people hed been sitting there, too uneasy for sleep, too tired for counting them awake: Cho and Almyra, Ron and Hermione. They'd jumped up, to stop cold - a terrible moment of uncertainty at seeing only two figures -

"He's at home, or with Deborah!" Planned to calm them down, for immediate comfort, the words had come from Harry's mouth as a shout of triumph.

He'd had just time to deposit Nagini, then Cho had clung to him, Almyra to Lupin, while Ron and Hermione had first been hugging each other and then dancing around the other two couples in a kind of War Dance, Ron not ending to carol, "They got him! Yes, sir, they got him!"

And Cho had been crying, violently, unable to stop. Harry had held her, had rocked her gently from side to side. "I told you, didn't I?"

A nod, and another outburst of tears.

However, minutes later, they'd been sitting at the best place in this situation - the Hogwarts kitchen, surrounded by Dobby, Winky, and other house-elves who hurried to get more food and drinks, hurried back not to miss anything important in Harry's and Remus' summary.

And this was one of the reasons why now, at breakfast, Harry didn't feel hungry, instead would have preferred some more sleep. He was sipping his tea, reconsidering the previous day, and its ending.

The news of Voldemort being alive had been a mild shock for the others, overcome quickly with the hope the dark wizard might remember Harry's promise, with the insight that there had been no other choice, and of course with the - unspoken - expectation that Harry would handle it - the latter more from Ron, less from Cho, mostly however from Dobby.

Lupin had promised to inform Dumbledore, so this Hogwarts schoolday might indeed be the first in a while to run completely undisturbed. The only special event Harry had in mind would take place in the evening - a quick visit to pass some information further.

Rahewa appeared in the hall, uncommonly late for her habits - maybe because her first glance toward the Gryffindor table should confirm or deny her expectations, excluding the possibility of a sixth-year still asleep.

Harry suppressed a laugh. Rahewa, unable to take her eyes away from him, had stumbled into an older student, who gave an angry shout, walking away with a shaking head when this skinny girl didn't even bother to register him.

Harry waved to her and waited while Rahewa came speeding around the table. He said, "I have something to give back to you - but not here in public, maybe after lunch. Sirius is okay, we got him."

Two dark fires started to glow. "Did you ... was it a help for you?"

"Oh yes! You may still find Voldemort's blood on it - I had no time to clean it properly."

For a second, Harry felt sure the Great Hall would see the second War Dance, this time original Cree. He said quickly, "But he's still alive - had to be, the only way to get Sirius."

Rahewa accepted this without the slightest trace of disappointment - probably in the hope her twin-bladed knife would, some time in the future, receive a second baptism of this special kind. She marched to her place and started eating, although Harry couldn't help thinking that she would certainly have eaten sawdust cakes without even noticing.

---

Charms started after lunch. With respect to the hot day, the Gryffindors and Madam Hooch used broomsticks to reach the training area outside the school's protective sphere. And of course, most students tried to jumble around in cool air, rather than starting their tedious exercises.

Not so Harry. For once, he knew something better than air dives. And for once, he wanted to make a show of it.

So he moved around, asking his classmates, "Want a pumpkin fizz?" earning only assent, what else, together with laughters for what sounded like a nice joke - there was no pumpkin fizz in Hogwarts, and Madam Hooch had confiscated all broomsticks as the only method of getting the lesson running.

Harry reached her. "A pumpkin fizz, Prof?"

A suspicious look. "What do you have in mind, Harry?"

As long as it was Harry rather than Mr Potter, he could play along. "First questions first, Prof! So, a pumpkin fizz or something else?"

A suppressed grin. "Pumpkin fizz sounds fine, except - " Madam Hooch stopped; for her as for anybody else, there was no sense in talking to empty air.

She was still looking around, trying to find another explanation because the obvious one seemed impossible, when Harry appeared some yards to her side, since she had moved in the short time. He stepped closer. "Here we are, Madam - a pumpkin fizz, with compliments from - "

"Harry! Where have you been?"

He faked astonishment. "In Hogsmeade, in the store - why, do you know a better place to get some fizz?"

"How did - " She stopped again, her eyes widening. "Have you figured out - " She stopped once more, lost in a frantic giggle - before her eyes, the figure of Harry shrank to the horizon, in a rapid staccato of Apparition jumps.

Then he stood in front of her again, beaming. "Yes, Prof - I found out."

"You tricky ... How did you manage?"

"Erm - I had a special training, so to speak. It was enough for the breakthrough."

"And who was your trainer?"

His beaming faded. "Voldemort."

Madam Hooch gasped. "You're joking!"

"No, Prof, not at all."

Of course, for the next five minutes, the witch didn't give a damn whether her other students would splinch themselves and instead was listening to Harry's short summary, given in fair distance from the next ears.

Afterwards, Ron came to him. "Harry, I'll learn it in good time, no doubt - after all, if Percy has managed, it can't be that difficult. I mean, I'm not envious - the price is a bit too high, but still, I won't mind a tip or two."

"Well - what I figured out is, Apparition and Pursuit are the same, in a way. We always tried to push ourselves to the destination, and I think that's wrong. A better picture is - you reach the destination, and then you let your body follow, something like a summons on yourself."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, I see what you mean. That's why Hooch always says we shouldn't try a long-distance levitation - it's the first time this remark makes sense to me."

For some minutes, Harry zoomed through the landscape, until Madam Hooch told him he should either stop or get lost before frustrating the others too much. Then he sat down near Ron and Hermione, trying to give the most precise description of what he was doing when apparating.

* * *

Back in the school building, he saw Cho waiting for him. She smiled. "We have an invitation, Harry."

"Really? When, where, who?" Seeing her look, he added, "In the order of asking, please."

"This evening. Here in Hogwarts - Dumbledore has offered the guest suite for the small round" - she grinned - "the big one, that is. Who? Sirius - he has invited his rescuers again, but - "

"Where is he?"

Cho laughed. "With Dumbledore - probably already in the suite. But the true reason is, they want to hear every detail of yesterday, and the days before."

Every detail? Certainly not.

Then Harry remembered what he had in mind. "There's a short visit I still have to make - the sooner, the better. Can we - "

"A visit - whom?"

He grinned. "Your father - or your mother, if he's not home yet."

For an instant, Cho was thinking of a joke, looked as if stomping her feet next moment, then she remembered. "Because of ..."

"Crownshield, yes. He's the one your father is looking for, and we have to agree how to proceed."

"Proceed?"

"Yes - who's going to get him, your father or I."

Cho's expression hardened. "You know what he'll say, don't you?"

"Yes, I know."

"And what's your comment?"

"I'll tell your father to call for my help if some magic is required."

Cho nodded. "Yes, my feeling's the same."

About to leave, he stopped. "This party - did Sirius really say, his rescuers?"

Another nod. "His own words."

"In this case - please, can you go to Beauxbatons and fetch Marie-Christine? She has contributed as much as Remus or I. And when I'm back, I guess we'll meet in the suite, so you don't have to hang around here."

"Where do I find her?"

"Ask along - she said she's a celebrity."

Apparition was a wonderful thing - except for the tedious preparation by leaving the Hogwarts sphere. At least, Harry had a short flight on his Steel Wing, the only broomstick that could not get lost.

Mrs Chang saw him, saw his face, and hugged him. "Harry ... Harry."

Mr Chang appeared, registered the important news, beamed, and bowed. "I knew it, Harry - only I wasn't entirely sure."

"Yeah, I know that feeling. Sir, I know the man you're looking for."

Harry was pulled inside, although this was the only contribution to Chinese formality. Sitting in a chair, he gave a detailed description of the scenes in the Amalgamated Enterprises building, and a short summary of the rest. He finished, "This issue is still open, sir, that's why I came here. I wanted to agree with you who's going to - er, talk with this man."

Mr Chang looked expressionless. "I would like to take this over, Harry."

"That's what I thought, sir. And Cho thinks the same. Only if it looks as if - er, if you realize there's some - "

Mr Chang interrupted him. "In plain English, Harry - you're trying to tell me, 'Don't mess with dark magic,' right?"

"Yes - exactly, sir."

"I won't." Mr Chang bowed. "I'm in your debt, for the implicit offer and still more - "

"Excuse me for interrupting you, sir, but you're not. It's shared work, nothing else."

Another tiny bow. "Is this the ethic taught at Hogwarts, Harry?"

"Well - I had teachers outside Hogwarts too, but even there, the name Voldemort makes the difference. If you ever see Dumbledore furious, you'll know that he'd agree with us. And besides, the same is true for the Goblins."

After promising a longer report at the next opportunity, Harry apparated back to his broomstick, feeling joy and excitement about the new and wonderful skill - not that it would render his linkport network ticket obsolete, for there were lots of unknown places around the world, while for daily routine, having the places closer than next door was something hard to beat.

* * *

When he arrived in the school buildings, supper was in full swing. Checking around, he realized that the other party guests were probably waiting for him in the suite. This left only one short preparation, requiring a few words, another argument, and finally a gentle pulling.

A moment later, he knocked at the door which seemed to come into play whenever evil planning had to be, or had been, thwarted.

It was Cho who opened the door. She looked - and grinned. "I knew it. Come in."

Six more people stared - Sirius and Deborah, Remus and Almyra, Dumbledore and Marie-Christine. Only Arbogast in his picture kept busy preparing drinks.

Harry beamed into the round. "That's a rescuer party, right? In this case - please meet the one who gave me the weapon - and the idea - to break the bloody bond with Voldemort, and who's entitled for the full story like anybody else in this room. Her name is Rahewa Lightfoot."

Smiles, one or two a bit forced, and hellos.

"She's just a bit nervous, mind you - Rahewa doesn't know what it means to be scared." And only now, Harry opened his tight grip around a thin hand which had stopped trembling already outside.

The helplessness in Dumbledore's face wasn't entirely faked. "Miss Lightfoot, please keep this as a secret. If Professor McGonagall ever finds out, we're in deep trouble."

Into the laughter, Sirius and Deborah came storming toward Harry. Sirius hugged him first. "I still don't know what to say, Harry."

"That's okay - you've invited enough people to do the talking."

Deborah came to hug him, and to whisper, "You've started the fourth part of my life."

And then the talking began, first from Sirius, who reported how the trap link had carried him into Voldemort's hands and how he was treated - reasonably well, given the circumstances, confirming that Voldemort had a clear perception of the limits, and what would disqualify his pledge. This was followed by Harry's description of the days spent searching, by Almyra's view of Warrington's interrogation, by Marie-Christine's analysis of motives, until finally Harry's part was due - the fight with Voldemort.

When he explained how the handcuffs had been opened, under the Cruciatus spell, his audience gasped. Even Dumbledore looked awe-struck. "How could you do that, Harry?"

"It's Zen, Prof ... I heard about people walking barefeet over burning coal - might be the same."

When he spoke about the second Cruciatus - his own against Voldemort, and how long it had lasted, there was grim satisfaction in all faces, except his own. He knew too well - this scream was nothing ever to forget.

His sketching of the bloody demonstration, using Voldemort's own flesh and blood, raised another round of gasps, this time leaving out two more guests - Dumbledore and Rahewa.

Sirius looked at the girl. "I'd like to see that knife."

A moment later, the shining weapon lay on the table.

Lupin grinned. "Don't look now, Albus - you can't possibly want to see what I'm seeing."

The others were asking each other if someone had seen the weapon appear in Rahewa's hand. Only Marie-Christine looked pale, and there was some sweat on her face.

Almyra glanced at Dumbledore. "Professor, what's your judgement - is Voldemort right with his argument, and would this - er, butchering prevent the effect on Harry?"

The Headmaster looked uneasy. "I have to be careful with my answer - people tend to take me literally, I guess Mademoiselle Théroux knows that feeling too ..."

Marie-Christine nodded empathetically.

"... I'm sure there is some connection, and without preparation, it would have a fatal effect. On the other hand, magic is rarely a question of yes or no, and this is no exception. My own assumption would be that Harry probably would lose the skills he inherited from Voldemort, while I'd be truly surprised if he'd die - "

Cho flared up. "Me too!"

Harry giggled. For once, the blow out of nowhere hadn't been directed to him.

Deborah asked, "And after the loss of blood?"

It was Marie-Christine who answered. "The human body holds about twelve pints of blood. Losing three to four pints is lethal - in other words, there would be eight to nine pints left."

Dumbledore nodded. "True - but then, this could be just the downscaling required to survive. It was brilliant, Harry, to take it literally and to diminish the risk that way - "

Harry patted a thin shoulder at his side. "Here's my mentor for that, Prof."

The Headmaster sighed. "Please allow me not to comment on that. At any rate, if the question will ever arise again, I'd prefer if you'll find a way to let Wormtail do it - or Voldemort himself."

Wormtail was the keyword for the last part of the story - told by Sirius. When he described the whirling mass of tarantulas, coming down inches apart from his own and Lupin's bodies, some faces showed a greenish shade.

---

To the end, Lupin had fun telling the audience how they had met in the hotel lobby, realizing that Harry had performed his first Apparition. After finishing, he looked at Harry. "That reminds me - what about that guy, this Crownshield?"

Harry's glance was blank. "What about him?"

"Well, I had the feeling you might plan another visit - to the building, or the man."

Harry's voice was flat. "No. I don't think I'll ever meet him."

A quick exchange of glances between Lupin and Sirius. "Ah - er, yes, sure."

Dumbledore stood up. "I have heard what I wanted to know, and a bit more" - a wry look toward the knife at the table - "so please allow me to say good night. Miss Lightfoot - "

Rahewa was up. "Of course, Professor."

Next second, the knife was gone, and moments later, the unlikely pair had left the room.

Sirius said, "That's some girl - try as I might, I didn't see the knife disappear. Anyway, Harry, now you can tell us the truth about that Crownshield."

Harry tried to look upset. "I did!"

"No flattening of a few buildings, in the days to come?"

"No, honestly! By the way, they're flat by themselves."

Sirius examined his face. "Where have you been before arriving here?"

"Not in Nassau, if that's your question. Otherwise, you don't want to know - not you, chief of police."

For an instant, Sirius looked blank, then he nodded, his face still expressionless, yet somehow totally different. "Yes, you're right - sorry, I was a bit slow."

---

Later that evening, Harry and Cho escorted Marie-Christine down to the Beauxbatons linkport and said good night, after promising to visit her soon. Coming upstairs, Cho suggested a minute of fresh air outside. Near the lake, she said, "Pity she doesn't have that apartment any longer."

Harry grinned. "What about you? A few weeks from now, you're free to rent your own, right?"

"You're just poking to find out about my plans."

"Well, whatever it'll be, now I can visit you easily - that's simply fantastic!"

"You have no Apparition license yet."

"Yeah, terrible, isn't it?"

Cho giggled, then stopped giggling. "Talking about apartments, and staying overnight - is there a guest room in Deborah's flat?"

For once, Harry had seen the blow coming - actually since the moment when Cho had suggested the walk. He answered, "Not really. Her office serves for that, with a couch you can flatten out."

"Is it wide enough for two?"

"I'd say no - but I didn't try."

"But good enough to sleep alone?"

"Basically yes ... Unless someone next door shrieks up from a nightmare, terrified as hell, and refuses to sleep for fear of dreaming it again. In that case, you find yourself forced to calm her down, hold her - "

"Tightly."

Harry sighed. "Yes - if not immediately, then because she's coming closer by herself. And suddenly you realize all she's wearing is something thin, and very short. Then it could happen that you respond, if you want or not, and suddenly she thinks a wet dream is far better than a nightmare."

"A wet dream, huh?" Cho's voice was calm, thoughtful.

"Yes, that's what it was - only we were awake."

Cho stopped looking thoughtful and stared into his face. "Did you enjoy it?"

"Answering yes is somehow inaccurate, and answering no is certainly wrong. I didn't volunteer, and I didn't resist either ... It didn't feel wrong then, and now - you asked me, and I'm not going to lie to you."

Cho nodded. "No, and that's ..." She grabbed him. "I wasn't asked, and that's why you'll be ordered to dream the same dream with me - at the next opportunity."

He held her tightly. "I know what you mean, and I will - while otherwise, I can do without this nightmare ... Much better, actually."

They stood a moment in silent embrace. Then Harry saw Cho look up, saw the unspoken question, and kissed her before murmuring, "Yes, that's another difference."

"Maybe it's a similarity, huh?"

Knowing exactly what Cho meant, while not overly interested in a longer discussion, Harry saw a chance to change the subject. "There's something I didn't tell the others - even Remus doesn't know, because he was fetching Sirius when I told Voldemort. It's of course speculation, but I'm pretty sure about my guess."

Curiosity had gripped her. "What?"

"Our son ... If Voldemort would ever try to take him over, that child would crush him the same instant, no matter which age."

Cho nodded. "Yes, you're right, I'm sure you are, maybe except for one detail." Seeing his blank look, she grinned. "Who said it would be a son?"