Harry Potter and the Thunderstruck Muggles

Looking around, Harry felt as if he'd just made a remark about the weather, rather than about Dementors and the Kiss of Death - well, except that the weather might have raised more emotions. None of the faces around him showed any reaction.

So this had been a test - not of Harry's own guesswork, more of someone else's conclusion. And this someone had known that here, in England, some experts in fighting Dementors could be found. And these two agents had contacted the British wizard police, to meet Sirius, who had called - no, something was wrong in this chain, and at the same moment Harry felt sure that this someone had mentioned him personally, and the two agents had simply taken the normal route, totally unaware of the relationship between Sirius and himself.

"Who is it?"

This time Harry saw a reaction - the shade of an appreciating smile in Sirius' face, some other eyes narrowing. After a short moment, Agent Ellis asked, "Who is who?"

The man knew exactly what the question meant, Harry didn't need Nagini for that. He looked at the man, then at the woman.

"Can we stop playing stupid?"

Without hesitation, the woman said, "Your name popped up, Mr Potter."

Harry rose from his chair. "Okay, has been a fascinating story. I wish you luck - "

Agent Ellis interrupted him. "Sorry, Mr Potter - the answer was complete, only we forgot that this term doesn't tell you anything. Our mistake - what my partner meant was, we made a scan through our database with some keywords, and your name was in the result, at a significant position."

Harry kept standing. "Database? Is this something with computers?"

"Yes, that's something with computers." Agent Ellis didn't smile at all. "For the last half year, the FBI has been working desperately to build up an information base about, er, magical people. It's still thin, compared to our standards, but significant events are recorded, which includes the Battle of Hogwarts. The starting point was of course Dementors, and that's been given by several wizards we interviewed."

Harry sat down. "In this case, please excuse my, er, impatience. I wasn't aware - "

Agent Chipman waved dismissively. "Mr Potter, from this short description, you say 'Kiss of Death' without hesitation. Why?"

"Because that's the only explanation I know - and because I'm somewhat familiar with it."

"Would you exclude any other cause?"

Harry shrugged. "How could I? But it just fits, although there's something weird - "

"Why does it fit? And what's weird?"

Harry glanced at the man, turned back to the woman. "How much do you know about Dementors?"

Agent Ellis answered, like in a ping-pong match two against one. "Not too much; let's assume for a moment we know nothing, Mr Potter."

"Well ... Dementors feed on emotions, they don't need body contact for that - and such a place, with thrilled people, for them is like a gala dinner for us. I guess it's dark in those ghost trains, so there's a perfect hide, and people won't recognize their aura. But that's one of the things worrying me - in a way, it's extremely unlikely."

"Why?"

"Dementors joining Muggle places, to feed on emotions - this alone makes me wonder. And executing the Kiss of Death, without a permit - that's like committing a crime in full view of hundred witnesses ..."

The two FBI agents weren't impressed at all by this argument, seemed to consider such an event as the most natural thing, something to be seen every day.

"... and it's also unclear to me why the wizards inside didn't feel them. A Dementor aura is very strong; it's like a cold creeping into your bones - "

Sirius interrupted Harry, speaking for the first time since the introduction.

"I think I can solve this particular mystery." He looked at his two FBI guests. "Harry's a living Dementor detector, but he's not fully aware of that. Other wizards must come very close to a Dementor before they feel their aura, while Harry can sense them over quite some distance."

Agent Ellis looked at the living detector. "How far?"

Harry shrugged. "I never measured - maybe hundred yards. It's unmistakable."

"Is it? How does it feel?"

"Cold, as I said - a cold different from any other ... And something else."

The two agents looked at Harry. When he still hesitated, Sirius said, "Please, Harry, if you - "

Harry swallowed. "When I come closer to them, I experience the scene how my parents are killed."

It raised some movement in the two faces - and next moment, barely suppressed, an expression like that of gold diggers, detecting a nugget.

Harry glared at them. "That's not supposed to be public knowledge."

Agent Ellis nodded. "That's understood, Mr Potter. Let me assure you that it's nearly impossible to break into our database."

What a relief! Nearly impossible ... And what about all the other FBI agents? But a second later, an idea was growing in Harry's mind, quickly enough to make him relax. "Yeah, okay."

The woman asked, "You said their behaviour is unusual. Then how would you explain it?"

"Hmm ... Probably not at - " Harry stopped, remembering a conversation some days ago. "No - there is an explanation, and it fits even better." He looked up. "It's just a speculation, and not mine alone. Do you - "

Seeing their faces, he saved the question whether they wanted to hear. They were dying for it. He asked, "Does the name Voldemort tell you something?"

Yes it did.

"Okay, then. According to our analysis, Voldemort is responsible for the development between our two worlds, Muggles and Magicals. And for all we know, he's somewhere in the United States."

The two faces couldn't suppress a sharp twist of greed, while Harry felt no intention to go into more detail on that aspect.

"According to our Headmaster's expectation - and I agree with him - Voldemort is pretty disappointed that the encounters didn't result in more damage and killing - which means he's planning new actions. And such a plot, sending Dementors to kill people, so it looks as if wizards are killing Muggles, that's exactly his handwriting. And he has used Dementors almost regularly in the past."

Agent Chipman asked, "Which means we have to find Voldemort to stop these accidents?"

"Certainly not!" Harry nearly gasped.

"Why not?"

"Because that's my job."

"Ah, yes, of course."

With some effort, Harry stopped himself before shouting at the man, his expressionless tone, his face not hiding disbelief. If they were going to mess up now ...

Sirius came to help. "Mr Ellis, Miss Chipman - if your database is worth a sickle - er, a nickel, then you should know that Harry's right, and you should listen carefully, especially if you like funerals of colleagues as much as I do."

For an instant, the man's nostrils turned white, then he had himself under control again. "Okay - I'm listening."

Sirius looked at Harry. "Explain it - you can do it better than I."

Harry took a moment to weigh his words. "I'm the only one qualified - and don't ask me why; I don't know the answer. Voldemort can't kill me; when trying, he would destroy himself. That's one reason. The other ... whenever we meet, I gain some of his skill - over time, I gathered enough power and skill to fight him, and the next time will be the last time. From my perspective, he'll destroy himself, and I'm just the tool required for that."

Agent Ellis stared at him. "Even all this granted, Mr Potter - do you expect us, the FBI, sitting idle and watch you and him meet in some showdown - after he's as good as killed four American citizens, or more, and after you told us that he's in the States? You can't be serious about that."

Harry's idea was developing to full shape. "I didn't say so."

"Then what else? What do you have in mind?"

Harry smiled. "A deal."

* * *

Sirius stared at him with a mix of pleasure and desperation. Pleasure from the opportunity to watch his godchild wrestling with some FBI agents, and desperation because this fun would have a short life, to be followed by either side messing with Voldemort - and apparently, Sirius couldn't decide which alternative looked worse, Harry or the FBI.

Agent Chipman asked calmly, "What kind of deal, Mr Potter?"

"You get the help against those Dementors - that's why you came here, and this is the first part of the deal."

"Your help?"

"Mine - and that of the second wizard who can kill a Dementor."

Agent Ellis' head jerked up. "Mr Potter - we didn't come to hire some killers, not even for Dementors! That's the last thing - "

Harry shook his head. "You can't arrest Dementors, and you can't put them into a prison. We're not necessarily planning to kill them - please don't confuse me with Dirty Harry ..."

They twitched! No question, they'd done just that.

"... but if you can't kill a Dementor, you better stay off. Sir, madam, please keep in mind that they aren't human, and whatever ethics they have, these aren't ours. What I'd like to do most is to find them, to interrogate them, and then to send them back."

"Just so?" Agent Ellis didn't hide his serious doubt.

"Yes, with a message to their community. Something like, either they stop sucking Muggles - kissing to death, I mean - or we come and kill the complete community. And you can believe me, they know us, my - er, friend and myself."

Agent Chipman said, "So this is one side of the deal. And the other?"

"No, madam, this deal has three sides. The next part is that you, the FBI, provides help in searching Voldemort - with this database, in particular."

"I thought you knew where Voldemort is?"

Harry's head shook again. "Only the area. I was planning to hire Pinkerton, and still do, but any information is certainly helpful."

The woman sneered a bit. "Pinkerton? To search a man? Are you a millionaire, Mr Potter?"

"In dollars, yes."

"But not afterwards."

Harry nodded. "That's okay."

This, more than his previous answer, made Agent Chipman stare at him, speechless.

Harry took the opportunity. "And then there's the last part, and that's the most important one from my perspective: you, the FBI, will not try catching Voldemort, you won't try to watch him - er, observation is the term, I think. You just make sure he doesn't notice you, doesn't know about you."

Agent Ellis said, "He won't know. We're no bloody beginners, Mr Potter - "

"No, sir." Harry's face had lost all joy. "What I'm saying is, you just do nothing in this direction - nothing."

"Mr Potter, you're asking for the impossible! Even if we'd agree, it won't help you; we can't speak for the entire FBI. As soon - "

Harry interrupted him. "Then forget the deal."

The woman said, "Mr Potter, it's just unrealistic."

Harry looked at her. "Then we have a problem. I'm not discussing your abilities - it's just that nobody can approach Voldemort unnoticed, not to mention a guard over days, or weeks. That's impossible! And if he knows he's been found, he'll disappear again. We can't afford that."

"But - if nobody can come close unnoticed, how would you do it?"

Harry grimaced. "What I have in mind is ... Let's say those detectives find a possible candidate, someone who, er, meets the criteria. They tell me, there and there's someone who might be Voldemort. Then I visit that place, and in this first visit, I have to finish the story - if it's him. I can pursue - if he apparates away, I can follow; we played that game already. But I can't leave and expect to find him some minutes later - if he'll see me, he'll know what's going to happen."

Agent Ellis said, "Let's say, we believe you every word, Mr Potter, but it still doesn't solve our problem."

Sirius smiled. "But of course it does. In this case, you just forget the Voldemort part in your report. And later, you work as the contact toward that database ... You know the game perfectly well, don't you?"

The woman looked at him. "So what? How would you know we're serious? How could you trust us?"

Harry beamed. "There's a method, madam. If that's the only problem left, then we have a deal."

Agent Chipman glanced at him. "A lie detector? Forget it. And don't expect us to accept some brain drug - scopolamine or whatever."

"Scopalmine? Never heard of." Harry had fun. "Anyway, we don't need that."

A suspicious stare. "Then what else?"

"Nagini. It's a snake; she's been Voldemort's snake, and now she's mine."

The woman almost laughed, however not from joy.

Harry asked Sirius to explain a bit more, and expect him back in fifteen minutes. Then he apparated to Hogwarts, fetching the two items he should have brought with him in the beginning - his snake and his map of maps.

* * *

When he entered the room again, carrying Nagini around his body, the two FBI faces showed more expression than all the time before - some admiration for a brilliant-green animal, and deep mistrust. The woman asked, "What's it doing, Mr Potter?"

"It's not an it, it's a she! Her name is Nagini."

"Well, okay ..."

Harry could hear - and feel - hardly tempered impatience, clearly a sign of days and weeks spent working on a mysterious and gruesome criminal case. Even so - what he had to say wouldn't make them feel much better.

"She's my lie detector."

"Aha."

Harry's eyes turned to his side. "They don't believe a word, Nagini, do they?"

"No, Master. They are desperate for help, but they are not ready to believe they can find it here."

The two agents had watched the conversation with astonishment and showed an expression as if, next moment, they were asked to readjust their perception of Santa Claus.

"That was Parseltongue," explained Harry, "one of the gifts I inherited from Voldemort. Nagini can sense emotions, but very detailed ones - and she knows if someone's lying. She never fails."

They just stared.

Fully aware that the two FBI agents had to believe and trust before leaving the room, Harry came to his decision. Words alone weren't enough, while a stage performance some time ago helped him to find the right approach. He asked, "Madam, what's your age?"

Agent Chipman caught the idea immediately. "Thirty-seven."

Nagini hissed.

"Not true. So what is it?"

"Thirty-six."

"Yes, that's correct. How old have you been when you lost your virginity?"

The woman's mouth fell open, closed again. "Seventeen."

"No."

"Er - no, I was already eighteen."

"No."

Blood was filling her face. "Twenty-one."

"That's correct. Please excuse the question, but Nagini told me you two don't really believe us, so I thought it was time for something drastic. Another test, or do you accept it?"

No - not another test.

After a moment's listening, Harry shook his head. "Sorry - you still don't believe it, you're just afraid of the next question ... Do you sometimes wish you were white?"

No answer.

"Do you sometimes wish you were younger? Are you satisfied with your appearance?"

Still silence.

"Madam, each of these questions raises emotions in yourself which are strong enough so that I could give you the answer to all three questions, if I'd ask Nagini. I won't, but I'm not going to stop until you believe me."

Agent Chipman was fighting for her composure. "Mr Potter - give me a few minutes, please ... It's too much at once."

"Yes, I can imagine." He turned to the man. "Sir, ready for your own test?"

"Maybe not, but ... ask, Mr Potter."

"What's your true feeling toward wizards? Or witches?"

"They're - strange, and fascinating ... A challenge - for myself, for our organization, for - "

Harry stopped him. "Sir, politeness is just an accepted form of lying, but for Nagini, there's not much difference." He said something in Parseltongue, listened a moment, then looked up. "Ready to hear the translation?"

The man's voice was flat. "Yes."

Harry grinned. "I don't need Nagini to translate that - you're not ready, but damn if you'd chicken out here, right?"

Agent Ellis relaxed a bit. "Probably. Okay, I'm listening."

"Well, then. Strange? Of course, and deep inside, you're scared as hell, only you're not ready to confess it to yourself, not to mention saying it aloud. Fascinating? Sure, and it raises some hopes in yourself of which you thought they were gone with your childhood. Challenging? You're going to fight toe and nail to prove that you, or maybe the FBI, are superior to some damned wizards."

The man swallowed. "The snake told you all that?"

"Not in these words - as I said, she only senses emotions, but very accurately, so I had no trouble translating them into motivations you'd expect in a police officer."

Agent Ellis exhaled deeply. "Wow ... Just for the peace of mind, Mr Potter - another test, a small one?"

After a moment's thinking, Harry grinned. "Did you ask yourself how it is to have sex with a witch?"

More grins were spreading - in Sirius' face, in Agent Chipman's face, while the man blushed. "I'd say the answer's obvious - I can feel it."

Sirius said, "Okay - now that we've embarrassed each other sufficiently, what else do you need to accept our statements - Harry's, in particular?"

The woman was quickest. "Mr Potter, I believe that you know what you're talking about. What's still missing - for me, I mean - could you please explain again, in terms a Muggle cop like me is used to hear, why the only reasonable method should be to send you - you alone - against this Voldemort?"

Harry took his time to prepare his summation, fully aware of its importance - the two parties in this room needed each other, needed mutual trust, and now it was make or break.

Finally, he looked up. "I think that's two questions: why not someone else against Voldemort, and why me? For the first, Voldemort has dominated the wizarding world until the day he killed my parents, and tried to kill me. He doesn't hesitate a split second to kill people, and the worst is, he's no killer by passion, for him it's so natural - he kills or argues, whatever he sees fit. His power hasn't diminished while he had to wait for a new body, he's restricted only by the knowledge that his first public crime will call me - I promised him the last time we met, and he believed me. So far, three people except myself have survived an encounter with him: Sirius here because he was used as hostage, my friend for the same reason, and our Headmaster, who's the only one powerful enough to survive such a meeting. But Dumbledore - our Headmaster - can't kill Voldemort. Nobody can, except myself."

The two agents listened silently.

"Coming to the second part, for all I know, I'm the tool of some fate which has decided that Voldemort must die. That's why he can't kill me. I mean, I don't know any natural reason, nor does anyone else. Each time we meet, I gain new powers - from my perspective, it's as if Voldemort has to prepare his own destruction by giving me these gifts. Since the last half year, I'm up to the task - by my powers and by my mental state."

Agent Ellis said, "Killing someone deliberately - Mr Potter, fate is one thing - "

Harry interrupted him. "Yes I know. I killed three people directly and two others as a result of my doing." Watching the expression in the two faces, Harry realized that - at least in such details - their database was incomplete.

Sirius stood up. "Let me fetch you new drinks, before we'll ask you the question of questions." After returning with the glasses, he sat down and looked at his American colleagues. "Ready for an oath?"

Two nods.

"Do you accept that our descriptions are as accurate as anyone, Muggle or wizard, can possibly give?"

A nod, and a "Yes."

"Do you accept that any of the standard police tactics against Voldemort - yours, mine, whichever - would result in a mess, without going into details?"

Agent Chipman said, "Yes."

Agent Ellis said, "I believe it - maybe I can accept the thought tomorrow, or in a week ... but I believe it."

Nagini still kept silent.

Sirius smiled. "Very good. Do you believe that, in order to keep your oath to your country, you have to break the rules, keep the story of Voldemort to yourself, and steal some information out of that database?"

The two looked at each other, nodded simultaneously. "Yes."

Sirius looked at his godson. "Your turn, Harry."

* * *

For the next hour, they discussed places and possibilities, methods and alternatives. According to the basic assumption, Dementor attacks would occur only in amusement parks with wizards as entertainers. So far, there were six of them - the four in which the accidents had happened, and two others. These two seemed the most natural candidates for the next attack, however there was no guarantee.

"Those parks are very similar to each other," explained Agent Ellis. "If you know one, you know all of them."

Harry shook his head. "No - unfortunately not."

The Muggles were surprised to hear that Harry had to visit a place at least once before he could apparate to that location. They seemed relieved that Apparition was far from any kind of omnipotence. So Harry would be in for a round trip through the States, using FBI Learjets, FBI helicopters, and FBI cars - together with Lupin, and this thought reminded Harry that another meeting had to follow soon.

He said, "We have to talk with our Headmaster. I need his permission to be away from the school for a while, and still more to take Remus with me - that's my partner in this plan, I mean I hope he is, but he's a teacher."

Sirius said, "He'll come; I'm sure about that."

Harry had the same feeling - and he knew that Almyra would be truly happy about this plan. Which fit just great, now that Almyra represented his only hope to straighten out terms between himself and Cho. But there was no choice.

They agreed to meet again next day in Hogwarts - the poor Muggles would need a good part of the day to reach the school, and Sirius would accompany them to make sure they didn't get lost. Then they resumed the discussion of their strategy.

The basic idea was a kind of patrol - of breathtaking dimensions. From dusk till midnight, the time period which they considered as the critical one, Harry and Lupin would take a ghost train ride, then jump to the next park, take another ride, jump to the third, and the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, then back and start over again.

Harry examined his map, which had raised pure delight in the faces of the two FBI agents. The display showed the United States with six points marked - Disney World at Orlando, Florida, then College Park near Atlanta, Georgia, next came the Cumberland Park south of Nashville, Tennessee, further Six Flags near St. Louis, Missouri, Fort Fun at Cheyenne, Wyoming, and finally Ride'n'Joy near Riverside, California - seemingly in spitting distance from Santa Monica.

Checking the wide arc these places marked across the map, and the area where it ended, Harry's heart started beating faster. So close ... and so far away; their ghost patrols would keep them busy.

Agent Chipman said, "You'll need some identification to be entitled for the next free cart if you arrive; otherwise you might have to wait in line, and we can't afford that." She examined Harry. "You'll have to wear normal clothes - er, I mean ..." She blushed.

Harry grinned. "That's fine with me, but I still wonder if I'd pass for some Muggle authority."

"Why not?" The woman looked astonished. "Because of your age? Or because of ..." Her glance hung at his forehead.

Harry grinned broader. "Imagine I'd wear a business suit. What do you see?"

Agent Chipman shrugged. "A young man."

"Yeah - with a snake around him."

"Oh ..." A short hesitation. "And you're sure this is the only way?"

Harry nodded. "She saved me more than once. You wouldn't go without your gun, would you?"

They agreed that Harry would try some camouflage, that Lupin would appear as the main authority, and that they probably bothered without need - people waiting in line to enter a ghost train were not particularly suspicious.

Many more questions remained open - for example how to establish a contact person in each park, and where to place the headquarters for the entire operation. However, all this had time, couldn't be decided here, not without the second member in the team.

Although - Harry had a clear idea where he would like to see their headquarters, the place where he and Lupin would sleep, eat, hold meetings with the FBI agents. And this place wasn't Florida, more the opposite.

* * *

Next morning, Harry informed both Dumbledore and Lupin that Sirius would arrive with two guests late in the afternoon, maybe early evening, and that a longer meeting would be required. Of course they wanted to know more, but Harry refused to answer by indicating that they should have the same advantage he'd had - listening to a story unprepared, and unbiased.

The Headmaster looked at Lupin, Lupin looked back, then both looked at Harry with some suspicion, in particular because Harry couldn't suppress a grin. So Harry assured that yes, he was deadly serious, and confessed that his grin was just a bit gloating because he himself hadn't scored any better a day ago. Maybe it was this argument what made the two teachers finally believe.

This settled, Harry headed for his final strike in British territory - the portkey to London. He was determined to reach this milestone in his project before leaving toward the States; after all, it might take weeks before he returned.

This final step had one advantage: Harry already knew the destination and didn't lose time in flying around. He took London Linkport as the target for his first try, since this was the closest point he knew.

First attempt: failure.

Second attempt: failure.

Just for a cross-check, Harry tried his farthest point so far, Milton Keynes. Failure too ... Damn, he was too excited, lacked accuracy. Couldn't he manage something of his own, without a stolen skill from a dark wizard?

Yes he could - with enough anger, remembering the previous evening with himself playing the big expert toward some Muggles who had to learn everything by themselves.

Well then, next try ... failure. God in Heaven!

Harry sat down to meditate, ignoring the cold, the muddy ground. Next moment, he remembered that there was a high-speed method of meditation - of course too late for his coat, which looked ready for a major cleaning.

Concentrate, you pretense of a wizard ... And there it was, the void, the brilliant-clear nothing. And back.

Concentrate, you stupid fool, whom Almyra called the - Bingo! Yes-oh-yes-oh-yes, sir, here we go - the London Linkport before Harry's eyes!

And now a one-timer back ... Yep! Was it really? No, still working. De-spelling, next try. And back, and the waste-basket was harmless as before.

And now The Burrow - worked immediately, the permanent one as well as the one-timer version. Harry would have to talk with Ginny, ask her where to place the permanent connection.

And, finally, the Cambridge University Hospital - no problem either. Harry could feel how his experience grew, how the routine was settling - the thought of some Muggle competition, as unrelated as it was, seemed to help a lot.

Was this how people without so many natural gifts were working? Maybe he should ask Hermione, provided he'd ever find the proper formulation for that question, heehee.

On the Hogwarts Express platform, Harry walked a few steps in the direction nobody would go, because it didn't lead anywhere, then he looked around. There - a small metal plate, with some numbers and dates. It looked perfect for Rahewa's direct link portkey.

At the hospital, Harry walked around until he found a tiny building with something technical inside, might have to do with electrical power. At the backside, he found a small grid, covering a ventilation hole in the wall. The grid looked untouched for the last twenty years, so it should be secure enough - and if not, the poor soul would see some buildings when coming out at the other side.

Harry checked it twice, then he returned to the school, just in time for lunch.

* * *

Ginny, as it turned out, wasn't interested in a permanent portkey to The Burrow. A one-timer, at occasion, yes - and for that, Harry was around, wasn't he?

Maybe not in the next time, only Harry couldn't say that, not without spilling the secret here in full public. So he just nodded, exchanging a glance with Rahewa - enough to tell her yes, there was another portkey, too, and they would meet a second after the last bite was gulped down.

Which they did - well, a few more seconds later, because first Rahewa had to reach her dormitory where two small white bundles were waiting for a walk.

Heading toward the platform, Harry studied the two dogs. "They look so incredibly clean in this mud - say, do you shower them once in a while?"

Rahewa laughed. "No ... Water isn't their closest, not the least. But I brush them."

"How often? Three times a day?"

The girl took his teasing with a smile. "Not quite ... But certainly after a walk like that - otherwise, my roommates would tell me something, and for myself too, since ..." Rahewa stopped herself, seemed slightly embarrassed.

The conclusion wasn't difficult for Harry. Looking innocently, he said, "Yeah, sure, that basket would become too muddy, especially during the night, I mean ..."

"Er - yes." Then Rahewa giggled. "Sometimes, one of the other girls tries to lure them into her bed. But they always come into mine."

They reached the platform. Harry said, "Okay - put them into your coat, or shall I take one of them?"

"No." A short whistle from Rahewas lips, and the two poodles came hurrying. Then, guided by Harry, Rahewa examined the small plate, used it, and found herself standing in the park that surrounded the hospital. Then she followed him to the grid which served as the return portkey.

"That's super. Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome. If you want to visit your mother now, I can take care of Romeo and Juliet - I don't think there are dogs allowed inside."

No they weren't, and Rahewa accepted the offer immediately. "It won't take long - she just hasn't the strength for longer visits."

The two poodles looked a bit startled when Rahewa disappeared in the building, but calmed down when Harry assured them that their mistress would be back soon, alive and unhurt. However, they wouldn't follow when he tried to walk away from the entrance.

About ten minutes later, Rahewa was back. While receiving the stormy welcome from the poodles, she glanced up. "Erm - my mother asks whether you could join her for a minute, Harry."

Not exactly what he had in mind, but he gave the only possible answer. "Yes, sure."

Rahewa told him where to find her. "Er - she looks different. The medication, you know."

He nodded and went inside, preparing himself for this encounter.

Mrs Lightfoot looked - horrible. Totally bald, the face twice as broad than the last time Harry had seen her. The skin was reddish, shining, though not in a healthy shimmer. Hearing about side-effects was one thing, seeing them quite another.

Nonetheless, the woman's eyes smiled. "Thank you for coming, Mr Potter - and for what you've built for Rahewa. That's very convenient."

"It was the first thing after I managed to reach London, Mrs Lightfoot. This was my project milestone, and now it's done."

The woman moved herself a bit more upright. "Mr Potter, this is the last time we'll see each other. I wanted to thank you for all you've done, and I wanted to ask you a question."

Unable to find words that wouldn't sound hollow, Harry just bowed.

Mrs Lightfoot smiled a bit more. "You'd qualify as a Cree any time - keeping silent if there's nothing to say. But what I wanted to ask you, er ..."

He knew already. "There are four candidates, Mrs Lightfoot. I asked all of them - no, one of them volunteered by herself."

"Who are they?"

"The family in which I live ... the parents of my girlfriend; Mrs Chang's the one who volunteered ... my godfather and his fiancé, and a woman from Texas who's teacher at Hogwarts."

"Does Rahewa know?"

Harry shook his head. "No details, no names - only my promise."

"And which of them ..."

"I thought Rahewa should pick her choice, when ..." Harry swallowed. "When the time has come."

The woman nodded. "Yes, that makes sense. Mr Potter, this knowledge is not only a comfort for me, it's ... You gave me a purpose, and that's more than I could expect."

"I'm sorry, Mrs Lightfoot - "

"No - you can't see it. What I mean is, in a little while, I'll be gone, and so far, the end was just an end, nothing else. While now - afterwards, you'll break the news to my daughter, and she'll have to take her choice - a very purposeful act ... I'm happy to know that."

"I wasn't aware, Mrs Lightfoot. It just seemed natural."

"Yes, it is - for someone who can feel the natural." The woman leaned back. "All right, Mr Potter, and now let's just pretend this was a visit like any other, okay? See you - in a while."

Harry stood up. "Okay - I'll be off the next days, so it might take some time. Bye, Mrs Lightfoot."

The woman smiled. Not knowing what he was talking about, she seemed to take Harry's remark for an artful farewell of the desired kind.

But that was fine with him.

* * *

Dumbledore and Lupin listened silently, intently, while Agent Ellis explained the background of amusement parks and what had happened in them recently, while Harry felt calmer with every minute passing, what with Fawkes on his shoulder, while Agent Chipman studied the room and the scene of Harry and this bird with a dreamlike expression.

Hearing about the victims, the Headmaster and the ex-werewolf took the same conclusion as Harry - Dementor's work, the Kiss of Death.

Agent Ellis finished, "Mr Potter had an idea what causes these Dementors to behave that way."

Heads were turning to him, so Harry explained his view of things.

Again, Dumbledore and Lupin saw no reason for disagreement.

This out of the way, Harry explained the planned deal, and that is was settled between him, Sirius, and the two FBI agents, after they had cleared some misunderstandings with the help of a certain snake. He finished, "That's what we have in mind - provided we get your permission, Professor" - he looked at Dumbledore, then at Lupin - "and provided you'll join the party - er, Prof." Then he sat waiting - expectantly but calmly, thanks to Fawkes' effect.

Dumbledore turned to Lupin. "What's your comment, Remus?"

"Makes sense ... If you let me off the hook, I'm in - interrogating a Dementor with the help of a Golden Patronus, that might be an interesting experience."

The Headmaster looked at Harry. "If you find them - how can you make sure they won't come back, or others, if those inside are killed?"

"Well - what I had in mind was to tell them, either they stop it, or we come with two Golden Patronuses to their - er, nest or whatever, to stop it once and for all."

"Do you know where to find the nest?"

"No - I hoped you'd know, Professor."

"Hmm ... There's more than one, but - yes, it might work. Since the Battle of Hogwarts, for them a Golden Patronus is an argument that's hard to resist; I'm sure about that."

Harry glanced at Lupin, then back at Dumbledore. "So we have your permission, Professor?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I? ... We have an obligation here, and afterwards - Harry, are you ready for the final confrontation?"

"Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "My feeling's the same. Well, yes, you have my permission - and we have to look how to get along without Remus, might be I'll do some classes by myself."

Harry grinned. "If Professor McGonagall would take over Charms for the time, I'd know someone for Potions."

The Headmaster smiled. "Miss Granger, right? Yes, that might be the solution - anyway, that's not your problem, Harry."

Agent Ellis said, "Mr Dumbledore, it seems as if we've achieved what we wanted, but still - somehow, I have trouble trusting my ears. All this feels a bit unreal - "

"Certainly, Mr Ellis." Dumbledore looked at the woman, back at the man. "You see a school Headmaster, sending a student and a teacher into a demon hunt, and agreeing to the idea that the teacher will return afterwards while the student is going to confront the madman in the background. But, aside from the details, this is what I've been waiting for during the last sixteen years - since Voldemort made his first attempt to kill Harry. That's why I'm better prepared than you."

Agent Chipman said, "Even so ... Do you expect him back, Mr Dumbledore?"

The Headmaster responded to the underlying accusation with a faint smile. "For a long time, I wasn't sure, Miss Chipman - no, worse, I felt pretty sure he wouldn't, and this was a terrible thought. But then, some time ago, Harry promised someone to come back, and I have to tell you, as questionable as he is in terms of rules and standards, he keeps to his promises. And therefore - yes, I expect him back."

The framework was set. Now they could talk about details.

Exploring the six amusement parks was calculated as a two-day trip, starting at Orlando, Florida, ending at Riverside, California. Agent Ellis started drafting times, dates, flight schedules -

Harry interrupted him. "Wait a second - you don't expect us to sit eight hours in an aeroplane just to reach Florida, do you?"

"No?"

"No - because we'll apparate. We can meet in Miami, or maybe in Orlando."

The man clenched his teeth. "Damn ... I'd give my left ball if I could do that."

Agent Chipman sneered at him. "Yes? Imagine it would work, then what about me? What was I supposed to give for Apparition?"

The wizards in the room had fun, finding themselves alone with that feeling.

Agent Ellis said, "We need a headquarters for this operation. Any preferences from your side? If not, I'd suggest somewhere near Washington - "

"California." It came from Harry, his voice matter-of-fact.

Agent Ellis didn't like it. "But that's at the end of the time scale - your patrols start three hours earlier in Florida."

"So?" Harry felt no intention to accept a compromise here. "It means we'll jump from California to Florida - exactly what we'll do at the end of each patrol, ten times a day ... And besides, you may place your headquarters anywhere - I'm talking about the place where we're going to stay for that time."

A sigh. "Okay ... And where in California? Just in Riverside?"

Harry looked at Lupin, saw him grin, and shrugh. "No - somewhere near the Pacific. Santa Monica, for example."

Agent Ellis smiled. "You've got a fine taste - the most expensive place along the entire coast."

Even under Fawkes' influence, this was Harry's smallest concern, thinking about this place. "Is it? Well, I can pay our expenses."

Agent Ellis looked determined. "Certainly not! Okay, Santa Monica, then."

They agreed to meet tomorrow, one o'clock p.m. local time, in the Miami Linkport. A car would wait for them - the first vehicle in a chain of cars, helicopters, Learjets, carrying them along six amusement parks toward Santa Monica.

Checking it through, Harry realized that the two FBI agents would be on the road - or in the air - for days. He looked up. "You're not losing time, are you?"

Agent Chipman answered. "We don't have time. This afternoon, we got a call. There's a fifth victim."

* * *

Next day, Harry was busy informing friends and teachers that he would be off for a few days - Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Rahewa, further McGonagall, Snape, and Samantha. Asked about the purpose, he said, "Hunting Dementors - together with Lupin."

One teacher was missing in the list. She would be informed by now - even so, Harry was waiting for a conversation of which he felt sure it would come. And it came - after lunch, when Almyra invited him into her office.

When he entered, Almyra looked at him, looked, just kept looking. Finally, she said, "To make it short, Harry - I'd like to hug you, kiss you, and kill you. Which sequence do you prefer?"

"Erm - how you said it, that sounds about right."

Seeing his honest face, Almyra didn't know whether to laugh or to be angry. "You know why, don't you?"

"Sure - hugging me, and wishing me luck, because we're going to hunt Dementors. Kissing me, and wishing me still more luck, because I'm going to enter the lion's den, so to speak ..."

Almyra was unable to avoid a grin.

"... and killing me, and wishing me to hell, because I got Remus involved."

Almyra nodded. "Exactly - ten points for Gryffindor - "

Harry took his chance. "Now, or posthumously?"

"Stop joking! It's not funny!"

Harry suppressed the remark that it wasn't him who had started the joke - somehow, Almyra seemed not in the mood to appreciate such details. Instead, he said, "It's only for the patrol - and for the raid against the Dementor nest, if that ever happens ... What comes afterwards, hunting Voldemort, is my job alone."

"As if that isn't enough!" Almyra glared at him. "And the way you describe it - listening to you, the patrol's just a preparation, and the real thing comes afterwards, and it looks just ridiculous shouting at you - "

"No, it isn't. Al, I've been waiting for this conversation since yesterday - no, since the meeting in Sirius' office. It isn't ridiculous - in a way, the patrol's more dangerous because we could be killed both, while with Voldemort - he can't kill me, so that's the safer part."

"You have a funny way of giving comfort, Harry."

"Yes, but I don't know any other. And you can visit him every day, if you want, and you can combine it with some other visits, if you want."

"Yeah - thanks to a clever young Potter who made sure to select the right place for that." Still angry though, Almyra's face showed some approval.

"Of course, and somehow, for me, that's the most scary part - I'd gladly accept any help I can get, if you know what I mean."

Almyra gasped. "Now that's really impudent! Getting Remus for help, getting me for help - that's all, or something else?"

Harry smiled. "Aside from that - just what you had in mind initially when we came here. Maybe save the killing, if you please."