Harry Potter and the Thunderstruck Muggles

The Hogwarts routine, ruling pattern for the last seven years, was giving Harry trouble - astonishingly much actually, considering the short time he'd been away in a luxury hotel. At closer inspection, though, it became obvious why.

The first problem, gone after some nights, was the day rhythm. Harry suffered from a jet lag and from the change in his working hours. Expressed in Hogwarts time, he had worked from ten in the evening till eight in the morning - exactly the time Hogwarts students were expected to sleep.

Then, at a deeper level, he encountered something like a loss of purpose, combined with a feeling that his new goal was still beyond reach. He felt like someone standing in line with many others, standing on top actually, pushed forward by those behind - while just in front of him opened an abyss, the other side too far apart to be reached with a step, even with a jump. Almost finished, so close to the end, Harry found himself confronted with the risk of failing thoroughly.

His Golden Patronus, for example. It had worked to the greatest success, only that now, after Dumbledore's journey, Harry felt almost sure that he'd never again find the need for conjuring up another Centaur. A tool used until yesterday, and now it seemed outdated, purposeless.

Then the classes ... Regular schedules hardly offered a meaning for him. Yes, there was still Social Ethics, with Binns going broadside and longside about Muggles versus Magicals - the ghost had gladly adopted this new term because it included males, females, and ghosts better than any other. For Harry, however, there was little reason in listening - he might have felt more at home in the teacher's position, or as a student presenting the results of a large project, except he didn't feel like investing any work here.

And otherwise ... Potions and Defence against the Dark Arts together stood for his - and Ron's - Poison Balls project. This project was completed, checked off, an issue of the past. Charms, with a small link to Defence, had meant apparating, pursuing, and portkey programming - mastered altogether, checked off as well. Yes, there was still the nominal goal of summoning, only this would be out of reach in the short time left, and nobody would blame Harry for reducing his initial project scope - least of all his teacher, who had benefitted from such a nice chain of portkeys.

Which left Transfiguration together with Care of Magical Creatures - and here the feeling of purpose beyond reach grew dominant. Harry had no clue how to master the last step - from the sphere state to a living dragon. And besides, he couldn't really try it in a classroom, could he?

So what to do all day long?

Biding his time, waiting for news from Francesco Lopez. Biding his time, waiting for some business manager to return from a trip, to be found in her office again. Biding his time, waiting for an inspiration from Heaven how to transfigure into a dragon ... Failing that, waiting for a kick in the small of his back - not from Heaven but from his young teacher.

He was so awfully good at waiting.

* * *

Harry's friends, in sharp contrast, looked happy to see him back, pleased to learn that Harry could program a portkey to any place on earth, and expectant to hear everything about his Dementor patrol, about amusement parks, about life in luxury, Sheraton style.

It filled some time, unfortunately not during classes. Then Ron asked, "Say, are these portkey plates still in place?"

"Oops, you're right, I should go and dismount them, before someone by accident - "

"No, not yet - I'd like to have a tour through those places, doing a ghost ride, just for fun. What do you think, would you do me the favour?"

Another tour, at two o'clock in the night, just when Harry had settled back to British time? But the idea had appeal.

"And how do you reach the starting point? You haven't been there before, so - "

Ron looked at Harry with disbelief. "Aren't you the master of all portkeys?"

"Aarrgh!" Harry clapped his forehead. "That was a bad one! Yes, of course, I should get used to it at least as quickly as anyone else."

Hermione said, "You will, Harry, and I'll help you in that. About ten days from now, we'll travel together to Haiti - with a very special potion for a very special candidate. He's been tricking us for the longest time, but this time he's in for a nasty surprise."

"What is it?"

Hermione looked devious. "I figure I've found out what's wrong with our Monsieur Armodéc, and why the other potions didn't work - and I hope you don't mind if I'll keep it to myself, until we're there." She smiled sweetly. "You know - this way, you don't have to hide your knowledge."

That was fine with Harry. Whatever Hermione had in mind, this would be his last visit on the Ile de la Tortue. Funny - until recently, he had waited for the end of his duty with growing impatience, while now it struck him as just another purpose lost.

Next evening, at supper, Ron asked, "Harry - is tonight okay with you?"

"What?"

His friend suppressed a sharp remark, glanced around carefully. "You know - what we talked about yesterday."

"Oh ..." Startled, Harry followed Ron's example. What he saw were mostly innocent Gryffindors, not knowing what they were talking about - with some notable exceptions, not counting Ron.

Hermione, for example, who knew quite well, not caring much, which was somehow remarkable - until taking into account that her own ticket to Haiti was involved, and in the last seven years even Hermione had learned how to bend rules and consciences to mutual benefit.

Ginny, for example, who apparently had been broadcasted through a brotherly channel - a bit to Harry's surprise, but then he realized that this was part of Ron's changed attitude toward his sister. The change had developed during the recent months, after Ron became aware that Ginny's trust and confidence in a brother had a new and challenging alternative.

And, farther down the Gryffindor table, Harry saw a younger girl with burning-red ears. This could only be translated to yes, Rahewa knew something was going on, maybe didn't know exactly what, and wasn't sure at all whether she would be included.

Harry turned to Ron. "Yes, of course, I'll summarize the project." Then he looked pointedly at Ginny. "Us two and you two - right?"

"Huh? ... Oh, yes, of course." This was followed by a deep grin.

Farther down the table, two ears seemed to glow even stronger - well, at least the visible one.

Hermione smiled. "You're an awfully bad company for little girls, Harry."

"That's funny - someone told me older girls are an awfully bad company for me."

Poor Ron, who just had been chewing full-mouthed, tried to avoid a disaster - with the worst result possible. Most of the food spilled over the table, while the rest had found a way into Ron's throat, so he was kept coughing and laughing alternately.

* * *

The four adventurers met at two o'clock in the Entrance Hall, to sneak out noiselessly, wandering to the Hogwarts Express platform, and keeping their voices to an excited whisper until they were sufficiently far away.

Examining the selected lamp pole, Harry thought, if he'd fail now, tomorrow morning it would be Hermione's turn to choke on a joke, hearing about that. But of course it worked, and a minute later the four of them stood in front of the ghost train building of Ride'n'Joy, Riverside.

One of the maintenance people had noticed them. He came hurrying, shouting from a distance, when they tried to enter the building. Then the man recognized Harry and relaxed. His expression changed to a grin when one of Harry's twenty-dollar bills, brought for such and other purposes, changed hands.

Inside, Harry turned to his friends. "Let's jump to Disney World first. It's the largest, and you should have your ride first before looking behind the stage - otherwise you'd spoil the fun."

And so they did, to enter the next two carts, after Harry had shown himself, his identification card from the FBI, and - less obvious - two other of these nice green pieces of heavy-duty paper. Ron and Ginny took the first cart, Harry and Rahewa the second.

Harry's young partner in this journey was squeaking a lot, enjoying the opportunity as much as she could - for once, Rahewa was supposed to be scared, frightened, horrified. When Harry saw her beaming face after coming out through the last swing door, he knew that one ride hadn't been enough. He said, "Let's do the other in Riverside, okay? That's the second largest."

Then, stepping from point to point, Harry took care to deactivate the plates, however without dismounting them. What for - he wouldn't know what to do with them, and not even Rahewa was enough of a souvenir hunter to demand a plate.

Back in Riverside, Harry learned that each of the three others wanted another ride - Rahewa for the thrill, Ginny to see how another park had made things differently, or so she said, and Ron to check how it was made, after he'd seen the inside. At least that was his justification.

And so they stormed two other carts, after Harry had oiled their path to the top of the line, certainly saving half an hour waiting time.

Harry was sitting relaxed, in the sovereign manner of the seen-it-all, and therefore caught by a total surprise when the world suddenly turned upside down. The local wizard had implemented Dumbledore's trick from the patrol exam!

Feeling Rahewa's hands clenched at his body, Harry whispered, "It's okay, this is a magical trick. Remember what I told you about my patrol exam, how Cho crashed into the tree?"

Rahewa calmed a bit. "Oh ... That's how it feels?"

Outside, she glanced at Harry. "I ... I have to apologize to Cho, only she doesn't know."

"Why's that?"

"When you told me about your patrol, I was thinking, how clumsy she's been, crashing into a tree just because the sky was suddenly on the other side. Erm - well, I'm a bit wiser now."

Then, of course, they had to pay a visit to the sweets shop - after all, what was an amusement tour without that? Walking back, Harry found his path blocked by a bulky figure who said, "Good evening, Mr Pritchard."

Agent Chipman.

"Oh, hello, Miss Chipman. Erm - yes, I realized that I'd forgotten something, and I took the opportunity to show my friends the places. I'd like to introduce you to Ron Weasley ... Ginny Weasley ... Rahewa Lightfoot ... This is agent Chipman."

The woman grinned. "My name tells your friends enough, huh?"

Harry blushed a bit, remembering their first meeting. "Er - yes, but I left out some details when I told them."

Agent Chipman looked pleased. "Your manners are flawless, Mr Potter - although the local wizard has a different opinion."

The woman had come for two reasons. One was the local wizard's new implementation, unparalleled so far in the other parks. The second - this wizard had reported something that looked like a trap - Harry's portkeys.

"I'm sorry, madam - but I just deactivated them. They're still in place, but without effect."

The smile faded from the woman's face. "Do you think you'll need them again?"

"Oh, no - I just didn't bother dismounting them, that's all. No, if our Headmaster says they agreed, then you can take it as a given."

"That's good to hear." The smile returned. "Did you get our mail?"

"No, not yet. Mail to Hogwarts - I mean, Muggle mail, that may take a few days more. Anything urgent?"

"No, not urgent." The woman seemed not inclined to tell Harry more. "Okay then, have a good trip."

Ginny and Rahewa wanted to have a look at the roller coaster, which at this time of the day presented an impressive half-mile of lights downhill before the track meandered through breathtaking loops and curves. There was little doubt - even for these two members of a Quidditch team, a ride would have been due, if not for the long line of waiting people. And Harry's status didn't extend to this ride.

So, after having finished all sweets, and after letting them swim in some soda, they stood in a very short line until Harry had prepared the portkey home to Hogwarts, back into bed.

* * *

What agent Chipman had talked about, without saying anything, arrived in Hogwarts two days later. Considering the fact that it had been sent via regular Muggle mail - rather than Magical Tours service, not to mention owl mail - the journey of these letters had been quick. From the layers of envelopes, Harry could figure out why - a merciful Muggle soul somewhere in England had passed the letters over to the Ministry of Magic, and some clerk there had ordered two owls for delivering them.

One letter was addressed to Harry, the other - as he could guess and was confirmed later - to Lupin. But first Harry had to pay the owl - with a knut more than usual, for this totally un-owlish format, earning him a reproachful stare from two large amber eyes.

Harry chuckled inwardly, imagining what Lupin might have heard from Almyra if she had noticed, then he opened the letter.

Nice words to read, really. The U.S. government thanked them for their services in protecting American citizens, and asked whether they would accept a medal of honour. Apparently, this question was a formalism - the author hardly expected a decline.

Well, he - no, was a she - might be in for a surprise, because Harry had no intention to appear in any public ceremony that might be read about, or heard about, near Boston, Massachusetts. He only didn't know how to refuse politely - after all, he couldn't say that two FBI agents were already rewarding him and, for this purpose, probably broke rules by the dozen.

So he went to Lupin.

"What? First you drag me into this crazy adventure, and now you force me to refuse this honour? Harry, I'll never get another chance - I'd be the only werewolf with a U.S. medal on his chest!"

Harry's consternation felt so strong that he didn't even think of using his haragei. Therefore, it was only Lupin's grin - after a moment - which told him he'd been teased.

"Okay, Harry - I'll write them, in your name and in mine, and I'll tell them something nice about Hogwarts policy and friendship between Muggles and Magicals, or whatever. But you owe me."

"I owe you anyway - with or without a medal."

"That's your view of things." Lupin looked pleased. "But now, I can rightfully claim an ob on you - in the size of a lost medal."

Harry could live with that, considerably better than with the medal itself, more exactly with a press report of such an event. Still, he was asking himself how much of Lupin's reaction had been a joke, and how much his friend would have appreciated this public praise for outstanding services. Of course, there was no sense in questioning Lupin.

But he knew someone else to talk with.

Almyra said, "It's both, Harry. On one side, Remus would never compromise you in your fight against Voldemort - that far, it was a joke. But look at it from his perspective: a werewolf, mistrusted for decades, had to fight for respect even from his colleagues, is suddenly offered a medal. For someone like you, who's collecting Hogwarts awards like other people stamps - "

"I'm not collecting them! But yes, I see what you mean."

Almyra smiled. "You shouldn't worry - it's not a real problem, but it explains why he feels entitled to claiming an ob on you." She grinned. "So what - for all I know, you're dealing with obs all year long, aren't you?"

"Yes - and I take them seriously, in particular those which come in the shape of a Zen riddle."

"Where's the riddle here?"

"Remember Voldemort's real name?" Now Harry grinned. "No - that was a joke. The Zen riddle is this, because Voldemort's involved, we can't go and fetch our medals. But without him, there'd never have been a chance to earn them ... And Zen riddles are what I really collect - even at the cost of an ob."

"I wonder if he'll ever claim it."

"He won't, but that's part of the true ob's nature, as he knows pretty well - and he knows that I know, which means it's my job ..." Reconsidering Almyra's explanation, Harry nodded. "Yes, that fits - totally unremarkable on the surface, but underneath it's really the burden that weighs more than anything else."

"My God!" Almyra looked startled. "Aren't you exaggerating a bit?"

"No, I'm not. You know, it's none of these simple cases, like saving someone's life - it's just a minor issue, could almost be neglected ... Shigura would be proud of Remus, to have found this fine nuance."

Hearing this reference to Harry's weeks in Japan, Almyra's mind changed the subject in an interesting circle, however easy to follow. "By the way - how's your planning for some other nuances, maybe less fine?"

"I'm waiting - first she has to come back."

But Almyra's question had been very informative for Harry. She hadn't known that Cho was on a two-week journey, which meant the journey hadn't been planned much in advance. Which was good to know, if only he could see what it was telling him.

---

Then another thought resurfaced in Harry's mind. "Almyra - can we try another trance? Maybe I can locate Voldemort. I spend more than thousand galleons a day for Pinkerton agents, and if - "

Almyra gasped. "That expensive?"

"Well, it's quite a territory they have to scan. And if I could see anything, or feel - any information would be helpful."

Almyra didn't like this idea very much, was afraid Harry would do some damage - maybe to himself, maybe to his efforts. She wasn't ready to accept his argument - that if he could detect Voldemort now, he would detect him at any other place as well. "Assume you detect him, Harry - with a scene in some house, and you have no chance to locate it ... That's how it's been before, right? But then he knows that you're looking for him, and you've lost your advantage."

"No - quite the opposite. If I can detect him, and he sees me, and he knows that I can't identify the place, he feels sure. Actually, who said he doesn't know I'm looking for him?"

"But didn't you say ... Isn't this the reason why Remus can't get his medal?"

"Not exactly. One thing is to know I'm looking for Voldemort - in some sense, this is true all the time, or so he might feel. Another thing is to know where he is, or in which region. Marie-Christine thought he might have moved to the States to get away from me, for better hide."

"Marie-Christine, huh?" Almyra eyed Harry with suspicion in her face. "When did you talk with her?"

"When some other people had - er, let's say, breakfast in bed - understandably so, I might add, perfectly reasonable in such a luxury hotel, I'd have done the same, if I'd been in a comparable - "

"Okay, okay!" Almyra stared at Harry. "Cho's totally right - funny it took me so long to realize."

"To realize what?"

"She says, if you argue with Harry, make sure there isn't the slightest glitch in your position - otherwise, he'll come over you like a landslide ... Other people would have answered my question with something as simple as 'Sunday morning' - notice that the essential information is exactly the same, while this version lacks all the underlying accusations - "

Harry giggled. "Accusation? Who's accusing whom to lie under?"

Almyra snorted with laughter. "C'mon, let's go trancing you - that's the only way I can imagine closing that mouth of yours."

They were sitting in her office, comfortably enough, so Harry just kept seated while Almyra drew her wand.

"Mesmerisio!"

---

He reached the void instantly, felt at home in this nowhere, not surprisingly so after mastering the sphere state that often. Was it the same void? He couldn't decide - how to compare two spaces of nowhere, empty both of them? It didn't matter; he wasn't here for scientific purposes.

Sensing around, Harry found nothing - very much as expected; the first moments in the void always felt like a quiet room entered from a noisy street. Relaxing did the trick, and extending his perception toward this endlessness ... The void had a smooth surface, like velvet, only thinner - not hiding the slightest dent, maybe more like silk ... There was no dent ... There was a slow, quiet beat.

Should this be Voldemort? Most unlikely so - not this calm, steady emanation.

Harry tried to locate it, to get a bearing. But there was nothing to help in his orientation, totally different from previous experiences.

He dropped any thought in terms of topology. This was no space; thinking that way would only confuse him. It was a level of perception, or maybe existence. Harry focused his self toward this beat, until it filled his mind. Then he connected his self and touched it.

Darkness ... Not quite - the dimmest shade of green light, coming from a small display ... An alarm clock! The clock stood on a bedstand, and suddenly Harry knew where he was - and now the contours of black in a dark grey made sense, confirmed his recognition.

It was a hotel room - somewhere in Japan, where it was around four o'clock in the morning, with normal people in the deepest phase of their sleep, like this room's guest, a head almost hidden under the cover, a long black mane partly inside, partly outside.

Cho.

Would she hear him? Would she see him, coming awake? Harry examined the head, the contours under the cover - amazing how much you could recognize in the light from a digital clock ... A painful longing was filling his heart.

The head moved, then the entire body, and Harry heard a muffled sound. She was dreaming.

"Sleep well, my love."

He had whispered the words, barely audible - still, Harry saw her twist, any moment she might come awake, and then ... Quickly, he disconnected.

Back in the void, he couldn't sense anything. Where was his own self? Where was Almyra's office?

A void was no space, he reminded himself, so nobody would get lost here - it was a level of perception, and all he had to do was regaining a perception of ... what?

Of course - his own physical reality. Moments later, Harry's senses filled with the feeling of his own body, then Almyra's office sprung into his vision, a harsh light blinding his sight.

"Ouch ..." Slowly, inch by inch, Harry let his arm fall back, which had been raised to protect his eyes.

Almyra sighed. "Pheew, that's been a long one. Harry, if I'd known how to explain this, I would have called for help - "

"Why? How long ..." Looking at his watch, Harry gasped - more than half an hour had passed since Almyra's spell had sent him into this trance.

"Yeah, right ... But then you were smiling, just enough to stop me worrying. You haven't seen Voldemort, have you?"

"No - not the slightest trace of him."

Almyra's face was a mirror of her curiosity. "For a failure, you look astonishingly pleased - which might give me an idea what you've found, or seen, or whom you've met."

"If meeting means talking with anyone awake, I met nobody." Harry grinned. "What I saw was a dark room, and a sleeping figure."

Almyra, less accustomed to time zones, looked bewildered. "Dark room? Where is it dark now?"

"In a Japanese hotel suite, for example."

* * *

Driven by his own curiosity, as much as by a young teacher who kept reminding him that his goal was just a transfiguration away, Harry made another visit in the dragon camp near Ellesmere. Without expressing it in words, not even toward himself, he nourished a hope, more a daydream: that he just had to play with the dragons for a while and then, suddenly, he would find the transit to the same shape.

Rex warned him. "Harry, old clawfoot, be careful. The young ones have just no discipline - they burn you from sheer joy, they're so full of high spirits that breathing fire is their only way to calm down."

Playful they were, yes - as you'd expect from young children, chasing each other, fooling around, attracted by everything, quickly losing concentration, only that each of these chickens had the size of a small truck.

Harry said hello to Carrie - hoping that the young ones had learned not to burn their mother, this way avoiding whatever dragons used to teach their children - so when keeping close to Carrie's head, he would be safe.

It worked - quite well, actually. The young ones came along, curious. Harry could touch them and talk with them. He wondered if they could remember him, that he'd been the source of food once or twice. Maybe it was just Carrie's behaviour - she accepted him, and after all, humans were nothing strange.

Then Harry said hello to Samuel and asked him what he thought of a little flight.

The dragon didn't understand, or pretended not to.

To make it a bit clearer, Harry mounted his Steel Wing and danced up and down through the air.

Whether it was his reputation in the eyes of the other males, or an impulse to show off in front of the young ones - whatever, Samuel spread his majestic wings and joined Harry in the air.

The two other males gave a damn, while the four child dragons seemed quite impressed. They were staring skywards, their eyes following Samuel and that small dot which kept circling around the large body.

Samuel, satisfied with this demonstration, touched down.

The small dot, usually called Harry, swerved down until he was flying at tree top level over the young ones. And really - they tried to join him!

It was little more than a helpless fluttering, a jump of a few yards, sailing down to the ground. Then, one of them managed a bit more, caught some height, had reached about forty feet when - from the unfamiliar perspective or from exhaustion - he lost his courage.

Confronted with the frightening view and the loss of ground under his feet, the small dragon tried to hide. This reflex was as natural as unfortunate, because making himself as small as possible meant folding his wings - with the inevitable result. The animal didn't exactly crash down like a stone, simply because its strength was insufficient to fold its wings against the carrying airstream, but it was a remarkable bump-down.

And now, for the first time, Harry could hear the sound of a wailing dragon chicken: unusually loud and shrill, while otherwise not different from any other child after having done a hard fall.

Carrie came hurrying, and there was little doubt - her eyes looked angrily at Harry; she was blaming him.

And she was right. Without thinking, Harry touched down and reached the hurt bundle in truck size to put his hands behind the small ears.

"I'm sorry - my mistake, but I'll repair the damage." Then he sent the strongest wave of comfort he could muster.

A little squeak, then the wailing faded.

Harry kept his efforts for two minutes before he stopped, patting his patient. "Okay, shorty, c'mon - try your legs, you've survived."

The small dragon did as ordered, although probably from his own impulse. After a few careful steps, realizing that the pain was gone, he waddled to his siblings, where he was welcomed with snorts of smoke.

Harry glanced over to Carrie, who had watched. "All right, old girl - you see, I stand to my mistakes. But I won't try again - until you've taught them that they have to keep their wings open."

The angry stare was gone. These eyes were quite articulate, they could communicate well without words. For an instant, Harry felt reminded of Ma Weasley.

And now was the time. He made his try.

He could feel it - he reached the sphere state, seemed to hold it longer than ever before, and everything was right, the path was open ... Except that his dragon cure had drained more power than expected - he was just too weak to finish. Next instant, Harry was back in his own shape.

Even so - for him, it didn't count as a failure. This feeling of right had been something new. After returning to Hogwarts, Harry had to wait after classes before he could discuss it with Almyra.

She listened to his description. "Yes, I think you're right on track there. Pity you've lost so much strength." Then Almyra smiled. "Curing a dragon baby - did it ever cross your mind that the mother might have been angry enough to toast you?"

"Carrie? No, not really. It wasn't that bad, and I figure she knew what I was doing."

"We must have been out of our minds, Harry, to start such a project, but now we're so close. Unless this is another Zen riddle."

"Huh?"

"Yes - without sending mental waves to a dragon, you can't find the transit, but after having done so, you're too weak to transfigure."

"Oh - no, hopefully not. If I can remember that feeling, after having recovered ... It's a step forward."

"Yes, definitely." Almyra looked expectantly. "And now that you've managed with one female dragon - "

"I might try with another one. I will, Al - as soon as she's back from her trip, and has found a day to settle."

Almyra grinned. "Maybe you shouldn't wait that day. Who knows, that might make the difference."

* * *

Harry didn't think so. And he considered Cho's office not as the proper place for this meeting - not that close to some phones which might call at the wrong moment, not in this territory. Yes, it was open all day long, as he'd been told ... Then he knew what to do.

Next afternoon, he apparated to Santa Monica. Jesamine confirmed that yes, Cho was expected back day after tomorrow. With this information, Harry could finish a short letter, which he put into Jesamine's box for internal mail.

Four days later, a quarter past noon local time, he was sitting at a table in the Sheraton Grillroom - waiting. His invitation had said twelve thirty. If Cho would come, he would meet her, face to face, in a few minutes. If not ...

The table was placed in a corner, hidden behind a half-height wall, probably the best table in that restaurant. It blocked Harry's view toward the entrance, while not his haragei - he felt Cho approaching, felt very much the same as inside himself - expectation, and quite some tension.

He watched how the waiter moved her chair, received her order - a dry sherry - and disappeared. It gave him time to study her appearance - black jacket, grey skirt, pink blouse. The pink was pretty close to flaming red, perfectly suited for the long string of green stones around her neck. Had to be jade.

"Hello, Cho. You look - impressive."

She smiled. "I did my very best to reach this effect." She examined him. "And you'd pass for one of these young billionaires any time."

Harry looked astonished.

"Yes - sitting in the most expensive restaurant of town as if it's their kitchen, and giving a damn for their clothes ... You need a new dress, Harry."

This was exactly what he needed - criticism from her, in particular about something as unimportant as ... Just before the thought could boil up, Harry remembered their encounter in the Hogwarts Express, Cho's remarks, and he knew - it was just nervousness.

And besides - Cho was right, Gerry's piece had suffered from bad treatment. Then the thought crossed Harry's mind that clothes might be not that unimportant, not for Cho. He said, "A few days ago, I was sitting here in jeans and an oversized leather jacket, and the waiters didn't even blink."

"That explains why you're sitting there as if you'd been caught slightly overdressed - and it's proof that the waiters here are really first-class, or maybe it had to do with the people who booked your rooms. I heard about your - er, activities ... from different sources."

Harry smiled. "Two, or more?"

"Two - and the end of the story's still unknown to me. I've heard about two - er, visitors."

"We had some more - six more twin teams, one in each park, almost simultaneously. Then Lupin contacted Dumbledore, who paid a visit to deliver a certain - er, promise. Since then, it has stopped."

They were interrupted by the waiter, who took their orders - salmon and rice for Cho, the biggest steak in the list for Harry, plus a lot of french fries and a lot of salad.

Hearing his order, Cho stared. "Where do you store these quantities, Harry? That sounded like a family plate, rather than a lunch for a single person."

"I was spending the last weeks mostly outside, and it's winter in England. While some days ago, I had to cure a baby dragon - that drains a lot of energy."

Then Harry became aware - Cho didn't know about his transfiguration project, or if so, then not about his target shape. He was instinctively sure that Almyra hadn't told her. However, Cho's expression showed no surprise - for her, this seemed one of those tasks you might encounter in the company of a Texan teacher.

---

Harry asked, "How was the food in Japan?"

"Basically excellent ..." Cho grinned, "If you took the right choice."

"And how was the trip otherwise?"

"Quite successful. Of course, at first I had trouble with the jet lag, was confusing day and night ..."

"But then you got accustomed."

"Yes, sure." Next instant, Cho glanced at him suspiciously. "Why do you ask - if that's been a question?"

"Er - just so. I mean, you don't jump through time zones as often as I do."

Cho wasn't buying his explanation, Harry could see it in her face. And of course, he knew what was startling her - without knowing how it had been for herself.

Cho said, "I also had a bit trouble with the style of conversation there - always at two levels, the words themselves and what they really mean. Maybe that's why I can't help thinking ... You adapted to that style quite well, didn't you?"

How many levels were implied in this question? "Yes, I think so."

"But I'd prefer the Californian style - straight into the face. So, if you were trying to ask something else - it was a business trip, and I travelled alone."

"I know." Seeing Cho's worried look, Harry added quickly, "Jesamine told me. I tried to visit you at the end of our action here, but you had alread left."

The explanation wasn't enough to dispel her doubts, but for some reason, Harry avoided to tell her about his visit in the dark of the night, and - maybe for similar reasons - Cho avoided to dig deeper. She asked, "What about your travels?"

"Almost done. My portkey project's completed - I can make a portkey to any location on earth. In a few days, I'll create one for Hermione, and introduce her to her candidates - then it's done."

Watching, Harry saw how Cho suppressed an instant reply. After a moment, she said, "Very handy, these portkeys. You can jump wherever you want, and you can take your company with you - even someone who cannot apparate."

"Provided I've been there before." Then Harry realized Cho's remark to its full extent. "Tell me - has this been a Californian statement, or a Japanese one?"

"Maybe a Chinese one."

The waiter arrived with their hors d'oeuvres - some tiny pieces on a large plate for Cho, another large plate for Harry, except that it was full with salad, including tuna, eggs, anchovis.

He started to eat, stopped. "Yes, it's very convenient ... I can establish them for other people, between points they have to travel often. It's just a matter of asking - or maybe not even that ..."

"Like, for example?"

Now this was more Californian style - her words and her expression. Not changing his own voice, Harry said, "Rahewa, for example. She has a link between the train platform and the Cambridge Hospital."

"Oh ..."

Harry remembered Almyra's remark. Did he play landslide against Cho's position? He wasn't aware - but then, he hadn't been aware at other occasions.

---

Now Cho asked, "And what's filling your time and your freedom otherwise?"

Harry saw his chance, took it instantly. "Work, mostly. But now the work is almost done, and the freedom feels empty. That's why I'm here."

Silence on the other side of the table. Cho couldn't even pretend to be busy with her food - the few pieces were gone. Then she looked up. "You're not looking for a job, are you?"

Harry examined this answer, which was a question, with all his senses. No doubt - Cho was trying to gain more time, maybe also more information. Well then - he was ready to give her both, and if this was possible only in his landslide style, he couldn't help.

"No - I get lots of offers, recently, for jobs and other relationships. The last came from Pinkerton, from someone pretty high in the ranks - from what I know, he's one of the owners. But I still have the same job as before, at least till summer - I'm a Hogwarts student. And I still have the same task to perform, although now with the help of Pinkerton agents ..."

Cho was waiting for him to continue.

"... But with some luck, it's done in a few weeks - months, at the most ... And how's your business?"

Cho twitched a bit - apparently, she hadn't expected this change of subject, or delay of the essential point. But then she took his offer with some relief.

"It's going great - we grow faster than expected, actually we're quite ahead of our original planning." She blushed a bit. "A major factor has been that we got some - er, financial capacity not so long ago, which came at a critical point, and that's why we could make a quantum leap."

The waiter arrived with two other plates. As before, Cho's was barely covered while Harry's own seemed hardly enough to hold all the food.

Glancing at it, Cho grinned. "Talking about capacities - "

"That's my supper, don't forget; my last meal has been eight hours ago. And talking about finances - I've found out that I should have done it in the beginning."

"Done what?"

"The money - giving it as a loan was a mistake, it ought to have come as a present, or donation, whatever."

"Why?"

"Because ... I'm not the right person to be rich, and to play rich man's games. Look what happened - I'm great at spending money, awful lots of them, and as long as I keep to that habit, things work better - like with the Goblin Request. Even now, I'm spending several thousand galleons a day, couldn't imagine a better use for that money. It was an attempt to bribe me, only I didn't realize it immediately." Harry grinned. "But I've found a way to spend it - nobody can spend a million quicker than I."

Cho nodded. "A bribe, yes indeed ... And when it's gone?"

"Then I'll look for a rich woman." Harry looked into her eyes. "I know someone who'd fit - from my side of things."

"And who's the ..." Cho stopped, unable to finish the joke.

After a moment of silence, Harry felt the time right to ask the question for which he had come. "Cho - what's been the reason that we couldn't meet for such a long time? You know, when you started Groucho."

"It's ..." Cho stopped, spoke again. "There isn't a single reason - or maybe there is, except that it has so many aspects. When I left Hogwarts, I wanted to find my own position, and I had this picture, this idea - and two other people who'd help me - they were perfect because they had their own skill but not the same - er, ambition ... I wanted to have the thing settled, and running, before ..."

She stopped again, looked at Harry. "I can tell you why. I wanted to be my own self - not a rich father's daughter, and not the girl at the side of the wizard who defeated Voldemort, and who's going to destroy him soon."

---

Cho dropped her fork, continued before Harry could speak, not registering that he was keeping silent on purpose.

"I felt free - for the first time really free to do what I wanted to do. But that wasn't the main factor, it was just ... But then things went awfully wrong. I needed help, and called you, and you came. I hated myself for needing your help, and I hated you for the efficiency by which you solved our problems. With the money, with Helix, with the negotiation ... Then I thought - why can't I do it by myself, I ought to keep you outside, but it just didn't work ... And all I managed was to accept your help in the critical situations while at the same time I've been punishing you and myself for not being able to separate one from the other."

"I'm not - "

Her hand jerked up. "No - let me finish. At some point, I realized where my perception was wrong. Yes, I was competing against my father - you were totally right in that. And I was fighting against a fate, the fate which made you the one that you are. But there was no reason to fight against you, because - you didn't play power games, no, you simply were you, the most powerful wizard, trained for the last seven years, and just by accident, all your powers were quite helpful to move Groucho around the corners." Cho grimaced. "Well, not Groucho alone - you've been helping other people too. Anyway, I drove it too far, and when ..." She looked at him. "You know when I realized all that? When the lawyer arrived with the papers. I wouldn't have thought it possible until the day before - my business ideas are formed by my father, of course, and I'm enough like him. Something like that, giving up two million dollars just to make something clear ..."

Cho swallowed. "It has made something clear - for me. I've been fighting a phantom that - no, it does exist, but it's not you."

Harry knew what she was talking about. He had learned to accept this phantom, sitting on his shoulders like Fawkes but with inverse effects, ruling his life, steering his own decisions as well as those of other people - Dumbledore, for example ... Small wonder that even someone as close to him as Cho failed to separate one from the other.

He looked up. "What about your father?"

A beaming appeared in Cho's face. "The fight's almost over. He has challenged me - over years, and now the challenge's countered, I'd say. Besides - he's a merchant, I mean he likes to trade, while I've found out that I'm a manufacturer - playing with stocks and bonds is useful sometimes, but what I really like to see is a product - spectors, movies ..."

Harry grinned.

Cho blushed. "I know that I'm mixing things, that's what I just tried to explain - "

He interrupted her. "No, I wasn't teasing you. I bought a spector for the Weasleys, and although this isn't a Groucho model, I'm one of your best customers for the dance course." He told the story of his Christmas present, and that Fleur would receive the complete sequence.

Cho said, "You see, I was right - she has presence in a spector movie."

"Definitely - she has presence in real life, too."

"The same's true for some other ..." Cho stopped herself. "I've answered your question. What do you think now?"

"Hmm ... I can't separate myself from my role and my powers; I'd fail as badly as you did. I don't feel pride to be the one, to have killed some people already, but I've found out that being gifted spoils you, and how it feels to learn something through hard work. This portkey project - it's something I didn't inherit from Voldemort. I had to train hard, day after day, week after week, and finally, it worked." Harry stared at Cho. "And I had to pay a price."

"What price?"

"I had to finish the chain of portkeys across the six amusement parks, and it took me several days. Then I had to visit Pinkerton - and when the work was done, and I came to Groucho, you were gone."

"But I came back."

"Yes - only that in the meantime I had returned to Hogwarts, and that ... There was a momentum two weeks ago, something ... I'm not sure if it's still there."

Cho looked at him - not wondering, more like understanding perfectly what he was talking about.

---

Harry asked, "Your trip - was it an escape?"

"I came back, didn't I?" Cho's voice was defensive enough to give Harry the answer.

"Do you feel guilty?"

"No! ... Yes - oh, I don't know." She looked angry. "This argumentation doesn't work, Harry. I told you why I did what I did, and how I recognized my mistake - but it doesn't mean I'd make anything different. Same with the other things - this bottle, for instance. Of course we tried it - you knew that I'd be unable to resist, didn't you? Only it didn't help - I was still blaming you, even after knowing that there is no resistance, more than before - "

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't accept that it had happened - because I wanted to blame someone, and you were the only one at hand. I'm fighting a phantom, and that phantom is your fate - " Realizing how her own voice had grown in volume, Cho twisted.

"And why more than before? Because I tried to defend myself?"

"No." Cho flushed. "Because afterwards I knew ... In that night, what was left of my brain was busy imagining you with that woman, and this thought alone was almost enough to let me ... I felt like dead for days afterwards, and I was cursing you."

"So you're still accusing me of the same crimes as the last time?"

Cho shook her head. "No. The bottle - the letter - and Marie-Christine, from an objective standpoint you're judged innocent or not guiltier than I am" - she looked desperate - "while at the same time I'm still mad at you for exactly these reasons."

"That sounds like a Zen riddle."

"Maybe it is. You alone, Harry - that's just the amount I think I can handle. You together with your fate, and the situation you're put into - that's a bit too much. I was thinking seriously whether it would help to share you with someone else - only I could bear this thought even less."

"With some luck, in a few weeks, my task is completed. An then - do you think it's different then?"

Cho looked pleading. "Yes, I'm sure it is. Then it's something of the past, and of course you'll be still the same, with all your scary skill, but I guess I can handle that." She grinned. "You know that we're made for each other, don't you? I don't know anyone who could stand my temper for such a long time."

"I'd really like to give it a try now."

"No - please, Harry, bring it to an end before ... Then we'll start again, wiser than before, but without a burden greater than life - and I fully agree with your idea."

"Which one?"

"That I'll earn the money, and you'll be the one spilling it for some honest purpose."

Harry smiled - a sad smile. "Well, I had hoped for a bit more - no, not more, but sooner."

"Yes, I know, but I can feel that this is the better way ... Now that I've told you what I wanted to tell you, I still have a few days to get rid of my feeling guilty ..." Cho smiled, "and you have still a few weeks of freedom."

"Yeah, that's awfully helpful."

Cho's eyes started glittering. "My spies told me you weren't using your freedom at all. How come? Lost interest?"

"No. It might have to do with my priorities, or preferences, whatever ..."

"Marie-Christine told me you're no longer mad at her, and why not. Are you still mad at me for taking her away?"

Harry wouldn't start lying now. "Yes."

Cho smiled archly. "That's good. It balances us a bit, and it saves you from being a saint ..."

Harry chuckled.

"... and what's more, it gives me an idea how to solve this problem in the future."

He stared at Cho with some disbelief, totally unprepared for her next strike - the blow out of nowhere.

"And now, young Potter, tell me at the spot what happened in Japan!"

"Well ... I asked Almyra to trance me, because I wanted to see whether I could find Voldemort. But there wasn't any sign of him - while there was something else. I followed it - and I came out in your hotel room."

"I knew it was more than a dream - but you see what I mean, talking about scary skills ... Although, peeping Tom is a new role in your repertoire."

"Why - you've been alone, and sleeping ... How was it for you?"

"That's none of your business, young man."

"Now that's fair, really!"

Cho beamed. "You're famous for your tricks, and I'm famous for my unfairness - but wait a few weeks, then ask me again ... Unless you've guessed until then, which isn't too difficult, if you remember my previous remark."

"A ..." He stopped himself, grinned. "While on the subject - would you tell me your address? If I had known, I'd have visited you there."

"Yes, probably, but I don't think I'd have let you in, and for the same reason, please wait for some more weeks."

"But why? What's wrong with talking with you in your apartment, or house?"

"It's too risky." Cho smiled. "I'm sure I made the right decision, letting you finish your task first - and I can stand to it here, or in my office. Is this answer enough?"

Yes it was - and in a way, it was more torturing than the decision itself. Harry only could hope Francesco Lopez would be successful soon.