The High Priestess

Cho reached the door of her office and went inside. Arriving at her desk, she heard laughter through the other door leading to Chrissy's office. At the same moment, something chirped in her mind.

With a few steps, she was at the door and opened.

Three smiling faces looked at her - Chrissy, Harry, and Cass. And who knew, maybe Nagini was grinning, too.

"How come I can't help thinking that you exchange jokes at my cost?"

"Never, boss." Chrissy's lips were twisting.

"Your bad conscience." Harry's eyes were sparkling.

"My bad conscience?"

For a few seconds, Cho let it hang, seeing Harry's eyes becoming watchful, and a bit anxious. She grinned inwardly - even her husband could be scared. Not very often, true, and not with monsters or deadly risks, only with things as ordinary as answering him to such a remark in front of her assistant.

Then she said, "Come in, young man, that I can tell you about my bad conscience without Chrissy's ears turning red."

"Why, they'd suit me well."

Cho laughed. "Maybe next time."

Inside, she grinned at Harry. "For a second, I had you by the privates, right? You weren't sure whether I'd spill your little secret, isn't that so?"

"I grossly disagree with the definition of my little secret, and your choice of words is pretty weird, considering the situation ..."

Cho smiled triumphantly.

"... but otherwise you're right. I can live without Chrissy knowing."

Beaten by his own weapons. What a feeling. Cho came over and sat down at Harry's side. "My poor little wizard, is the stress too much for you? You must be tired. Come here, relax, here in this office you're safe."

Harry grinned, then shook his head. "You're incredible."

Cho nodded. "We agree on that, all three of us - four, counting Cass too."

All three of them ... For the last three days, Cho had made sure that her husband wouldn't even dream of going to that castle and create a fait accompli - or if so, then as a nightmare. He was honest, yes, and faithful in his own way - only he had this knack for feeling responsible, and always thought he had to come up with the solution for the impossible. And if Harry considered it important enough, for the welfare of the entire damned world, and justified by some higher ethics ...

Her strategy took quite some efforts, no denying that, hehe. But it had its benefits, its moments. And Cho had help: Laila.

Changing the subject in her mind and remembering the reason for Harry and Cass' tour, Cho asked, "How was it?"

"Pretty much as planned. She got the drink, and it worked. Then we went to Ollivanders for her first wand. It was Rahewa's present, since she talked all competitors out of the game. Then I treated them with some ice-cream, and finally we visited the twins."

"I'm a bit surprised to see you here."

Harry looked at her with eyes half-closed. "It's as you said - here I'm safe."

"Nah ..." Cho leered at him mockingly. "It might cross Laila's mind, although I doubt it, and even if so, I'm pretty sure that you won't manage. You're just trying to spread mistrust among the allied forces."

"You sure?"

Cho bent forward. "Now you try to make me feel uncertain. Okay, my little mustang, I take it back - you would manage. But she wouldn't do it."

"Why not?"

"She's not biting the hand that feeds her."

Harry started to laugh. "I feel it wiser not to comment on that."

---

Cho had to chuckle by herself, imagining the remark he might have replied. "Okay," she said, "then what's the real reason?"

"I wanted to talk with you. Alone."

Cho's suspicion boiled up instantly. "About what?"

"About your idea, with the twins and Biochemicals."

She examined her husband's face. Had it been just that - Fred and George and business plans - Harry would have started the discussion at the supper table, filling in any gap that might have turned up in Laila's knowledge. So what else did he have in mind?

She asked, "Did you talk with them about the idea?"

"No. Not with the others around. Not before talking with you."

"Why so complicated? The basic idea is simple enough - two businesses, some people, and the idea to work together. Why can't you address the issue between tea and biscuit?"

"Because what I have in mind is a bit more specific, which doesn't mean it's worked out to the last detail. Just the outline."

Could only have to do with their little problem. Only that it was impossible - the High Priestess and her bloody request had nothing to do with Biochemicals. Feeling at a loss to guess better, Cho said, "Spit it out."

Harry looked at her. "It's something serious. Quite so. If you say no, the idea's going to die on this magnificent rug."

So Cho had a veto. It should relieve her, only it made her still more suspicious. "Let's hear it."

Harry told her.

She stared at him. "You're mad. You're insane. Okay, it's nothing new, I knew it from the start but I wasn't fully aware of how big-stylish mad you are. That's megalomania."

"Definitely not. Don't forget who'd be involved."

"It will never work. It can't."

"Why not?"

Yes, why not? Because ... Wrong. It was possible, if that bitch was able to do her share ... Then Cho became aware that Harry's idea put an entirely new light at their basic problem.

Then she realized something else. "If they find out, we can only run for our lifes."

Harry nodded. "True. At least in the first time."

Cho exhaled, trembling. "Oh my God. You're serious. You're really, really serious."

"Yes, I am. And you know why? Because she's right. There was a scene today in the ice-cream parlour ..." Harry described the unpleasant encounter. "And if we can go this direction, then the question of her successor has to be asked anew."

"Really?"

"Absolutely. Twenty years from now ... I can imagine myself asking Sandy whether she's ready then. At any rate - it wouldn't look as horrible as now."

"Who else would need to know?"

"Ramon. Marie-Christine, first to give him support and second to tell us that we're on the right track ..."

We? Had Cho already said yes?

"... the twins. Hermione, Beatrice - Clemens of course. Dumbledore, to give us moral support. Ron, for the organizational side. And of course - "

"You thought it through, didn't you?"

"This list of people is pretty intuitive - I might have forgotten one or the other. Maybe we should think seriously about a bodyguard for you, then."

Which could only mean Laila, and confiding in her. Cho grinned wryly. "It's so breathtaking - I wonder if I can continue my strategy this evening."

"I hope this idea puts an end to it." Harry bent closer. "Please tell nobody, but - I really could do with a break."

* * *

Laila felt grateful for the portkey - being summoned unconsciously or throwing up right afterwards was so undignified, so disgraceful. For a short moment, it crossed her mind that this piece she was going to touch in a second would be worth a small fortune on the free market, according to what Cho had told her about Groucho business and the various branches. But this was hardly relevant now.

She came out not far from the Tiberias Linkport. Harry stood there, with his usual living luggage. "Still time for a drink?"

"Shouldn't you return instantly?"

Harry smiled. "No, I shouldn't. I have business here."

Laila tried to read in his face. "What business?"

"I have to talk with some people. Women, actually. Two of them."

"Harry!" Laila looked alarmed. "You're not going - "

He interrupted her. "Relax! I do it with Cho's permission."

"But - "

"Something new came up. I can't tell you - not now, for some reason. But I'm going to meet her, and to introduce her to Sandy, and Cho agreed to that." Harry grinned. "Not easily - first she had the idea you should come with me, the gun at the ready. But then we decided against it."

"And the other business?"

"I'm ready to discuss it here in the hot sunlight, but I thought a nice café, out of earshot ..."

Some minutes later, they were sitting opposite each other at a small table on the sidewalk - not Laila's first choice, considering the risk to be spotted here, after some days of leave without permission, but the only way of talking without unwelcome listeners.

"First let me tell you - it wasn't my intention to appear so mysteriously to you. It's just - "

Laila interrupted him, feeling pleased. "That's okay. Believe me, I don't feel excluded - or if so, I know there's a damn good reason."

"What are you going to do now?"

Laila played with the spoon. "Think things through ... Well, er - I figure I'm done with the army. What will come next - I don't know yet."

"How important is your country for you?"

"That's one of the questions I have to find an answer for. Cho offered me a job - nothing specific, but ..."

Harry hesitated. "If ... I have to find out something - could be things develop differently from what I expect, so this is a bit premature, only I didn't want to leave you without - er, adding a prospect to your thinking."

It was very unusual to hear him talking like that - vague, unclear, outlining some dubious pie in the sky. For a second, Laila felt startled - was it something with Cho?

"Very likely, and pretty soon, we'll need some people we can trust absolutely, Cho and I. What's more - these people need courage, quite a lot. And it would be a longer job. I just wanted to tell you - you'd qualify, in all regards."

A wave of pleasure rushed through Laila. "Sounds too good to be true - when do you know more?"

Harry didn't smile. "Laila, that's not an easy job. And this is aside from anything that's been - or will be - between us."

"How can you know that I'm so trustworthy? After these few days - regardless of ..." Laila smiled at the thought of this of.

"You forget that I can look a bit deeper than most people."

She twitched. "A girl should have a chance to keep a secret or two."

"That's funny" - Harry grinned - "because it's exactly this quality I'm looking for."

"There goes my beauty sleep - you know that I'll be unable to fall asleep, don't you, after all this hinting?" Laila swallowed. "And you know what I was talking about."

Harry looked wondering. "You really think my haragei told me something that wasn't obvious?"

"I don't know. It's almost impossible for me to judge how much you can sense ... and I don't know ..." Laila noticed how she was beating around the bush as vaguely as Harry a moment ago, except that she had all information she needed. "Okay - for the record: yes, it's more than sex - don't ask me how much more, but before you get the wrong impression, let me tell you that my feeling goes to both of you." She exhaled. "And to Sandy, but I think that's unavoidable."

Harry's smile looked warm, and a bit teasing. "Of course you do, and that's fundamental for our trust - anything off-balance in this regard would have been a problem. And for the same record: yes, it's more for both of us too, and I think it'll hold longer than our ménage à trois."

"You mean it's not over yet?"

"Would you prefer it to be platonic from now on?"

"Since when do you answer by asking a counter question?"

"Since the answer can be given only from all three of us. We need a rest, I'd say, we need time to get something settled - you, us - and then ... When we feel like it, that's the best answer I can give."

Laila tried to imagine a state in which she wouldn't feel like it. What she said was, "I guess I might."

Harry nodded. "I guess you mightn't be the only one. But not for the next days."

And a moment later, he was gone, with his picture in Laila's eyes fading quicker than the touch of his lips on her own.

* * *

Harry sat down in the grass, his back resting at the stones around the well. Sandra's voice sounded questioning, a bit timid. "Fever?"

"It's no longer a fever, sweetie. Bill is okay. We'll meet a woman. Her name is - "

"Good evening, Ha-ry. Good evening, Sandra Catherine." The High Priestess stood there, looking at them.

"Good evening, Aram'chee," replied Harry. "Please call her something shorter - otherwise she thinks it's serious."

As if this wasn't the most serious thing he could think of.

"Sandy, this is Aram'chee."

The woman came closer and sat down opposite, examining the girl. Harry became aware that some exchange might take place between them - right now, without him registering. It was an awkward feeling, sizing him down to an ordinary wizard like all the others.

"Aram ... she."

"This is my name. I will call you Little Witch. You are little, while not small."

"Fever!" The girl stared accusingly at the High Priestess.

Aram'chee tilted her head. "You are right. It was me who did the fever. I was misguided, Little Witch."

Sandra nodded. After some seconds, she seemed satisfied with the amount of reproach she had expressed - Harry felt curiosity growing in her. After some more seconds, when the woman still didn't look up, the girl sent an encouraging push.

Aram'chee's head came up, showing the first little smile Harry had seen in this face. He said, "She wants to learn you know better. That means, you should hold her in your arms."

Was it his effort? Hers? Or Sandy's - the girl floated through the air and came to rest in the woman's arm. Next moment, a small hand touched a solemn face.

Harry waited, feeling his last doubts fading. It had been the right thing to do.

Aram'chee looked at him. "I thank you for your trust, Ha-ry, and I thank the mother of your daughter."

"I'll tell her. But you must know - she didn't change her mind. And the other idea - I'm lucky she didn't scratch my eyes out."

"It was an offer to circumvent a major dilemma. After this meeting, it feels impossible for me to accept this second choice any longer. Was this your intention, or hers?"

Was it? Cho's, maybe.

"I don't know," answered Harry. "I'm not master of my unconscious, not to mention Cho's. I felt it appropriate to bring you two together."

"I am richly honoured. What a marvellous spirit!" Her glance at the girl, Aram'chee asked, "Do you want to have her back now?"

"No - she'll tell you when it's time, she has her way to make it clear."

A broader smile. "She certainly has." Then the High Priestess grew serious again. "Was she the reason for your coming, Ha-ry?"

"Indirectly, yes. But I have another reason - an idea, and a question." Harry explained what he had in mind.

---

The High Priestess kept silent still a moment after he had finished. Then she said, "I just tried to consider your suggestion according to the rules and ethics to which I am bound. This is beyond all experience. It is within my power to do what you want - this is certainly the answer to your question. Never before has a High Priestess been confronted with such a situation ..." The woman fell silent.

Harry waited.

"In a literal sense, it seems absurd - the opposite of the original intention. But it would be hybris to claim true knowledge of the original intention, or the intention behind the apparent intention. As I find myself unable to interpret the rules properly against your idea, I am forced to interpret what I have - the High Priestess is not allowed to refuse a decision in this regard ... There is an unprecedented situation in which the old methods appear inappropriate, at the same time there are you, with your idea, with the services you offer ... It puts a new light at my being late for years - as though preventing me from acting by conventional standards ... I feel awe in the face of destiny."

So this was the long version - hopefully. Then what was the short one? When in doubt, ask. "Will you do it?"

"Yes."

"That's ..." Finding his speech again, Harry continued, "I don't know how - I don't know whether I did us a favour, but anyway - thank you, Aram'chee."

After a few seconds of silence, he found the courage. "I still have another question, Aram'chee. It is - my reason for asking might be selfish."

"Like my request, which links together honesty and selfishness in an inseparable way?"

"I don't know - you may judge yourself." Harry asked his question.

"It is possible. It is not forbidden to grant such a privilege if the situation deserves it, still more so at the prospect of our new strategy." Aram'chee smiled. "I will simply trust your judgement, Ha-ry, that the situation deserves it."

Quite some words for what seemed to be a yes. Harry said, "Thank you ... This time I'm sure this is the right answer, and I'm ready to accept the obligation that comes from it."

"Such an obligation is only in yourself, Ha-ry. Facing my request, this must not be more than a minor detail. But all that happens changes our perspective - as our new strategy gives all of us more time, you may rightfully claim to have contributed enough so that your debt is balanced in advance."

"I'll think about it."

"Time has many shapes. As we sit here, I enjoy being together with your daughter. Can I offer you some more answers, in return for this privilege? Perhaps you would like to ask besides the duty of the High Priestess, for sheer curiosity?"

Questions he had, no shortage of them, only ... "Your place here - what's so special about it? Why don't you wander around, to learn about this world?"

"My place saves lifetime. Every month, with the burden of my duty, is a sacrifice. Exploring this world I will do, eventually, once I'm free to be just Aram'chee."

"How ... Er, how old are you, Aram'chee?"

"In lifetime or otherwise?" The woman smiled. "Look at what you see - a woman will not answer your question regarding her lifetime, and the High Priestess will not answer your question regarding her period of duty."

Well - pretty much what Harry had expected to hear. At least he could stop fighting with himself whether to ask or not. It was the common pattern - women said, ask away, only to deny the answer. The older, the more.

* * *

Ramon felt surprise, seeing Harry alone - well, not quite alone, the girl and the snake were almost natural parts of him. "Come in - you make me curious, coming without Cho."

Harry nodded, not bothering to offer an explanation. "Is Marie-Christine here?"

"I'm here!" came a voice from the living room.

Some minutes later, sitting around a table, Ramon could no longer resist. "Before I die, Harry - is it about you three, us two, Biochemicals, the police - "

"All of them."

"Ah - yes, of course." Ramon glared at Harry. "How stupid of me, not noticing it instantly, after you didn't specify it any further."

Marie-Christine laughed. "He's perfectly serious, Ramon - which makes me wonder - "

"I just had a talk with the High Priestess," explained Harry.

"With Sandy?" That was Marie-Christine.

"Does Cho know?" That was Ramon himself.

"Yes to both. They go along well, Sandy and her - by the way, her name's Aram'chee." Harry looked at Marie-Christine. "Before I forget - you were right with your guess. She wants to resign."

Ramon said, "Yeah, sure, that's quite easy to forget - among all the other issues, I mean."

Harry's grin was brief. "You want to know what it's about? Why I'm here?"

Ramon raised his eyebrows. "How did you know?"

"I'm not teasing you - when I'm finished, you'll say, I wish you'd never told me. But then it's too late."

"I wish you'd ever tell me, before it's too late because I strangled you."

Harry told him. And Marie-Christine.

Ramon swallowed. "I'm just trying to figure out what would happen if I'd say no. It's a very unpleasant feeling."

Harry looked bewildered. "Is the feeling any better if you'd say yes?"

"Well, it'll make me a member of the gang. Outsiders knowing too much, that's a tricky position."

Harry snorted. "Some day, we might find out if I should feel flattered now or insulted. But for the record - if you say no, still more if Marie-Christine says no, then we can bury the idea right here."

"Why hers more?" Ramon's own question.

"How could we say no then?" Marie-Christine's question.

"How? Just so - listen, I want to hear from you whether we're on the right track, or if this is a grandiose mistake. You can bear that only together, and Marie-Christine's opinion counts more because I have trouble accepting good advice from men."

Ramon said, "Some day, I might find out if I should feel flattered or insulted."

Marie-Christine said, "I can't see anything wrong in the goal. I think you're on the right track, it's just ... thinking about what's lying ahead is a bit frightening."

Harry looked pleased. "If that's all - we'll manage, and cheer up each other."

Ramon growled. "Definitely. What about a sample right now? I mean - you tell me it'll work, and everything'll be fine, you know?"

"Why not?" Harry smiled at him - and next second, Ramon felt a wave in his mind.

"Okay, okay - enough!" But he really felt better.

Harry said, "You'll be in the center of the background operation, Ramon. One of the open issues is, how many people need to know?"

"One more's the minimum. This is undercover work, Harry - you're talking with an expert. One more might also be the maximum."

"You need an assistant, or deputy, or whatever's the term."

Ramon looked at Marie-Christine while speaking. "I discussed it with Jesamine the other day. My idea was someone slim, gentle, almond eyes ..."

Marie-Christine showed him a fist.

"... while Jesamine's idea was focused on bigger - er, perspectives."

Marie-Christine showed him the other fist.

Harry smiled. "I might know a compromise."

* * *

George said, "That's madness. If they ever find out ..."

Fred said, "We're not prepared for that. It exceeds - "

George interrupted him. "... our worst fears. We knew, some day you'd come and present the bill. This is the day."

Fred said, "Don't listen to him. We're absolutely thrilled - "

George interrupted him. "... by the prospect of some people coming one day, saying, good afternoon, we're from the Health Authority, would you please show us your production process. Commonly, this excitement is known as being scared shitless."

Fred said, "He's lying. All that scares him is the idea of a woman having a saying, in particular if her name's Cho Chang-Potter."

George said. "That's true. I swore to myself - Mum'll be the last one who's been telling me what to do."

Harry waited still a second whether the ping-pong would continue. When both twins looked expectantly, he said, "Is this your only concern?"

"Sure," said Fred. "It's pretty much what we did at Hogwarts, isn't it? Only that now - well, big style is yet too small for that."

"Yeah," replied George, "the same's true if we get caught. The detention will be worse than anything Argus Filch could dream of."

"Don't listen to him, Harry." Fred shot a look at his brother. "That's nothing we can't handle with a few emergency linkports - in the office, in the bathroom - "

"Why don't you shut up?" George shook his head in desperation. "A few seconds more, and Harry would have bought it. I was just pushing the price - you know Cho, don't you? If he tells her about this conversation, she'll come and say, okay guys, how much are you ready to pay for the fun?" He looked at Harry. "Fred and business - if he hadn't me ..."

"... and the small potatoes, I'd eat the big ones." Fred looked at Harry. "Don't believe him, the only difference between us - he's still less scrupulous than I am. Bargaining at such a moment, after it's been you who came with this bag of galleons."

"Right, we shouldn't forget that." Fred smiled roguishly. "Okay - you'll get that back from the five million or so - thousand, wasn't it?"

Harry felt great. With these two, the worst nightmare seemed bearable. Then a thought crossed his mind.

"It's strange, because - Aram'chee is talking quite a lot about destiny - I'm sure, she'd even count the price from the Three-Wizard Tournament as some kind of - er, premonition."

"Never mind that Divination babble, Harry." George grinned. "If women have been too long out of the fun, they look deeply into your eyes and say, it's been destiny which brought us together ... That's nothing which couldn't be cured with a good - er, I mean she's been too long in her job, that's all."

"That's what she said herself." Harry chuckled. "Although not with these words."

* * *

Michael stared into the fire, wondering for the umpteenth time what was better - these pieces of magic wood, burning forever, with quiet, steady flames, not sparkling much, not smoking much, or real wood that was devoured quickly, had to be replaced quite often.

Because then, you had a reason to move here and there, coming a bit closer, sitting down again. It was a matter of opportunity without this incredibly purposeful intention of getting up and finding a new place at her side.

Except then she wouldn't look at him as she did now.

Just then, something like a heavy blow hit the back of his head, but faded instantly. "Michael!"

Still gasping from the shout in his mind, Michael felt a grin spreading his face. Who could be mad at her? Next second, Harry appeared in the light from the fire.

"Good evening. Please excuse our intruding - "

"Arrgh!" Vanessa nearly collapsed.

Michael stared at her in astonishment. When Vanessa looked sufficiently recovered, after Harry had apologized again, Michael asked, "Didn't you feel her? Hear her?"

"Who? Sandy? No, nothing."

"But ..." Michael stared at Harry. "I felt like kicked by a mule, and then I heard her shouting my name."

Harry looked uneasy for a moment. "Erm - maybe she had a crash course recently. At least we can assume that she can direct her attention without the stray effects from before."

"Whatever." Michael brought his guitar in position. "Let me play a song after this - er, surprise."

He played two - only one would have been an invitation for another mule-kick. Then he asked, "Were you looking for Rahewa?"

"No." Harry smiled.

Michael felt relieved. To answer the question where Rahewa was right at this time might have been a bit embarrassing. Not that he could specify an exact location ... The thought didn't make him envious - well, maybe a bit. No - not envious, just a bit yearning, which didn't feel wrong at all.

Into his thoughts, Harry asked, "Will you make a profession of your music, Michael?"

"Definitely not. Do you know how - yes of course, you know enough about movie business, don't you?" Michael twitched. "Er - sorry, I didn't mean to be offensive against Groucho."

Harry grinned. "I know what you mean. I remember a party - it wasn't Groucho; their movie branch didn't exist yet then. Oh boy, those were total strangers, and they offered you - " He stopped. "So it's supposed to remain private entertainment. Then what else?"

"Dunno yet. I know I should be a bit more determined, having gotten that far, but somehow I couldn't muster the energy to think about that."

Of course not. Not as long as something else was occupying his mind, day and night.

As if agreeing to that, two heads nodded almost in unison. Then Harry turned to Vanessa. "And you?"

"For a while, I thought I'd go for a career as a model, or an actor, or whatever - something where you trade with your looks. I don't think that's an option for me any longer - not that, er ..." Vanessa blushed.

"No," said Harry smiling, "not that - but you thought better of it."

Vanessa glanced up and smiled back self-consciously. "Yes."

Michael had a feeling. "Do you have suggestions, Harry?"

"I might."

"Such as?"

"Not today. Maybe not even before the end of the year. Although - a free discussion, no commitment involved, won't hurt. And I know when we could discuss it, and where. I had the idea to invite some people - you, for instance."

Vanessa twisted.

Michael was more eager to help than to be polite. "And who else?"

"Rahewa and Clemens. And for Saturday evening, I thought of Tony and Ireen - they're much older, at least Tony, but - they met just recently." Harry smiled. "And since we want to use his pool for sure - it's more of a little lake, actually - inviting them as well is only appropriate."

"Saturday evening? What Saturday - "

"I was thinking of a weekend - the next one, by the way."

---

Vanessa was biting her lips. Noticing it, Michael turned to Harry. "Sounds great. Er - I mean, thank you. Is it okay if we tell you, er, tomorrow?"

"Wait."

Michael's head snapped around to Vanessa. Harry's movement was calmer; he seemed less surprised.

"Er ... I - we'd like to come, of course. It's just - there's something I wanted to ask you. It's - "

"Music!"

Harry smiled. "A suggestion that's hard to reject. Maybe a shanty?"

Vanessa looked sharply at him, then nodded. "Yes, a shanty."

Not Michael's first choice, them. Shanties ... However he knew some, and after two - a vivid one and a slow, rhythmic one, Sandy was satisfied.

Vanessa said, "You're right. That's the keyword - boat cruise."

"This boat," started Harry without hesitation, "belonged to someone who liked to play games - that's how he called it. Games with girls. Problem was, the fun was pretty unbalanced. But he had a way to make sure they wouldn't tell, afterwards. They came out without a scratch, to the outside. Until one day, by accident, he played the game with someone he wished he'd never seen, afterwards. I think he still wishes, after waking up from a nightmare."

Even in the light from the campfire, Harry's face looked cold, hard, and frightening. Now it softened.

"The girls weren't raped, not in the - er, traditional sense of the word. He made them helpless - in his boat somewhere far out - and then he started to humiliate them. Sexual humiliation - that's the worst. Much worse than - " He looked up. "Have you ever been tortured in training?"

Michael nodded. Vanessa shook her head.

"Torture's something totally from the outside. It can break you inside, but you know all the time it's a hostile attack, no denying that. And it's not really humiliating, just painful. Okay, you may lose control of your bladder and so - by the way, watching how the girl couldn't hold her water was one of his games."

Michael became aware why Harry wasn't telling the story in sequential order. To know that something had happened to this subject, something that made him get up screaming in the night, rendered the story bearable.

"Humiliation alone is one thing - even sexual humiliation. But the most despicable part is that your own body tricks you, underminding your defense. You can't avoid sexual arousal, and the worst that can happen then is an orgasm. Because in your memory, the humiliation and the arousal are linked together. This is the nastiest part of it."

Michael could see as much as feel that Vanessa had calmed down a bit, listening with fascination.

"And that's exactly what the cure has to do. Separating them from each other, making clear that the arousal was a side-effect, in some sense not any different from wetting yourself, in spite of the fact that the guy did it by himself, or by not letting her reach the toilet in time. The memory of the humiliation - it leaves a scar, only we get quite some scars" - Harry smiled humourlessly - "and the girl I'm talking about recovered quite well when she heard about the stunt that got him his reward. That's quite helpful, mark my words."

---

"And ... and the cure?" Vanessa had difficulties with her voice.

"The cure is to learn again that sex itself is - let's say, innocent. It's the intention that matters. Giving and receiving arousal, experiencing an orgasm, is the most profund method of expressing love, affection, tenderness. And the only way how to learn this - is sex, what else. Sex plays in our brain - the same mechanism which established the unhappy link will help to break it apart ... Of course, at the beginning, it's a question of softness and patience ... I mean, basically, sex is an exciting game of conquest and surrender - but only after there's a basis of trust and understanding and knowledge. We know that some people are getting a kick from playing with the unknown risk, from playing with real bondages and whatnot - for the average person, the imagination is strong enough. What I'm saying is, all this comes much later, the first lessons are to experience an - er, a peaceful orgasm, if you know what I mean."

Micheal had an idea, but wouldn't mind confirmation, if not for his mouth, which felt uncommonly dry. "Can ... can you be a bit more specific, Harry?"

"Okay. The - the normal way of sex, I mean the penetration, is somewhat aggressive, and the same goes for what the catholic church thinks of as standard - the missionaire's position. According to the pope, the steps I would recommend first count as unnatural and pervert. Except that the only perversion in this regard is to do something against the will of the partner - provided they both are old enough to know what it's about. What we use to articulate ourselves is well suited to express more than words - "

"Okay, yes." Michael felt his hot cheeks. "Got it, Harry."

Vanessa's voice was thoughtful. "I wonder ... would it be a good idea to talk with her?"

"Hmm ..." After a moment's thinking, Harry's face lighted up. "I have an idea - but first, just for completion - it's helpful to talk about it with those people you like and trust. That's my concern here - it would be two strangers talking to each other. But I can give you a phony with a blind connection - do you know what this is?"

"No."

"You press the button, and the display only says 'Blind connection'. You don't know who you're talking with, the same goes for the other side. It's like this Internet chat - it's your decision if and when to reveal your identity."

"That sound's good. If you could lend me that - "

Harry laughed. "You aren't serious, are you? But the other thing - how's your way with Samantha?"

"She's okay." Vanessa's face showed reluctance, to say the least.

"She's more than that," replied Harry. "Sam did the talking in the case I was telling about, and she did it quite well."

"Really?"

"Oh yes. She knows what she's talking about, that's all I'm saying."

Michael felt how someone was pulling in his mind. "Time for a break - music time, I mean." He played three songs. Then he said, "I'd like to know what happened to that guy."

Harry looked at Vanessa. "And you?"

"I'm not sure."

"Well - for that, you have to ask Rahewa, after telling her it's okay with me. She played a major role in that stunt."

Suddenly, Vanessa looked very interested.

* * *

Harry tried to remember whether the round was the same as the last time. Moroney was there, Wynor too, and the old guy who had asked him questions. Harry recognized two other face in addition, then he was at a loss. On the other hand, he felt confident that a new face would have stood out in his vision.

Urion wasn't there. So letting him sit down and listen, after his report at the previous occasion, had been an act of politeness.

The same room, the same round - still no trace of getting used to it. Too different were the premises, aside from the importance of the issue - for the Goblins and their Request, given into Harry's hands five years ago, and for himself, knowing what he was going to ask. The last time, he had mastered the barrier of reluctance in himself, while his request had been little more than something like, "Help me, but don't ask me how."

Today, he knew exactly what he wanted from them.

He remembered his first request, the Privileged one - how he had searched for literature, read case studies, only to learn that aiming too high was a deadly mistake while aiming too low meant asking for a cruel lesson in decency.

He had aimed right, at that time. Twenty-nine Steel Wings for the Flying Squad had been the result, the technological basis for the victory in the Battle of Hogwarts. It had earned him also the one and only Goblin Request - not his right choice alone, of course ...

While today Harry felt sure, nobody would accuse him of aiming too low. No, sir, definitely not. Was it too much?

There was no recorded case of a failed Goblin Request. Which was hardly suited to feel better, because there wasn't any case recorded at all. Maybe in some Goblin journal, deep below some capital, in a vault known by just a few Goblins.

Or just in some memories, passed further from father to son ... How emancipated were Goblin women?

"Ambassador, please speak."

Harry bowed first to Mr Moroney, then into the round. "High Council, when we met here some days ago, I claimed your support in dealing with the power that appears in the shape of a woman who calls herself the High Priestess. Then, all I could suggest was to find her, to find a way how to talk with her, in order to find out what kind of power this is."

Harry hadn't received a formal answer. Still, he had decided against speculating aloud - here - what the answer could be.

"Today, I am here to claim the same. Only today I know exactly what to demand from the Goblin community, which goal to aim at, and which measures to take in pursuit of this goal. I met the High Priestess and spoke with her. I offered a plan, a strategy, and she agreed. I wouldn't go so far as to say we have the same opinion of things, however we share the belief that this strategy is the only one possible. You might also say we simply don't know any other, taking into account all factors involved."

They didn't. Of course not.

"The High Priestess says she is a controlling authority of the magical world, and the only of its kind. The power she received goes with the position, not with the person. All she knows about the power behind the power is that it brought magic into our world - "

Harry stopped and corrected himself. "At least that's all she told me."

"Anyway," he continued, "there's a rule saying the two worlds have to keep apart, the magical one and the non-magical one. Magic is a privilege. It needs to be balanced out by the absence of non-magical privileges. For all I know, that means useful technology. But the two worlds came together, which she says is a violation of the rule. She accepted that it is mainly the work of Voldemort, so the other wizards are not to blame, and this is why she stopped punishing them by taking away their magic."

Already days ago, it had occurred to Harry that Japanese wizards had mixed magic and useful technology for years, had built devices that would have driven some guys in the Ministry of Defense into heartstrokes, seeing such a misuse of Muggle artefacts. Eventually, he had stopped thinking about it. Weren't the Japanese notorious for bypassing everybody's patent rights?

"However - the High Priestess didn't give up feeling responsible for a solution. While I didn't agree with her about the importance of this rule as such, her argument was quite convincing, in particular after some scenes I witnessed recently. She said, sooner or later, the other side can't bear the thought any longer that they are not privileged. This would be the begin of a mass murder. The magical world would become extinct within a period of time, maybe leaving some of them in reservations."

The native Americans hadn't been privileged. Not at all. To change that, they had been made extinct, with a few remnants who could show visitors how underprivileged they were now.

"So if the two worlds cannot coexist, and if it's too late to put them apart again, the only solution left is to unite them. The Muggles must become Magicals."

Did this count as Muggle genocide?

"This can't be done in the literal sense. What can be done is to take measures that the newborn children all come into our world with magical power - well, maybe not all of them immediately, but this is the goal."

---

There was an old myth about a town in which people had killed the younger generation because they could muster significantly more human feelings, about justice in particular: the Pied Piper. But a magical child had a good chance, especially when it learned to share the parents' prejudices.

Of course, with the exception of Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. But they were both beyond the age of getting children ... Hopefully.

"The strategy is to take all efforts that a newborn child has magic, and the method is to poison the parents with an elixir that achieves the desired result, to dope them, to drug them - unnoticed, of course; that's the crucial part. This is a crusade to implant a spell in the ovaries of the mothers-to-be, in the sperm of the fathers-to-be, in the embryonic state of the new life, with the fetus as the finished product, ready to unfold its magic in due time."

Could silence be excited? If so, the Goblins staring at Harry did their best to hide.

"The elixir is a new development. It will be a variation of what has been used recently to cure some wizards and witches from their loss of magic. It will be produced by Groucho Biochemicals, of course with very few people knowing the secret. The tricky part is to make the young couples drink it. For this, we need distribution channels with a wide market range. Still more, we need channels to penetrate regions in which a market in the western sense does not exist at all - third world countries in general. Obviously, in these regions it will take a bit longer. But on the other hand, these are the same countries in which tolerance toward different levels of magic and privilege is better developed than in the industrial nations of the western hemisphere, so we have more time there."

Well - often enough, the tolerance was zero. But at least the intolerance wasn't much different against Muggles and Magicals.

"We can manage three distribution channels by our own resources. One is the pharmaceutical market, at least the part which is dominated by Groucho Biochemicals. In favour of this goal, Groucho will set foot into the soft-drink market - the idea is to offer something fancy, with a strong taste in which you can hide more of the elixir."

For this, they had to wait until Groucho Communications had fully recovered from its initial lawsuits shock, and the profits were pouring in. Unless the Goblins helped a bit ...

"The third channel is the sweets market, more exactly, the magical sweets market. Like the pharmaceuticals market, it has the big advantage that the customers won't be surprised about an unexpected taste, while it benefits from a much wider acceptance. Everybody likes sweets."

Really? Had he ever seen Wynor with a candy bar?

"We might find more. But all these channels are based on the concept of a customer - someone ready to pay money, which means this someone must have money he can spend. We need a channel that works independently from this basic assumption. And this is where the Goblin community comes into play - in case you accept my request."

For an instant, it looked as though the old guy would speak, would ask a question. But he still kept silent.

So Harry continued, "My request is that the Goblin community uses and extends its market position and its resources to come in touch with young couples all over the world. An example - Gringotts offer loans with excellent conditions - for young couples awaiting a baby. While discussing the details in a Gringotts residence, they are offered a drink ... Another example - Goblins develop programs for medical care in third world countries, again aiming primarily toward pre-natal support. All this can be presented with a natural interest in the next-generation customers - if it would sail under the flag of welfare only, people would start getting suspicious."

Greed was better business than loving care. Harry felt sure the Goblins knew better than anyone else.

---

"There are certainly more ways, we don't need to list all of them now, and I don't want to tell you what to do in detail ... So this is my demand - to be the major force, and to provide the resources, for turning the Muggle world into next generations's wizards and witches. It were the Goblins who united the fractions of the magical world sufficiently to set an end to centuries of fights and wars. And again, for all I can see, it is the Goblin community as the only one able to unite the magical and the non-magical world in humankind. It might be the largest-scale deception ever. Still, it is for a honourable purpose."

Harry bowed, then leaned back.

Silence.

"Ambassador," said the old guy, "how long, would you think, can such a global deception be kept a secret?"

"I have no idea, Honourable. If it's possible to keep the secret for ten years, before everyone realizes that suddenly a thousandfold of the wizarding schools is required, we have won. Then it'll be too late, even if they're going to make Groucho a dark spot in history."

"Does your claim extend to military support also?"

Now that was a nice formulation. A trap, wrapped in an offer, wrapped in a question.

"The risk is high," answered Harry, "I'm aware of that. My only excuse is that the risk of not uniting the worlds is still higher, although not immediately. And all wizards and witches participating in this conspiracy take the same risk. Should the day come that hordes of screaming Muggles appear at our gates - I have no intention to tell the Goblins how to defend themselves. While on the other side - the more Goblins make themselves an indispensible part of the business world, the smaller is the risk. And for third world countries - everybody is poisoning them in the name of civilization and profit, it's only important not to appear altruistic ... Nobody kills his banker because he might need another loan the next day. Only missionaires get skinned."

Another Goblin said, "Considering your goal, Ambassador, your argumentation seems remarkably cynical."

"Maybe so, Honourable. But you can't cure the world, except perhaps with its own medicine - sorry, that wasn't meant as a joke. I don't believe one can make the world better - unless on a very small, very personal scale. That's not my goal. I just want to make it magical."

Another moment of silence.

Again, Harry didn't see any signal pass between the old guy and his friend, Modragh Moroney, when the Managing Director suddenly said, "Ambassador, your request is understood. It is no doubt the most challenging claim ever heard from a holder of this title, and this duty. This Council will honour it with the most careful consideration. The Council also wants to express its deep satisfaction with the present assignment - whatever could be expected, has been fulfilled, if not more."

So he'd done an excellent job - in what? Scaring them?

Harry rose and bowed. "High Council - good evening."