The High Priestess

Beatrice listened to Cho's explanations about the next steps to do. These steps applied to an early stage of a project which hadn't even started yet, had nonetheless all ingredients of a thrilling adventure.

"... people you see here are those who know. Their number will grow still a bit - for example, this project will take all of Groucho's resources, and that's possible only with the approval of the major shareholders, so Sylvie and Jesamine have to be informed sooner or later. But we haven't even begun - once the operation is running, it's a bit easier for the newcomers to settle to this idea."

Settle to the idea, that was good. Beatrice had never heard anything as unsettling as Harry's explanations, when he visited her in Port au Prince to tell her about his plan, and to ask whether she would join the party.

Right now, Cho grinned maliciously. "Well, I wasn't quite correct, of course. There's someone else who knows - except we didn't want to disturb her in her beauty sleep, as long as there's no work for her to do ..."

The High Priestess ... Beatrice was looking forward to seeing her. And she was looking forward to talking with someone who knew why Cho always seemed to grow claws and fangs when speaking about this woman.

"... and I left out the Goblins, first because I don't know who'll be a member of their task force, assuming they'll agree, and second because we don't have answer from them yet." Cho turned to her husband. "Harry, what's your guess about that?"

"I'd say - the answer will be positive, that's pretty sure. Not because the Goblins necessarily share our concerns, at least not from our point of view, but it's a challenge, and that's intriguing them still more. They're bankers only with one part of their soul, while the other - for them, this isn't much different from a military operation, in some way."

"How long will it take them to answer?"

Harry thought for a moment. "They got some suggestions what to do, and how to do it. My guess is that right as we speak they're busy looking for additional methods, and check them, and prepare for them, just to make clear that it's their own decision how to do it."

Ramon asked, "What's that in weeks? Two? ... Four? ... Fourteen?"

Harry pursed his lips, then nodded. "Yes."

"Yes to wha - " Seeing Cho's grin, Ramon stopped.

Cho said, "For a change, it's nice to see someone else caught by that old trick. Okay, Ramon - you're the cop here, I think you should spend a moment at giving us some advice how to handle security, then we're done with the official part."

Ramon glanced at her, then looked into the round. "All right, folks - I'd say, you wait for a while, until you hear the alarm clock. Then you get up quickly, put yourself under a long, hot shower, and swear to yourself you won't tell anyone ever about this dream."

George turned to his twin brother. "Fred, this guy's challenging our reputation - do something!"

Fred smiled at the Biochemicals CEO. "Ramon, you better get serious in a hurry, otherwise I'm going to tell my little brother, then he'll come and order all of us to his version of security - and then you'll regret bitterly."

The little brother, called Harry, looked solemnly at Ramon. "Yes, I will."

"No, please." Ramon shuddered. "I won't do it again, I promise!"

Cho looked at Marie-Christine and rolled her eyes. "Men!"

"Okay, okay! All right, then ..." Turning serious again, Ramon said, "Basically, what we do is undercover work. Be aware of that, and don't ever think there's someone you can trust, and tell. If you think there's someone, come and tell us, and have a good argument ready why this person needs to know. Otherwise - use common sense. Behave as always, don't start tiptoeing around. If it's your habit to discuss your work in the canteen, don't stop now - just prepare yourself with a few unsuspicious terms. Those who listen and nod in approval don't get half of what you're saying anyway, so don't disappoint them by starting to be reasonable ..."

Cho was eyeing him suspiciously, but Harry nodded.

"... That's the bottom line. We'll work out the details when it's time, like what to keep in documents, and where. And please, if you did a mistake, tell us. We will make mistakes, it's unavoidable. Keep that in mind - you won't be the first to come and confess, we just don't publish lists, that's all."

---

Hermione asked, "And what if someone has heard too much, or seen too much?"

Ramon said, "If we can afford it, we'll tell him. If not, we'll use a memory charm - like in the good old times with the Muggles."

"A memory charm can be broken," said George.

Harry looked at him. "Not those of Aram'chee. At any rate, these are the only two options."

It felt strange, hearing him address the High Priestess by her own name, as though she was someone he had met the other day and now was trying to put on the next party's guest list. Beatrice noticed Cho's expression - it would be hard work to put that woman on her guest list.

Now Cho looked friendlier. "That's it for today, I guess. Thank you for your attention."

Beatrice saw Fred passing a remark to his twin while looking in her direction. No doubt, next moment she would have the chance of seeing an unmarried Weasley in action.

Nope. Cho caught him and his twin brother, probably to discuss the merger between Groucho and Swashbuckle.

"Can I treat you with a lunch? Except for me it's a dinner."

Beatrice looked up. Before her stood Hermione, smiling, smiling even broader when she added, "In full public, just what the doctor said."

They hadn't seen each other since the brainstorming. Some brain that, really ... Beatrice became aware that Hermione, although some years younger than herself, seemed more self-confident, showing no trace of embarrassment.

"Yes, thanks. I'm starving."

They went downstairs. The wall in the entrance hall showed half a dozen plates, stainless steel, each of them in the shape of a hand, with engravings that read 'Airport,' 'Linkport,' and the names of some restaurants. They were portkeys, Harry's work. Beatrice knew from Chrissy about a running gag in the maintenance crew - sending a new teammate to polish these plates.

To come back, they would need a cab. Hermione could apparate, but Beatrice herself couldn't. Calling Harry over the phony to get summoned didn't sound like an option: too embarrassing - not for him, but for herself.

Without even asking her, Hermione grabbed Beatrice's hand and pressed a plate. Next instant, they stood in front of a restaurant unknown to Beatrice - something Spanish, Luiz Pereira. Just from the smell, Beatrice's mouth started watering. Small wonder, according to her stomach it was already two hours later.

Inside, people were waiting in line. Beatrice turned to Hermione. "I'll be starved until we get a table - Spanish, that means it'll take forever."

"You won't." Hermione grinned deviously. "Wait and see."

The waitress arrived. "Two seats, ladies?"

"Yes, please. Ramon Garcia - he's our boss - said we'd find here an excellent service."

The waitress smiled knowingly. "Then we'll make sure he won't be disappointed."

Five minutes later, they were guided through the kitchen, and out again into the public area, to a table in a corner. Hermione tried to order an aperitif, with little success. Before she had found time to complain, a man stood at their table, depositing two large glasses with what seemed to be daiquiris.

"A welcome from the house, Miss Chagrin, Mrs Krum. Would you allow me to select your courses?"

"Er - yes." Hermione looked baffled.

Using Spanish, Beatrice asked, "Do we have the pleasure with Senor Pereira?"

"Himself, Miss Chagrin - at your service."

"Nice to meet your, Senor Pereira. How did you know our names?"

"From Ramon, of course." Smiling, the man disappeared.

---

"What did you say?" Hermione's tolerance toward languages she didn't speak seemed limited.

Beatrice told her. "Do you think they have a list of names here?"

"No." Hermione looked guilty. "He must have called Ramon a minute ago."

"Uh-oh." After a moment, Beatrice shrugged. "So what - you told the truth, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did." Hermione recovered quickly. "What's more - I did exactly what he said, behaving as usual. Imagine I'd suddenly stop being pushy ..."

They looked at each other. After a second, Beatrice raised her glass. "Cheers."

Hermione studied her nails. "How are you?"

"Fine, and you?"

"I'm fine. I had a few bad moments, when they came back. But after it worked out okay with Viktor - the cure, I mean ..."

"I can imagine."

A quick glance. "Harry had to wake me. I had just a minute to reach the laboratory."

"Ew."

"Yeah ..." Now Hermione grinned. "But he wasn't mad at me."

"Who? Viktor?"

"Not him - he doesn't know yet. Harry."

"Ew ... Wonderful."

A large salad appeared. Seeing it, Beatrice forgot her concern, as her stomach saw more urgent business to deal with.

Between bites, Hermione said, "But that's not the reason why I wanted to talk alone with you - well, not the only one. It's about our new project - what we have to do, getting the stuff down in taste and striking, is difficult enough, so ... I think we have to work together on that."

"Yes, I think so, too."

"And?"

Hermione's voice was casual - too casual, as Beatrice registered next second. So there was someone who wasn't all self-confidence ... Suddenly the few years difference became more prominent.

"You know - for me, our competition's always been more of a game, with Cho never getting tired of heating it up. I think we'll do fine together."

"You think you're going to get along with me?"

Beatrice laughed. "I'm not all soft and pliable, 'ermione - I can show claws too, just less often than Cho. We'll do great, I'm sure of that."

Hermione looked pleased. "Yes. I'm looking forward to that."

Whatever that meant. Then another thought struck Beatrice. "And Clemens? What about him?"

Hermione had more information. "He doesn't know yet, but Harry will talk with him within the next days. I expect him to work at the other part, getting the recipe to the point where it's weakest without losing the effect, and with the smallest amount of - er, horse blood we can afford."

"Yes, that ... Does anyone know how we get the quantities we'll need?"

"That's Harry's job." Hermione grinned. "Fred had an idea, except I don't know if it's realistic. He suggested to let Harry and Almyra manage another transfiguration."

"What? Uni - er, the real thing?"

"No." Hermione giggled. "Vampire bat - then we could send them and milk them afterwards."

For Beatrice herself, embedded in the superstitions of Haiti, the joke wasn't quite as funny. Then Hermione said, "We'll need your booster."

"Yes, probably."

For a moment, they were both busy with their food. Then Beatrice said, "Maybe we should have someone with us, when running under dope."

Hermione glanced at her. "Who should that be?"

"Yeah, that's the question, isn't it?"

"Then maybe we shouldn't."

Beatrice examined the face opposite, which looked as innocent as the next-best professional gambler with a Full House face-down on the desk. After a moment, she said, "I've got no problems with either approach. This kind of - er, teamwork's somewhat new to me. But maybe I'm less limited than you."

Hermione's face showed appreciation for this particular choice of words. Then she said, "Could be I'm playing with ideas ... For instance, I thought - after you came to Hogwarts all the time, why not trying the other way? The autumn break isn't too far away - a week in Haiti, that might have quite some appeal - if that's convenient for you."

"Certainly. You alone?"

"I'm not sure yet. What if I came with Viktor?"

Beatrice stared at her. "To - er, keep us at work? To work with us? Right now I'm not sure whether I can follow."

"Well, I ... I'm still testing the ground, in case I have to step back. But I wasn't thinking of him working under brain booster."

Beatrice nodded slowly. "I see ... An entirely new idea - takes me a bit by surprise, while it certainly has some appeal."

Hermione showed a secretive smile.

"Yes, that sounds interesting. Maybe you should ask him."

"Maybe not." Hermione's smile broadened. "Maybe we should surprise him."

* * *

The spectacle didn't completely reach Clemens' attention. It got lost somewhere between his eyes, staring at the magnificent pool and the people inside or around, and his conscious thinking. His mind seemed still fixed to a mind-numbing announcement from a while ago, heard in a room as profane as the Potter-Chang kitchen, dressed for breakfast.

Sandy was scooting through the water, clutching Nagini's tail.

The audience for Harry's explanations had consisted of Clemens himself and Rahewa. It had been right after the breakfast, just after Sandy had ordered Michael to follow her, fetch his guitar quickly and play - in her room, Sandra's own room, through this event changing from a second-rated sleeping place to something comparable with Hély's room, where a Goblin harp could be found.

Vanessa had followed Michael. And then, as if announcing the planning for the rest of this weekend, which had started the afternoon before, Harry had told them about a conspiracy.

Ireen was asking Tony why he still didn't worry, after Harry had disappeared under the water surface two minutes ago.

Ireen was a Muggle, Tony too. By the look of things, soon they'd be busy starting their own child, and probably practising hard in the meantime. And this child ... They didn't know what was awaiting them, as Harry had explained. Chrissy was a Muggle too - who knew though, who wasn't likely to be affected, as the Vanzandts had completed their family program, coming up with a daughter that had magic of her own. And millions of others ...

Rahewa was treading water. Next second, a deep-sea monster pulled her underwater, recognizable only by the squeak for which Rahewa found the time before drowning - the monster had shown the grace to leave a second between grabbing Rahewa's feet and pulling, a clear sign that the monster knew about the hazardous effects of such an attack without warning, in particular from a monster hiding behind its jaho.

In a corner of his mind, Clemens was aware of himself registering the scene - probably to store it away, for savouring the memory later, when he'd come to terms with the sheer audacity of this deception. Rahewa had been quicker. Or was it slower?

Clemens had spent seven years thinking about this transit for a single person. Maybe this was the reason - what had been planned, and performed, as the exclusive privilege of his sister Clara suddenly should become a routine event in hospitals and childbeds around the world. Only it would take them quite some time to realize.

The monster broke through the surface, instantly finding itself confronted by an attack from Tony, Cho, and Rahewa. When the united forces failed to grip the monster firmly enough for a baptizing, Cho called Vanessa and Ireen for help, expressing the hope this particular monster might defend itself less fiercely against their untrained support.

The monster dived voluntarily. It re-emerged at the other side and stepped out of the water to grab Romeo and Juliet. With one poodle on each arm, it sat down to await the land attack from its goddaughter.

Theoretically, Clemens could say no. The recipe was his copyright - nobody denied that, least of all Harry. Biochemicals would pay him royalties, whether or not Clemens joined them. He was going to earn more royalties than anyone else in the history of wizard pharmaceuticals - some years from now, that was, when Groucho could breathe again, maybe earlier if the Goblins helped a bit. Even so, he wouldn't be poor in the meantime.

Cho climbed the ladder at this side. She fetched a towel and came in his direction. For a moment, Clemens saw just a birth machine, carefully selected for this presentation - well-formed legs, prominent mons, breasts that would grow during pregnancy until finally sizing down again. The swimsuit seemed a bit thin for such a public demo, and - suddenly, Clemens became aware that this was Cho and that he was staring anywhere but into her face.

---

Cho sat down near him. "Did I pass the exam?"

"What? Er, sorry - I was somewhere else with my thoughts."

"Well, then - shall I walk back and arrive again?"

Clemens smiled, feeling grateful for this - still unfamiliar - lack of embarrassment. "I'd say you passed it even so - and maybe I wouldn't watch as uninhibited as before."

"You still could look at my face." Seeing his expression, Cho laughed. "Never believe a woman who says she'd feel insulted from that, Clemens - it's a lie. What's important - you should finish the examination at her face, and look at her and your eyes telling her she's great. Tony could do that marvellously, only now he's so preoccupied."

Clemens felt prompted to explain. "I'm not yet in that league. I was thinking of women getting children - er, that's why."

Cho shot him a sharp glance. After a moment, she asked, "Are you jealous?"

Clemens started. "Huh?"

Cho quickly scanned around whether some other people were out of earshot. "I just played Harry's game - skipping the three remarks in-between. It works fine; you got me, didn't you?"

"Er, yes. I was asking that myself a moment ago. Yes, maybe a bit, although it's nonsense, but ... Clara got it for free, only it didn't work by itself. I think it's just the shock, hearing that."

"I don't think so. I'd be jealous for sure, in your position. Then Harry would come and say, she was the trigger. She was the reason for you working so long, and that's a privilege nobody else can claim. It's a thousandfold greater than being the only one who benefits."

"Yes, you're right." Clemens looked surprised. "I didn't see it that way."

"Because you hadn't time." Cho wrinkled her nose. "But still, I for myself wouldn't lose a tiny bit of jealousy, so if it's the same with you, at least you know that you're in company."

"Clara wouldn't - I'm sure of that. Well, we're not totally alike."

Looking over his shoulder, Cho said, "It's good to know. By the way, here comes someone who appreciates that a lot."

Two dripping arms fell over Clemens shoulders and on his chest, making him gasp. A head next to his own looked at Cho and asked. "What were you telling him? I saw his ears glow from behind."

"Oh, just ordinary stuff." Cho's eyebrows were raised in utter astonishment.

"Ordinary stuff, I bet. You're just lucky Nagini's still in the water, otherwise you wouldn't dare - "

"No, really! We were talking about the birds - er, weren't we, Clemens? Yes, and about the bees ..."

"Pretty much what I thought." Clemens felt pulled up. "Come with me - a little swimming will cool your mind."

After her first step, Rahewa stopped and whispered importantly, "You should know, this woman's not the proper company for you," making sure her words were heard where Cho was sitting. Then she ran toward the water, while from behind Clemens heard Cho calling, "Now wait - where's my wand? Where's my wand?"

Clemens hadn't really planned to join the others, laughing and splashing through the pool. But woe him he wouldn't follow now - that much was clear. And besides - he still felt a bit young for conversations with Cho. Although - seeing Rahewa in her swimsuit wasn't exactly cooling him down.

* * *

Tony turned to her. "Rumour has it you'd like to have a look into the movie business, behind the scenes. There's a casting a few days from now; if you're interested, it's a good opportunity to see the light and the shadow."

By now, Vanessa felt quite at ease in this environment. Glancing over to the other end of the dinner table, she asked, "Rumour? Does this rumour have a name?"

"Rumour has many names." Tony grinned. "Not quite as many as its daughter, which is called chit-chat, yet enough."

The movie director waited through the laughter. "You could even do an extra - it's one of these teenie horror movies, you'd appear in one scene, maybe two. No text - just a scream, but we could synchronize that."

Vanessa felt intrigued. "And what would I be?"

"Monster food," answered Tony, while serenely loading his dish. "Blond, pretty, and stupid enough to look for this strange noise."

"That she can do blindfolded," called Rahewa.

Vanessa felt thrilled by the thought. She looked at Michael. "What do you think?"

He smiled. "Just do it - we know you can act, don't we?"

"Yes she can!" Rahewa looked at her friend. "C'mon, Van, give us a mudbrain!"

Vanessa felt herself blush.

Tony looked interested. "It's a good test, actually - acting in front of friends, I mean. They behave less professionally than a casting crew."

Vanessa swallowed. For a second, she concentrated, memorizing this particular style she had honed through years. Then she bent forward.

"Ooh, Mr Chee, you're doing movies? Real movies - I mean, those in TV? Wow!" Her lower lip hung slack, her eyes showing admiration and awe. Then she turned to the table. "Hey, folks, did you hear that - he's doing real movies, him." She beamed at Tony, suddenly losing her imbecile grace in favour of a clumsy giddiness.

Next moment, she sat back again. "That's it."

The others applauded. Not so Tony - he stared at her. "That was remarkable." He turned to Cho. "Get her an agent - shall nobody say I'd steal a promising newcomer from under your sweet - er, face."

Not waiting for the response to his remark, Tony turned back to Vanessa, serious again. "You've practised it, that's obvious. But it's all there - face, body, language. It's the real thing."

Vanessa laughed, a bit self-conscious. "Nonsense. First I'm going to finish Hogwarts."

Tony nodded. "Sounds reasonable ... And then give me a call." Toward Michael, he said, "I had something for you too - it's not really acting, no text at all, just playing."

Michael's face, showing rejection at the first words, revealed slight interest. "Playing?"

"Yes - you're sitting in a bar or something like that, never looking into the camera, just sitting and picking - always the same half-total."

"What should that be good for?"

"That's the scene which is shown after each massacre of the monster - except for the big final, then this scene comes first. It's one of those details which make - "

"Gaah ... No, thanks."

Tony shrugged. "Well, I'm in movies, not in music."

The others discussed the idea. Rahewa turned to Harry. "Tell him it's stupid not to do it. You did movies, maybe he'll listen to you."

"Why should he? It's his decision." Harry looked at Michael. "But it's easy money, for a few day's work in the autumn break. Tony might be too tight-fisted for hiring Eric Clapton, but he certainly pays better than Sandy." Harry turned to his daughter. "Who's paying no more today." Then he went to take his daughter to bed.

Vanessa's eyes met Michael's. Looking at each other, they started to grin at the prospect of an unexpected adventure they could face together.

---

When Harry came back, Ireen said, "Someone told me I'd find people here with a knack for games. So how about that?"

Cho peered at her. "Games? What kind?"

Tony grinned. "Not what you have in mind, Cho - she's talking about the kind that's played more with paper and pencil, not with some other items that start with p."

Cho turned to her husband. "Harry, please do me a favour. Fetch Nagini and tell her to strangle him a bit, just so he shuts up."

Ireen still was glaring at Tony. "That sounds like a good idea, really!"

"Okay, okay." Tony held his palms up. "I promise to keep silent, orderly, decent, chast - oh yes, and all the things with p - presentable, proper, pure - "

He didn't continue because by now, Ireen's hand had covered his mouth. She said, "The game's called 'Know your mate.' One couple's a team. We get questions, how we'd react in certain situations - that is, one of each team is asked, and the other has to bet money on the answer he or she thinks the partner will choose. Well, and the team with the most money is the winner."

Harry said, "Sounds interesting - only that all of you are chanceless against Cho and myself. We know each other so much longer than you - "

Tony lifted the hand from his mouth. "Right, and that's why we have to mix up a bit. I, for example, have to play with Vanessa - she's the only one I don't know to some degree or other."

Into the reproachful glances that hit Tony from several sides, Vanessa heard herself saying, "But he's right, you know - and Ireen's the only possible partner left for Harry."

Michael proved himself fastest in party math. He looked at Rahewa. "Rage, that makes us a team - we kept strangers to each other through all these years, right?"

Cho smiled at Clemens. "We're the leftovers. But the last will be the first, mark my words!"

Ireen came with some cards, some notepads, and a box that looked like a quattro cash register. "Here look - the account of each team is public knowledge, so you know where you are, and feel challenged to place higher bids."

The money, which existed only in some display numbers, was called Luckies. Each question, as Ireen explained, had four possible answers. The team partner could bet on the right answer - this would pay five times the stake. Or he could bet on one or two answers he expected to be dismissed, which paid only double.

The teams had to split, so they couldn't peek at their partner's writing. In one round, the same question would be asked to all women, in the next round, another question to all men. There were two card piles, one for the male and one for the female questions.

"No cheating," admonished Ireen. "You have to answer honestly, to the best of your knowledge."

Harry asked, "Shall I get Nagini?"

A vast majority declined this offer of a living lie-detector.

Cho turned to her husband. "And you stop spying - you have to guess and bet like all the others." Her next glance hit Rahewa's grin squarely. "The same goes for you, young lady."

"Okay - ladies first," said Harry and drew the topmost card from the pink pile. After studying it for a few seconds, he started to grin, then read aloud:

When Harry placed the card in the middle, Tony looked into the round with a blank expression. "Who's Leda?"

Still searching for the right words, Vanessa heard Harry saying, "Don't answer - he knows the story well."

Tony grinned. "Well - it was worth a try."

---

Vanessa examined the alternatives, one worse than the other. How could she answer honestly if none of them ... Glancing up, she saw that Tony had already signed his bid and had placed it face-down in the middle. Oh no - they'd lose money, she knew it!

What would she choose? What would Tony think she would ... Feeling desperate, Vanessa marked (A), then folded her sheet.

Tony smiled at her. "We're getting rich, trust me."

Ireen demanded that the women should explain their choice, as proof that they hadn't cheated, and of course as part of the fun. When it was her turn, Vanessa said, "It was the one where I thought I'd find something to say if they'd ask me."

Ireen turned to Tony. "And? What's your bid?"

Triumph in his face, Tony presented his sheet.

Vanessa gasped. He had put their complete account on (D) - as non-choice. They were leading.

Ireen drew the first card from the blue pile for the men. For Vanessa, this question seemed easy to bet on, after she had listened to Tony's jokes.

Vanessa couldn't make up her mind whether Tony's choice would be (A) or (D), and betting on two different options was only allowed as non-choices. However, Tony had shown her a way - she put their complete account on (C) as something he wouldn't choose.

He hadn't. Even so, they were no longer leading - in a hazardous gamble, Cho had put almost everything on (B), and she was right.

Rahewa gaped at Clemens. "You really would?"

"I had to take a choice, hadn't I?" Clemens seemed somewhat uneasy. "D - no thanks. C is just too pretentious - maybe once I'm rich, but ... And A - can somebody tell me what's so interesting on a saucepan in the lap?"

Cho giggled. "It wasn't the pan, but never mind."

For an instant, Vanessa's eyes met Tony's, which showed silent amusement. Tony had selected (A).

During the next rounds, Vanessa and Tony could increase the distance to the other two teams, while Cho and Clemens seemed to storm off and away, mostly from Cho's daring investments. Then came the card which changed things - a question for the men:

Vanessa had quite some fun reading the card again. She put a considerable amount on (B), and right she was - Tony had choosen this option, explaining he didn't care much for Hawaii shirts and running from hot liquids and burning ashes.

---

Two other women had betted for the same, failing spectacularly. The first was Ireen. When Harry showed his choice, which was (D), Ireen stared at him thunderstruck. "You'd hunt bears?? I can't believe it."

"Of course not!" Harry smiled apologetically. "What I had in mind was reaching the place with them - and then to team up with the bears, hunting the hunters, probably as a dragon." He grinned. "They'd never go hunting again." Then he looked at their account, nearly broke. "Never mind, Ireen - you were on the right track, except you weren't fully aware of my extended capabilities."

The other was Cho. She stared at Clemens. "A? You took A? What's wrong with you?"

Clemens stood her glare calmly. "Nothing's wrong - I just give a damn for gambling, and what's so bad about a nice afternoon with a young woman, and then watching a spectacle of nature?"

Examining the four accounts, Cho muttered something under her breath. Had to be Chinese, because Vanessa didn't get a word.

"Last round," announced Ireen. "A final question for both sides." She took the pink card.

Listening, seeing Tony's determined face, Vanessa felt the sweat in her palms. It was now or never, and then these choices!

She thought it over, trying to imagine herself marrying any of these characters. At this moment, Cho said to Clemens, "It's make or break - don't forget. And think deviously."

Harry looked at his wife. "Why don't you just tell him what you're going for?"

Cho smiled sweetly. "Because it's not allowed, that's why."

Vanessa realized that there was just one choice. She marked (C) and folded her sheet. When she announced her choice moments later, Tony moaned.

Vanessa twisted. "Don't tell me you took the wrong choice!"

"I was so sure you'd go for the romantic." Then Tony grinned. "Except I wasn't entirely sure - look here."

He had put the full account on (A), as non-choice.

Cho opened her sheet. "My choice is A, quite obviously so - "

"What??" Clemens looked flabbergasted.

"Damn - didn't I tell you to think deviously? Yes, A - I'd marry him, hire a private eye, divorce him by taking most of his fortune with me, and then marry the cab-driver."

"Shit," said Clemens - to everybody's surprise but his own. "And I thought you'd marry him instantly because you're rich anyway."

The last question for the men was meaningless. Vanessa and Tony had scored close to the stratosphere. Cho and Clemens were totally broke, Harry and Ireen poor but living, and Michael and Rahewa had placed themselves almost in the middle between these extremes.

---

For the rest of the evening, Vanessa listened to a heated discussion about unrealistic scenarios and the bad luck of having a Mr Nice Guy as partner when it was all about business.

This discussion was performed mostly between Cho and Tony. Smiling like a buddha, Tony said, "Save it, Cho. You're just the worst loser I ever saw."

"Sure I am. So what?" Cho turned to Ireen. "Isn't this the idea? Letting it all out? If I'd won, I'd be content myself to sit there and grin stupidly." With a sideward glance to Clemens, she added menacingly, "But I didn't."

"Poor Cho." Rahewa's face was mocking. "Remind me to pity you. Gimme a call - say, Monday?"

Cho hissed something in Chinese.

Tony lost his benign smile. He started to laugh, his body twisting and shaking.

"What did she say? What did she say?"

Tony shook his head. "Sorry, Rahewa, I better not." He turned to Ireen. "Let's go, honey, this is the right time."

Cho, looking much relieved, beamed at Rahewa. "I'm not going to tell you, but you have an insult free." Then she hugged Ireen. "This was a marvellous idea, this game. I feel wonderfully refreshed - I hope I didn't scare you."

Then it was time to go to bed.

Vanessa felt some anxiousness in herself, still more expectation. The previous night they had slept front to back, she and Michael, after a long day with the time difference. She had felt his erection, and because he fell asleep first, she had felt it fade.

Coming out of the bathroom, she found him sitting on the bedside. He glanced up, slight surprise in his eyes - to find her still fully dressed, no doubt. The previous evening, she had used the bathroom to change into her pyjamas.

She said, "I thought - er, we'd do it for each other. Undressing, I mean."

"That's ... I'm back in a minute." Michael went into the bathroom.

Vanessa thought about her conversation with Samantha, who had told her that this other girl had waited until the last possible opportunity, using the time pressure as another incentive. She did the same - tomorrow evening, they would be back at Hogwarts.

Then she thought about this guest room, and whether it was by accident that they had been assigned the one that was farthest away from the other bedrooms.

Michael came out and closed the door. He stopped and stood there.

Feeling her heartbeat, almost painfully, Vanessa rose. "Keep still."

She unbuttoned his shirt and took it off. He didn't wear an undershirt. She trailed first his chest, then his stomach with her fingers. "Now you."

His fingers took her T-shirt and pulled it over her head. When her hair came free, a slight crackling sound could be heard. His hands moved over her hair, calming down the streaks. His head bent closer to kiss her.

"Not yet," she said. "This is about undressing."

"Strict rules, huh?"

His voice sounded unsteady, while his fingers were firm when unhooking her bra - a guitar player's fingers, swift with such small items.

Her own voice not scoring much better, maybe except for the determination, Vanessa said, "Touching's part of it."

---

He adjusted quickly, his palms stroking her breasts, holding them an instant, his thumbs gliding over her nipples, almost reluctantly leaving, to follow the rest of his hands striding over her belly. Then he stood again.

Her fingers reached his jeans, about to open the button and the zip when Michael said, "Socks first."

"What?"

"I - I always thought, I'll take out the socks first, because - someone in underwear, with the socks still on, that looks so ..."

She stripped off his socks, then resumed her former task. Taking off jeans was a clumsy task at best, but she didn't care, cared more not to hurt him. When she touched it, she heard him gasp, felt his stiffening.

Then it was his turn, until she stood before him in her panties. After a second's hesitation, she felt his fingers at the inside of her thighs.

"Take it off."

He did, was kneeling there, staring transfixed at her mound.

She pulled him up, knelt down to strip him completely, careful to release his member without hurting him. When she touched it, she heard him moan.

"Let's lie down."

Lying face to face, they looked at each other for a while. He asked, "How do you feel?"

"Making progress." She rose on her elbow. "Like an explorer." She took his cock in her hand, moving it, probing it.

"Van - please, that won't go for long ..."

"That's just fine - I want to see it. Does this sound too scientific to you?"

"Dunno. Ask me later."

Like in trance, while still registering the growing warmth in her lower belly, the growing stickiness between her legs, she watched his cock twist and jerk under her caressing, his balls going tight, his hips move, his body going rigid, heard his groan, felt the contractions when he came.

She bent to his face and kissed him, then smiled. "Lie still - I'll get a towel."

Coming back with the moistened towel, cleaning him carefully, she said, "I just don't know how sensitive it is."

"The balls are really touchy - the rest can take quite a push."

She rubbed said rest a bit stronger. "Like that?" When he gasped, she stopped quickly. "Did I hurt you?"

"Not at all. When I said it can take a push, I didn't mean it's insensitive, not the least, actually."

She beamed. "No, it's not."

Michael propped himself up. He took the towel out of her hands and dropped it to the floor, then pushed her gently down. His hand moved over her breasts, her belly, to her thighs, pulling them slightly more apart. She felt his fingers gliding over her tuft, reaching her lips, touching them, probing them, raising her pulse and her breathing. Then he said, "I'm glad to find you didn't stay untouched from this scientific excourse."

"No. It was fantastic."

"Okay, then - today's lesson is about excourses, with intercourses some time afterwards, right?"

She could only nod, busy to breathe while his hand played over her body, to savour his touch, to savour the absence of panic, registering how he kept his other hand off, how he was carefully avoiding to probe deeper, a guitar player slowly getting in tune with a new instrument.

And her strings could vibrate, oh yes they could, not issuing the slightest dischord.

She heard him move. Opening her eyes, she saw him shift down, placing himself between her legs. For a short instant, she stiffened, then she realized what he had in mind, hardly suited to calm her down.

He saw her glance. "You could watch in close-up. It's all new to me too."

Feeling his fingers at her thighs, at her core, at her most sensitive spot, any protest inside her was dying, replaced by warmth, heat, the urge for more.

His lips touched her. The thought felt unpleasent for an instant, then the sensations washed off her doubts.

When she felt his mouth resting on herself, his tongue playing around and along and a bit deeper, she had no room left for anything but desire, no thought other than it was him who gave this to her. She felt her own tremble, his hands holding her firmly, his tongue stroking her, felt a wave build up in her, build and build ... When it broke, she was unaware of her arching up, of her hands clutching his hair, pressing his head toward her body.

Coming awake, seeing his shining eyes, feeling his new erection, she pulled at him. "Come. Come into me - now."

"You sure?"

"No I'm not. But come! ... Slowly."

Hearing her moan, he stopped. She shook her head. "It's ... go on."

When she felt his stomach muscles on her own belly, she pulled his torso down onto her body, feeling his lips at her shoulder. "Okay. Now say it."

"Vanessa, I love you."

She held him tight. "I - I'll answer you in a few days, when I'm sure about what I feel."

"I can wait."

"But you shouldn't wait with something else, and don't worry if I can't follow - that'll come in due time, like the rest."

Feeling his careful movements, Vanessa's mind and soul were jubilating - about the tensing which didn't come, about the confidence which grew with his every push, about the prospect of him coming inside her.

* * *

The room looked familiar meanwhile. The faces - Harry would remember them as of now as certainly as those of Moroney and Wynor, most of all that of the old guy. And, unsurprisingly, today it was the old guy who spoke.

"Ambassador, this Council has taken your request into careful consideration. It has weighed the arguments. It has judged the motivations and obligations. It has also used the time to reconsider the role of Goblins in the world. At the end, it has come to a decision."

So far, so good.

"The Goblin community accepts your request. The Goblins will be a driving force in the efforts required to spread magic all over this world, until humankind has magic power in common like language today."

They did it. They really did it.

"We express our devotion to this goal. We consider ourselves honoured beyond measure. We stand in awe and respect, facing destiny and the touch of a superior being."

Harry knew that feeling.

"Your first task is performed, Ambassador. For your second task, this Council and the Goblin community wish you the longest time of preparation that is within reach of your race. When the time comes to assign this duty further, as well as in the years before, this Council will gladly assist you in this decision."

In other words, the discussions about his successor would be less formal, and Harry's saying, although it couldn't be overruled, was not the only one. Still more important - nobody was in a hurry with that.

Which was a great feeling.

"According to this state, the title Ambassador is no longer suitable. After so many years, the Goblin community has a new Excellence ... Harry Potter, our new Excellence, this is a memorable day."

Harry bowed.

"There are many details. You should know about all of them, and we are interested to hear your opinion about some of them. Wynor the Whistler has accepted the task of informing you and other people involved."

Which was very convenient and effective. The Goblins had a nice habit - they cut formalities to the bare minimum - except for these crazy titles. Coming to his decision at once, Harry said, "High Council, I have a last question."

After a second's waiting, when nobody spoke, he continued, "I accept the new title as I accepted the duty altogether. As it is present in our minds anyway when talking with each other, is it possible to call me just Harry Potter?"

The old guy's face wasn't moving. "This is possible, Harry Potter, and we will do so. Of course, for every Goblin, the inevitable effect is that your name and your title will become almost synonymous."

He'd been wrong. There was a movement in this leathery face, at least now. And if Harry wasn't completely mistaken, at this moment he could watch a deep grin.