Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link

IMPORTANT NOTE: Notification about Chapter 12 did not appear in the Chapter Owls, so if you rely on them for new chapter notification, please be sure you have read Chapter 12 before continuing. Thank you.

Chapter 13

Anywhere But Home

The first thing he saw as he walked out of the fireplace was a half-empty glass of water on the coffee table. Someone's been living here, I see, he thought. Realizing he wanted no one coming through, he pointed his wand at the fireplace. "Deny admittance for... one hour," he said, deciding that would be long enough. Then he cast a spell on the house, disallowing entrance by Apparition.

He walked upstairs to his room, opened the top drawer near his bed, and pulled out the Elder Wand. Now, he had no choice. He found his bottomless bag, went over to the artifact box, and poured them all into it. He could sort them out later.

He walked downstairs, heading over to the mail desk, but after one step, heard steps coming down the stairs behind him. "Who's..." Dudley gave a start. "Harry! You're back!" he grinned. "When did this happen?"

Harry was in no mood to explain anything; he just wanted to get as far away from everything as possible. "Dudley, would you please leave," he asked, expressionlessly. "I need to be alone for a while."

"What do you mean, you need to be alone?" Dudley demanded, his grin fading. "Everyone's been worried about you, they're going to want to know what happened, you can't just--"

"Dudley, I said--" Harry cut himself off as, looking at the mail desk, he saw that the letter he'd started to Luna was in a different direction than he'd left it. He pointed at it. "Did you read that?"

"Read what?" asked Dudley defensively. It suddenly occurred to Harry, without a doubt, that Dudley was lying; he knew exactly what Harry meant, but was trying to buy time to think of an answer. Harry wasn't sure how he knew, but he was sure he was right.

"You know what! That letter. Did you read that letter?"

"No, I didn't! You know, you--"

Again, Harry recognized a lie. "Yes, you did! Did you tell anyone what it said?"

Dudley was flustered. "No! I mean, I--"

Yet another lie. "Who?" Harry demanded, anger at Kingsley coming out at Dudley.

"I didn't tell him, but... Ron saw it too. We talked about it," Dudley admitted, embarrassed.

Great, thought Harry. At the same time, he found it hard to care. Nothing mattered. "Dudley, I need you to leave."

"Listen, Harry, what's going on? I mean, you come back, and--"

Harry fought to remain calm. "Dudley, I swear to God, I'll Stun you if you don't leave here in the next ten seconds."

"What the hell kind of attitude is that? We've been--"

Dudley collapsed under Harry's Stunner, which to Harry's surprise he could see despite having tried to use a low-intensity Stunner. I didn't exactly give him ten seconds, Harry thought, but he clearly wasn't going anywhere. But how the hell did I know he was lying? It was like a sense I didn't know I had until now.

He sat down at the desk, and saw Dumbledore's portrait in the frame. "Hello, Albus."

"Good afternoon, Harry. I am most pleased to see you back, though saddened at the obvious distress you are in. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Harry shook his head. "Thanks, but there's nothing you can do."

"I gather the goblins were rather rough with you."

"They were, but it wasn't what the goblins did. It was what Kingsley did, but it's something I can't talk about."

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Auror Leader."

Harry's eyebrows went high. "You know about it?"

"I know the test; I took it. I guessed that you had been given it. Judging by your emotional state, I would guess that you passed."

"Yes." The pain hit him again; he felt ashamed, as if he had made the wrong choice, as if it meant he cared nothing for his family and friends.

Dumbledore nodded sympathetically. "I am sorry, Harry. I myself failed. I, like most people who take it, supposed it to be primarily a test of magical skill and daring. When the time came, I found that I could not sacrifice... what I had for so long desired, and finally had."

Harry grunted. "I wish I had done what you did. I am not going to be Auror Leader. I'm getting away from here, far away. I'm sorry, Albus, but would you mind if I focused on doing a few things I need to do before I leave?" His tone was businesslike, not friendly and respectful as it usually was with Dumbledore.

Dumbledore seemed not to take offense. "Of course, Harry."

Harry looked around the desk, picked up the letter-in-progress to Luna, and looked it over again. It seemed like he had written the first part a very long time ago, another life ago. He picked up a pen, and added a section.

It's a long while later; I just got back to my home, after being kidnapped. That was bad, but something happened after they rescued me that was worse, that I'm not allowed to talk about. (Forgetfulness Charm; please don't repeat any of this to anyone.) I'm leaving, and I don't know when I'll be back. I don't think I'll be able to keep in touch, but I wanted to thank you for all your help. I wish I could talk to you more, but I really need to get away from here.

He folded the letter, put it in an envelope and wrote her name on it, reached over to put it where he usually put letters to be sent... and realized that Kreacher would not conveniently be along to deliver it, or get it delivered. Annoyed, he looked up at Dumbledore. "Albus, would you... ask Hermione to make sure this gets delivered?"

"Of course."

"Thanks." He went up to Sirius's bedroom and thought more about what he wanted to pack; he took a few sets of clothes, but except for the artifacts, he couldn't think of anything else. Oh, yeah, gold. He went downstairs, opened the safe, and taking from his canister as opposed to those of the bank, withdrew what he guessed to be a thousand Galleons. That should do me for quite a while, he thought. Anything else I need? Oh, yeah, the Firebolt. Never know when that'll come in handy. He Summoned it from his bedroom, put it into the bag, and looked around. He saw a copy of the Prophet on a chair near the sofa. Don't care, he thought. He had no interest at all in what was going on in wizarding England, and was similarly uninterested in the several dozen letters awaiting him at his desk.

He walked over to Dumbledore's portrait. "I'm leaving, Albus. I don't know when or if I'll be back. All I know is I need to be far, far away, someplace where nobody knows who the hell I am. I'd appreciate it if nobody tried to find me, or get in contact with me."

"Of course, Harry," said Dumbledore gravely. "My affection and best wishes go with you."

"Thanks," said Harry. He threw on his Invisibility Cloak and Disapparated.

* * * * *

An hour later, Hermione, Fleur, Dudley, and all Weasleys except Ginny assembled at Grimmauld Place, in the living room. Kingsley came through the fireplace, and four people started talking at once. "Kingsley, where have you been?" demanded Arthur. "You've been gone from the Ministry for over a day, nobody knew where you were. It was rumored you'd rescued Harry, but nobody who knew anything was saying anything. Now what is going on? Where is he, and why did he attack Dudley?"

"And, was it really even him?" put in Ron. "That really doesn't sound like him."

Kingsley sighed; this wasn't going to be fun, and there was too much he couldn't tell them. "It was him. We rescued him about thirty hours ago. He had been subjected to torture, and later, sleep deprivation." Ron and Hermione exchanged expressions of sadness and concern. "When we got to him, he was very disoriented, which is what sleep deprivation does. That was when he called Kreacher; we suspect he thought of it before, but didn't do it. When he did it... Kreacher was obliterated by a trap involving projectile weapons. We came through the portal less than a minute after he died. He'd been reduced to goop, which was all over the place, and all over Harry."

"Oh, my God," murmured Hermione, a tear rolling down her cheek. Ron put an arm around her.

"We encountered no resistance; we think they had no idea that we could do what we did," Kingsley continued. "We discovered, to our surprise, that he wasn't in Gringotts after all, but in an isolated building not in any of the usual wizard or goblin areas. We got him back to an Auror hideaway.

"And... I'm sorry, but this is where I have to stop. Something happened after that, something that's so top-security that I can't tell you even though I trust you all. I'll say only this: it was something we asked of him, without his consent. It was extremely difficult, and was, as it happened, emotionally devastating for him. That's all I can tell you."

"My ass!" said Ron loudly and angrily. "You're going to have to do better than that! This is Harry you're talking about! You're going to tell us what happened!"

"I'm sorry, Ron, but I'm not." Kingsley's tone was flat, and final.

"I'm sorry, Kingsley, but you are," came a voice that everyone present had forgotten about : Dumbledore's. "They deserve to know. You can put them under Forgetfulness Charms. But if you do not tell them, I will... without Forgetfulness Charms."

"You're bluffing. Harry's under the Charm as well, he couldn't have told you."

"Unless I knew already, which I do. I took the test as well, long ago."

"I could blast your picture off the wall," said Kingsley coolly.

"Kingsley!" gasped Molly. "This is Professor Dumbledore you're talking about!"

"You could not reach my other portraits," responded Dumbledore evenly, "Not in time, anyway, before I had spread word of what happened far and wide. A portrait, you see, is no longer under the influence of a Forgetfulness Charm. I suggest that you do not try me."

Kingsley stared at the portrait, clearly considering whether to challenge Dumbledore, who spoke again, more softly. "I know there are good security reasons not to divulge the details of how it works. But are you sure you have no other motive for not wishing to tell them?"

"What do you mean?"

"You made a mistake--"

"It wasn't a mistake--"

"So, you do not think that giving an extremely emotionally stressful test to a seventeen-year-old--a test that 99% of those who take it, including you and me, fail--who has been through what he has been through was not a mistake? The results speak for themselves, Kingsley. Part of maturity is admitting when you are wrong."

"There are things you don't know," countered Kingsley, "that justify taking the chance. And those of us who know can't go around telling people."

"You will tell them. I was serious about my threat."

Kingsley regarded Dumbledore for another minute, much as one would size up a potential adversary before a fight. Dumbledore stared back, then added, "Forgetfulness Charms are good enough, Kingsley. You know that. And even if they were not, these people can be trusted. Further, no one else can take the test during Harry's lifetime, meaning that no one here--"

"All right, all right," interrupted Kingsley impatiently. He took a deep breath, and addressed his impatient audience. "First... is there anyone here... well, Dudley won't know, but is there anyone else here who doesn't know about the concept of 'Auror Leader?'" He waved his wand as he spoke, casting the spell that would cause the person to forget what he or she was going to say if they tried to tell another person who didn't already know the secret.

Half of those watching raised their hands; Molly and Arthur exchanged shocked looks. "It's not taught at Hogwarts, but I've read about in outside history books," said an astonished Hermione. "It said there have only been fifteen in the last thousand and two hundred years."

Kingsley briefly explained the authority of the Auror Leader. "There is an ancient device that the Aurors have control over. It's a little like the veil in the Department of Mysteries; no one knows who built it or how it works. A person lies on the surface in the center of the device. He or she has to be tired and disoriented for the process to work, which is exactly how we found Harry.

"The device adjusts the person's memory, causing him to wake up thinking that his world is a certain way, and that that's the way it's always been. They wake up, they think life is as usual, but in reality, they're still in that device."

"Virtual reality," supplied Dudley. At the others' quizzical looks, he added, "That's what Muggles call it."

"Yes, that's exactly right," agreed Kingsley, recalling the phrase from his experience in the Muggle world. "There are certain parameters, and the device adjusts the person's memory to fit those parameters. In Harry's case, his 'reality' was that his parents never died, nor did Sirius.

"For most details of this alternate life... this is what the device does that makes it truly remarkable, and why we want it kept a secret. It somehow reaches into... all possible human knowledge, and creates a thoroughly believable reality based on the given parameters. When I took the test, people in my reality told me things, private things, that they had never told anyone. After the test, I was able to confirm those things, and two people were utterly shocked that I knew something that I couldn't possibly have known. The reality that I inhabited was, arguably, what would have happened if things had gone a different way.

"I don't know many of the details of Harry's reality when he was there. But he spent what was, for him, over a week in this reality, though in real time it was about a day. I only know that he lived in his parents' home. He was also told that he was an Auror. In this reality, he had been made an Auror at the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts."

"But how did he remember the year he spent with us, tracking down Voldemort?" asked Hermione.

"As with everything else that's inconsistent with his real memories, the device and his unconscious mind combined to create a new memory of events that was consistent with the new information he'd been given. He probably remembered what he did with you; he just remembered it differently.

"The device creates a scenario. It's basically the same for everyone who takes the test, though the details may be different based on what makes the most sense for the subject's reality. The scenario is a dire threat to wizarding society, one that if not averted will cause the death of every wizard in England. There are four tests, four parts of the scenario that if not successfully navigated will result in failure. The person must pass all four.

"The first is a very difficult situation involving the person's Auror-related skills; in Harry's case, his skill on a broom. Over fifty percent of subjects fail this portion, and all are very skilled. The reason is that the Auror leader has to be able to be respected for some exceptional skill, and demonstrate that skill. Harry's version was a little similar to the Horntail, but much harder.

"The second is a hostage situation; it ends up with the necessity of killing the hostage-taker... in cold blood. The test here is that you have to be able to do something morally wrong on the face of it, for a greater purpose, to save thousands of lives. But it has to hurt. Some people wash out of the test at this point because they kill the person without remorse, without sadness. The device knows; if it causes you no pain, you fail the test.

"The third is that you're with another Auror, and you find an obstacle that to get past, you or the other Auror must sacrifice yourself. The test is to just do it, give yourself up. If you tell the other Auror what the situation is, discuss who should be the one to die, you fail. To pass, you must give up your life to save his, without telling him. This ensures that the Auror Leader will be respected by Aurors, because they know that he would give his life for theirs. They would die for him, because he would for them. I knew Harry would pass this, of course, because he's done it before. Still, it's part of the test." Most of the Weasleys looked stricken, knowing what Harry had already been through.

"The last one... is the hardest, and where I failed," went on Kingsley, years-old pain unconsciously creeping into his voice and expression. "The scenario sets up a situation in which the subject's loved ones are threatened by the bad guys. He can save them, but only by abandoning his mission. In the end, his choice is: leave the mission, save his loved ones, but know that it'll result in thousands of deaths. Or... finish the mission, save society... and watch friends and family killed, one by one. The scenario ends when you've accomplished your mission... by which time, everyone you love is dead, whom you could have saved. In Harry's case, the people were his parents, Sirius, and Ron and Hermione."

Hermione started to sob. "Are you out of your mind?" shouted an outraged Ron. "How could you do this to him? After what he's been through, what his life has been like? I thought you cared about him--"

"I do!" shouted Kingsley, glaring at Ron. "I know what he went through! You think I'm happy about it? You don't think I wanted to let him rest and relax? I said he'd earned it, and I meant it--"

"But you were just waiting for the right moment to throw him into this meat grinder--"

"We need him! Society needs him, and the Aurors need him! I did it because his being Auror Leader will probably save lives. The reason is internal matters that I definitely can't tell you, and Dumbledore can't either because he doesn't know. Harry could, but he's gone. But I told him about the problems before he was kidnapped. He knows why I did it."

"And he doesn't blame you?" asked Fleur incredulously.

"Are you kidding? Of course he blames me. He hates my guts right now. And I don't blame him. But I did it for important reasons--"

"Just tell me one thing," Ron interrupted heatedly. "Tell me that it was really the goblins who kidnapped him, that it wasn't you, doing it so you could put him through this test, and blaming it on the goblins."

There was silence; Kingsley's eyes narrowed, as if Ron was reaching the limit of what Kingsley would tolerate. "What?" Ron persisted defiantly. "You would put him through this horrible test, the worst trauma of his life--which is really saying something, in his case--make him think everyone he loved died because of him, but oh no, you wouldn't kidnap him to do that, because it would be wrong? Why, how could I possibly think you would do such a thing?"

Kingsley's eyes remained on Ron. "He has a point," said Fleur. "If you would do the one, why would you not do the other?"

After another short silence, Kingsley said to Ron, "If I told you, would you believe me?"

Ron paused, thinking it over. Finally, he answered. "Yes, I will."

"Why?"

"Because you passed the third test, before failing the fourth one."

Kingsley nodded. "I appreciate your remembering that. The answer is no, I didn't. I would have asked him to take the test. But I'll also ask you to believe that if the result could have been achieved by my going through that instead of him, I would have done it. But you only get to take the test once. I care about Harry, I do. But if there's one thing I learned from failing the fourth test, it's that you have to do what's best for society, not just one person."

"But why is such a harsh test necessary?" asked Fleur.

"Because," explained Kingsley, "the Auror Leader has extremely broad power, and not only as an Auror. He is, literally, above the law. He is trusted to do what's best for society. He could kill someone and not be punished for it, even if there appeared to be no good reason. The price for having that kind of power is demonstrating, in such a difficult way, that you're worthy of it, and can be trusted with it."

"But Harry never wanted power, or anything like that," protested Hermione.

Kingsley nodded sadly. "I know. But power is sometimes given to those who don't want it, and maybe it's better that way. The great... irony, or tragedy, of Harry's life is that he's such an exceptional person that he'll always be asked to serve, needed by society. And he'll do it, because it's his nature to do it. He proved that by passing the fourth test. He is the Auror Leader now. I do believe he'll be back."

"Do you know where he is?" asked Molly. "Albus, did he say anything about that?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "I believe he himself did not know. But I know that he wished for no one to follow him, or find him. He needs to be away from everything familiar, to sort things out. Having been through this test, I find his desire... utterly understandable. We should respect his wishes. He will be all right."

Kingsley answered the first question anyway. "After he left the area with the device, I had the magic observers focus on Muggle areas, figuring he'd want to go where he wouldn't be recognized. At 3:44 p.m., there was an Apparition in the backyard of 4 Privet Drive."

Dudley's eyebrows went high. "Why would he go there?"

"I think he just went there to get his bearings, decide what to do next," answered Kingsley. "One minute after that, someone--it had to be him, of course--Apparated to a location in that neighborhood called the Bookword."

"The Bookworm," Dudley corrected him. "It's the nearest bookstore in the area. But why..."

"Five minutes later, there was another Apparition, at Heathrow Airport. Not inside; the outskirts."

Understanding dawned on Dudley. "A map."

"Almost certainly," agreed Kingsley. "An Auror was dispatched to the airport, and observed him from a distance. He was using his Cloak, but the Auror could see parts of his broom. He got on it, flew next to a plane, near the windows, landed... then Apparated onto the plane. A few minutes later, it took off."

"Where was it headed?" asked Molly.

"We don't know," said Kingsley. "All we know is that it was British Airways. But what's most interesting is that--"

"He didn't know," exclaimed Dudley.

"That's right," said Kingsley. "He just picked a plane at random--one, I guess, that had extra seats. His actions point to the notion that he just wanted to get as far away as possible, it didn't matter where."

George spoke for the first time. "Well, good job."

Clearly trying to control himself, Kingsley answered, "I understand your feelings, and I wasn't looking forward to telling you this. But I have to think about what's best for everyone. I took a chance, and it blew up in my face. But when you're responsible for many lives, like I am... and when you've made a decision to give up your life so another person doesn't have to... you feel a certain entitlement to ask something of another person. Even something as huge as this."

"Yes, but you didn't ask him, you--"

"Ron," interrupted his father. "We know how you feel. But enough's enough. Kingsley's explained himself adequately. You don't have to agree with his decision, but there's no point in haranguing him further. It's done."

Ron glared at his father, then angrily walked over to the other side of the room, sitting in the chair furthest from the wall with Dumbledore's portrait. Hermione's eyes followed him with concern, but she stayed where she was.

"So... what do we tell people, when they want to know where Harry is?" asked Bill.

"If I may," said Dumbledore, "It may be best that no one knows for now that he was given the test, or that he passed it. Not quite knowing the dire nature of the test, people may feel that he has abandoned a responsibility. It may be better to simply say that he was rescued, has recovered, and has now decided that after all his troubles, he needs a change of scenery, and so has decided to embark on a long journey overseas. This would be very believable, as some wizards his age do this very thing; it also has the virtue of, while not being the whole truth, not being a lie."

Kingsley slowly nodded. "That makes sense. Does anyone here have any objections to this being the official story?" No one spoke. "I ask because you have to put out the same story in private. We know how fast gossip spreads. If someone asks you what happened to Harry, and you refuse to say anything, or hint that what they read in the Prophet wasn't the whole story, it'll fuel rumors. You can say something like, 'he wasn't doing well' or 'he had a tough time,' because it's consistent with his kidnapping." Again, there was no comment.

"All right. Does anyone have any other questions about this before I leave?"

"What was his reaction," asked Hermione, "when you told him he was Auror Leader?"

"He didn't understand it until I explained that I was responsible for what happened to him. He couldn't believe it at first, then he was furious, used a certain four-letter word a few times, said he had no intention of being Auror Leader, then left."

She looked at Ron in surprise. "Have you ever heard him use that word?"

Ron shook his head. "No. But I'm not surprised." She understood from his expression that he'd had the urge to use it with Kingsley himself.

"It is, indeed, not an unexpected response to such news," put in Dumbledore. "What is more indicative of his state of mind was his treatment of Dudley, which I witnessed. He was simply not ready to deal with anyone, after the trauma and loss he had suffered. He needs time to process it. Which I assume, Kingsley, is why you did not insist that he stay."

Kingsley nodded. "In other circumstances, I would have. But almost anyone would have reacted the way he did."

"But he didn't really suffer a loss, did he?" wondered Dudley. "Now that he knows his parents were never alive, shouldn't he get over it more quickly than if they had really died?"

"It does not work that way, Dudley," explained Dumbledore. "First of all, as they say, a bell once rung cannot be un-rung. It was real for him, so the emotional experience was extremely real. Secondly, it must be viewed in the context of his whole life. You know, better than anyone here, what his childhood was like. He never had parents who loved him."

"And now," Hermione continued, "he's sitting on a plane, not only feeling horrible about what happened, but thinking that he finally had a nice family life, he got to know what it was like, only to have it torn away from him."

"That poor boy," said Molly sadly. "He needs help."

"Mum, he wouldn't take it, no matter where it came from," said Ron from across the room. "He just needs to be alone. I think he'll be all right."

"Indeed, as I have said, Harry is quite resilient," said Dumbledore. "But this will take some time. We should have no expectations that Harry will be back any time soon. An absence of even a year would not be out of the question."

"Kingsley," asked Dudley, "did what happened to him, like, change him in any way? I mean, except for the emotional stuff you said. Does that machine do anything to you?"

"Well, it's a device, not a machine, but yes," said Kingsley, regarding Dudley with interest. "Did you notice something?"

"No," said Dudley unconvincingly. "Just wondering."

Kingsley gave Dudley an extra second's stare before continuing. "Yes, I hadn't gotten around to mentioning this, but the old scrolls that talk about the Auror Leader say that 'he will be more than he was.' This is vague, but many feel that it means that the device confers enhancements of power or abilities, or extra abilities. It would make sense; extra abilities would be a reasonable thing to give someone who's proven that he merits them, and would use them wisely."

There were no further questions, and Kingsley soon left.

* * * * *

"Would you like something to drink, sir?"

Harry looked up and saw a young, pretty Asian woman looking down at him solicitously. "Umm..." He was going to say no, but something to drink sounded good; also, he realized he was hungry. "What do you have?"

"Oh, almost everything, sir. Beer, wine, cocktails, juice, soft drinks, coffee..."

"Soft drink, then. Uh, Coke, I guess."

"Certainly, sir." She gave him the can, and a glass with several ice cubes. "Would you like a snack? Nuts, or crackers?"

"Can I have both?"

She smiled as she put both on his tray. "Of course, sir. Meal service will begin in thirty minutes, but you can choose to eat at any time."

I thought you had to eat when they brought it, he thought. Oh yeah, this is first class, I forgot. "As soon as possible, please."

"Certainly, sir. I'll be by with a menu in a few minutes." With another smile, she moved on to the next seat.

He tilted the seat back and tried to relax. He'd almost forgotten that the Apparition sound might be heard when he came on board, but no one seemed to notice, since the plane's engine made quite a bit of noise anyway. He'd been able to approach the empty seat under the Cloak, and cast a spell to make sure no one looked at him as he took it off; a mild Confundus Curse had been enough to convince the flight attendants that he had boarded the plane along with everyone else. Just to be on the safe side, he had done the curse on the two people sitting nearest to him.

The flight attendant reminded him of Cho; not just because she was Asian, but there was some resemblance. Thinking of Cho reminded him of the alternate reality he'd experienced so very recently. Not that it ever left his mind--the grief was still crushing--but this was a detail he hadn't thought of since he'd returned to this, the 'real' reality... but he wished he could have the old one back, or at least, before the last bit...

So, he wondered, why was Cho my girlfriend? Or, more properly, why wasn't Ginny my girlfriend? Kingsley said the thing would do what might really happen. But Cho isn't exactly my true love; I'd barely thought about her for two years, and that date I had with her in that reality wasn't great. Well, the talking wasn't, anyway. We didn't seem to click. Did the device that made that reality know that I felt weird about Ginny, and give me the only other option? Good thing it wasn't Hermione, then I would've felt guilty about Ron... funny how Mum hoped I'd be with Hermione...

He winced as he realized both that she was dead, and that it hadn't really been Lily Potter. But he knew that in a way, it had been. That would have more or less been his reality if his parents hadn't died. He felt another terrible pang of grief, both for the fact that he would never see them again, and for the fact that he'd been denied such a chance in the 'real' reality. Not having his parents had always felt bad, but now that he'd experienced exactly what he could have had, it felt that much worse.

He tried to banish such thoughts, but they wouldn't go away. His parents had died, and the fact that they hadn't technically been alive didn't make a bit of difference. He'd had breakfast with them less than a day ago, his mother had kissed him on the cheek... Stop it, dammit. He fought back tears as he tried to think of something else. He tried picking up one of the Muggle magazines at his seat, but in less than a few minutes his mind was away from the magazine.

Auror Leader... why have I never heard of that? Hermione probably has... Kingsley said the position has all kinds of power, but what job makes you watch your family die before you can have it? I mean, that's pretty twisted and cruel. I'm not sure I want a job that that's a requirement of, no matter what about it might be good.

He tried to remember details of the experience; he could remember everything that happened, but he had trouble recalling details of that life that he had remembered while there, but hadn't actually lived through. Kingsley had asked him to be an Auror at the end of sixth year, but he couldn't remember anything more about it. He decided that the device must create false memories as needed, but not until then.

His stomach gurgled, and he suddenly realized that he hadn't even started on the snacks he'd been given. He opened the pack of mixed nuts and started munching, his thoughts drifting. Sometimes he saw his parents in his mind's eye, sometimes the cave from which he'd sealed their fate. He would realize he was thinking about the cave, try to think of something else, but kept coming back to the cave. He told himself that if he had it to do over again, he'd save his family. He recalled his father's appealing self-deprecating humor, which offset his ego; his obvious pride in his son; his efforts to be a better person despite his own limitations. He recalled his mother's pride in him, more quiet but no less strong than her husband's; her kind and gentle manner, her clearly expressed love. It added to the pain, to think that he could have had that all those years, but fate and Voldemort had consigned him to the hell that was the Dursleys' home. Feeling tears coming again, he turned his head to face the window, and looked out onto the clouds that covered most of England, which he was not sorry to be leaving.

* * * * *

Most of the flight was uneventful. He had a meal--not up to what Hogwarts served, but adequate by most Muggle standards--and gave in to the desire to have a few alcoholic drinks. He told himself it was just for a change, but he knew it was in the hope that it could drown out the thoughts and memories that plagued him. It didn't seem to work, except in that it encouraged his tiredness. Assisted by the ability of the seat to recline to an almost flat position, he dozed off soon after the main cabin lights went off.

The next thing he knew, he was being gently nudged. "Sir?"

He blinked a few times, and looked up to see that the cabin lights were back on, and a kind-faced, middle-aged flight attendant was standing over him. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "but we'll be landing in about an hour, and I would have had to wake you up soon anyway. I wanted to let you know that this is the last chance to have a meal before we land."

Harry started to adjust the seat to a normal sitting position. "How long have I been asleep?"

"About six hours, sir."

Wow, I'm a pretty good sleeper, he thought. Of course, the alcohol didn't hurt. "Okay, thanks. Do you have a--" He cut himself off as she handed him a menu. His eyebrows went up. "Breakfast?"

"We're traveling east, and we passed through night," she explained. "You slept through most of it. We'll be landing at about 10:00 a.m. local time."

"Oh. Okay, I'll have the... vegetable omelet, sausage, and scone. With orange juice. But could you bring some coffee first, please?"

"Of course, sir. I'll be just a moment."

She left, and he found himself surprised at the high level of service on Muggle airplanes before he again recalled that this was first class, and Muggles paid extraordinary sums of money for such treatment. It briefly occurred to him that perhaps he should feel guilty for accepting such services under false pretenses--taking something, even service, without paying for it was tantamount to stealing--but he'd been through so much that he barely gave it a second thought. The last thing he was going to worry about was the ethical implications of taking a seat no one was using anyway.

The coffee arrived in less than a minute, and he drank it quickly, starting to feel more awake. The food came ten minutes later. As he ate, he heard a voice over the speakers. "This is your captain speaking. We'll soon be starting our descent, and we'll be landing at Narita Airport at approximately 10:15 local time, about forty minutes from now. The weather in Tokyo is currently clear and fifteen degrees centigrade, with a high of twenty-three expected later today. We'll be asking all passengers in about ten minutes to remain seated with seat belts fastened. Thank you."

It only then occurred to him that he hadn't thought about where the plane was headed; it was as if for him there were only two places, England and not-England, and he was headed for not-England. What do I even know about Japan, he wondered. Not much. There used to be samurai a long time ago, they lost a war against America, and now they mainly manufactured advanced electronic goods; these were the basic facts he had gleaned from what Muggle television he had watched as a child. He supposed he would learn much more in very short order.

As he finished his food, he wondered what he would do when he landed, something which he also hadn't thought about. Live in the Muggle world, or look for the magical world? How about money? English Galleons might not be good here. Well, I'll worry about that when it comes to that.

As the plane started to descend, he cast a spell on himself that caused anyone who looked in his direction to quickly look somewhere else, as if there must be another more interesting thing to look at. He opened his bottomless bag and took out his Firebolt and his Invisibility Cloak, as well as the translation artifact. Albus was right, he thought, this did come in handy. He put it around his neck, then took out the white wrapping sheet. He put the bag in it, reduced its size, and embedded it into his fingernail as he'd done before. As the light appeared as it had before, he wrapped the Firebolt in the Cloak, leaned it against the wall next to his seat, then thought better of it and held it across his lap as he fastened his seat belt. Don't want to put it somewhere and then forget where it is, he thought. I could always Summon it, of course, but better to be careful.

He looked out the window and saw ocean below, but no clouds, and wondered how high he could fly before air pressure became an issue. He lifted the spell he'd put on himself, and realized that it was one the Aurors had taught him over the last few days. Interesting, he thought, that I can remember that. Of course, I actually lived through it, didn't just remember it as a planted memory. He then remembered that he'd also lived through his parents' deaths. He winced in pain. They weren't really alive, he told himself. They weren't really alive. But they sure felt alive.

As much to distract himself as anything else, he spent the time until landing deciding what to do once on the ground. He impatiently waited as the plane finally landed and taxied to the gate. He resisted the urge to Disapparate right then, but preferred not to leave anyone wondering where he'd gone. Thankfully, first class was the first section to deplane, and he thanked the flight attendants for their help as he followed the other passengers off the plane. Thank God I don't have to go through customs, he thought. He waited until they walked through an area with windows, and as soon as he could see where he was going, he walked away from the others, hid behind a pillar, threw on the Cloak, and Disapparated.

He mounted the Firebolt and flew upwards, until he had a good view of the entire airport and the surrounding area, then flew around to get a sense of where he was in relation to the nearest city. He didn't see anything big enough to be Tokyo, but there was a highway, and judging by the traffic, it had to be leading to the city. Deciding to follow it, he flew on.

From his altitude of about five hundred feet, he saw as he flew a mixture of small towns, forested areas, and very small farms. Squares of green no bigger than a large British house existed between homes; were they rice paddies? Must be pretty inefficient, he thought, to have farms or fields so small. He didn't see any livestock, though. Cars were fairly common, as were parking lots.

Flying at about the same speed as cars traveled on the highway, he saw the green slowly decrease and the number of buildings increase; parking areas became less common. Must be getting close to the city, he thought. He also began to see 15-20-story apartment buildings not far from train stations. Wow, he thought, things must be pretty cramped here. He vaguely recalled seeing on Muggle television that Japan was a country of many people but little usable land.

Not a very nice-looking country, though, he mused as he flew over what was a good-sized city. He'd flown over factories, cargo loading areas, and other buildings unappealing to the eye, with none of the natural beauty of England's countryside. The only thing he'd seen that was remotely nice-looking was an attractively designed amusement park.

He saw several skyscrapers in the distance, and headed in that direction. Much as London was where one could find Diagon Alley, he imagined that Japan's main wizarding area was not far from Tokyo, which that had to be, as that was the only group of skyscrapers that could be seen. Also, landing in a small town led to greater chances that he'd be noticed, but he figured that he'd be less conspicuous in a big city, where there had to be quite a few non-Asians.

He increased his altitude, as he'd been flying at about the height of the tallest of the buildings. He was now over an obviously highly concentrated part of the city; there were a few parks, but not large ones, and a seemingly random mixture of office buildings and apartments. There were small areas with high concentrations of buildings, which he realized were train stations. He flew over a large station with over a dozen tracks leading in and out; he wondered if this was Tokyo's equivalent of King's Cross.

A few minutes later he reached the skyscrapers; even they, while not unattractive, didn't do much for the city's skyline. Just beyond the skyscrapers was a medium-sized park. Okay, that'll be fine, he thought. Realizing that the Cloak might not completely cover him from someone looking up as he descended, he decided to land on the top of one of the skyscrapers and Apparate to the ground. He found the closest one that overlooked the park, made sure no one else was on the roof, and landed.

Looking out over the park, he saw a... he wasn't sure what, but it looked like a small flash of light, coming from an area under several trees. He had no idea what it was, but some intuition told him that it represented magic being used. He thought he should check it out, as it might lead him to wizards. He Apparated about twenty meters away, hopefully enough so that the Apparition sound couldn't be heard, at least not by any possible wizards. He wanted to observe the situation before doing anything.

Evidently not having been heard, he put away his broom and walked over to where he still saw flashes of... it wasn't light now; it looked more like energy, and it was coming from the wands of two men wearing what appeared to be ordinary Muggle clothes, and it was directed toward another man on the ground. Strange, he thought. What kind of spell are they doing, that has a visual effect for so long?

Quietly walking closer, he saw that while it appeared that the man on the ground was sleeping, his eyes were open, and he was obviously in pain or severe discomfort. The eyes of the men with wands out were filled with the kind of sinister enjoyment Harry had seen in the eyes of Death Eaters more than once. Having seen enough, he pointed his wand through the Invisibility Cloak, and fired a Full-Body Bind; the man obligingly stiffened, arms at his sides, and toppled over. Startled, his companion looked around, pointing his wand at nothing in particular, before a second later succumbing to the same fate. Harry was further surprised by the fact that he could see his own spells, even though he was sure he'd done them at an insufficiently high intensity for them to be visible.

Looking more closely at the figure on the ground, Harry saw that he was surrounded by a light, almost invisible energy field, as now were his tormentors. Harry took off the Cloak, and saw the eyes of the man on the ground go wide; he realized that the man was young, maybe not too much older than Harry himself, while his apparent tormentors seemed to be in their thirties. Harry did a general counter-curse that he'd learned from the Aurors, and it was effective. The young man slowly moved his arms, obviously having been frozen in place, though not in the same position as was always the case with the Full-Body Bind. He looked up at Harry in confusion; Harry felt he could understand why. "You okay?" he asked.

The man nodded slowly. "Sank you. Foo ah you?"

Harry extended a hand; the man took it, and Harry pulled him up. He couldn't understand why the necklace hadn't translated the man's question, then he suddenly realized it was because the man had spoken English, just with odd pronunciation. "My name is Harry. How about you?"

"I am... Hirokazu," the man said slowly. "Call me Kaz." He was a half a head shorter than Harry, with short black hair, thick eyebrows, and eyes that looked more Caucasian than Japanese, which he knew sometimes seemed quite narrow to Western eyes.

"Kaz," repeated Harry, trying to make the same sound, more like 'Kahz,' with the long 'ah' sound, which was a little unfamiliar to him.

Kaz looked at the men. "Interesting spell," he said, now speaking in Japanese; Harry heard the Japanese, but also heard the English translation in his head, more loudly. "Like the Freezing spell, but different. But, this is a little conspicuous, so..." Obviously having thought he was talking only to himself, he took out his wand and moved the frozen figures--one of whom was lying face down--over to the nearest tree, where it looked more like they were sleeping, albeit very stiffly. He turned back to face Harry. "Why are you here?"

"Just... visiting," responded Harry, realizing this wouldn't be the first time he had to answer such a question. "I finished Hog--Hogwarts, our magical school--I'm from England--and I wanted to travel around," he improvised, recalling that this was what Dumbledore had intended to do after his own graduation.

Kaz nodded. "We had better go away," he said, motioning to the men on the ground. "We should not to be here when the spell..." Harry now heard in Japanese 'nan to iu ka na,' but the voice in English said, 'how do you say.'

"Wears off?" Harry suggested.

Obviously surprised, Kaz asked in Japanese, "You can understand my Japanese?"

"I have a translation artifact," Harry explained.

"Ah. I didn't understand the last two words, but your device gave it to me in Japanese. Clever device," Kaz said in Japanese. Switching to English, he asked, "Do you mind if I speak in English? I have no chance to practice."

Harry shrugged lightly. "Sure." Looking at the two men, he saw again a light energy field around them. He was about to speak when Kaz did. "We should leave."

"Okay, but... what's that around them?"

Kaz frowned. "What you mean?"

"There's an energy field that's surrounding them," Harry said, pointing. "All around their bodies, like an inch away. Can't you see it?"

"No." Kaz peered closer, and shook his head. "I can't see anything."

"Strange," said Harry, but decided not to pursue it further. "Okay, you lead the way."

They walked toward the nearest large group of Muggles. "Even if the spell... wears off, they will not bother us here," said Kaz. "They do not make magic near... how do you say... not-magic-people."

"Muggles," Harry supplied.

Again, Kaz was surprised. "That is not the word. I was in America for a year. They have different word, but I cannot remember."

"There are some differences between English English and American English," explained Harry, recalling the use of strange words on American television shows. Funny, he thought, how almost everything I know about foreign countries, I know from Muggle television. It may be stupid a lot of the time, but at least you learn from it.

"Oh, I heard that. I will use your word. Mug-gles," he repeated slowly. "They will not bother us near Muggles."

"Why were they doing that to you, anyway?"

Harry caught the look of embarrassment on Kaz's face, and wished he hadn't asked. "It... takes long time to explain," said Kaz, looking straight ahead. "But I thank you for help."

Harry nodded. "No problem," he said, resolving not to ask again.

"How did you see?"

Harry paused a second before realizing Kaz's meaning. "I saw the energy from their wands," he explained. "I could see it from a distance. I guess the spell they were using is usually visible."

"No," said Kaz emphatically. "I cannot see that spell; I think no one can. I am surprised you can."

"Hmmm. Strange."

"How long you stay here?"

"I don't know yet. I haven't decided."

"No, I mean... how long you stay here... before now."

"Oh, how long have I been here--"

"Been here, yes," repeated Kaz, annoyed with himself. "I forgot English so much. How long have you been here?" Kaz seemed to be repeating the phrase for his own practice, so he would remember.

"I just got here today."

"Where do you stay?"

"I don't know yet. I have to find out about things like that. You're the first wizard I've talked to in Japan."

Kaz's eyebrows went high. "Didn't you come here by gaimusho?" Harry heard 'foreign ministry' in English, but that didn't make sense either. How could 'foreign ministry' be a mode of transportation?

Deciding to answer rather than seek clarification--he was beginning to wonder if communication would be a problem even with the artifact--he said, "No, I came here by plane."

Kaz's mouth hung open. "You came by plane? Wow, you really wanted the Muggle experience," he said in Japanese. In English, he added, "The... magic politics does not know you are here?"

"Magical government," Harry guessed in clarification. "No, I guess they don't."

Kaz chuckled. "I don't know what they do, but they will not be happy. They like to control everything. So..." Switching to Japanese, he said, "Sorry, English is too slow. You mean, you just got on a plane and flew over here, without contacting the government at all?"

"Nope," said Harry, not caring all that much. I wasn't in any condition to stand in line and do paperwork, he thought.

"Well, you probably should tell them at some point," suggested Kaz. "They're going to want to know."

"Why should they care?" wondered Harry. "I just wanted to visit, is all."

"They care about everything," said Kaz as they reached a large street and started walking in the direction of the skyscrapers. "Another Japanese wizard would just say, 'that's the way it is,' and that would be right. But since I was in America, I can see the difference. If you went to America like you came here, it would be no problem. They don't care who visits as long as you don't break the law. But here, the government is... I told Americans about what our government does, and one of them said it's a..." In English, he continued, "control freak." In Japanese, "If one person isn't doing what he should, they like to get involved. Not directly; they do it through the hierarchy."

"What hierarchy?" asked Harry.

"It's difficult to explain, to someone who isn't from here," said Kaz. "It was hard to explain to Americans. There are about eighty thousand wizards in Japan. There are eight regions, and each region has nine or ten sub-regions. So, each sub-region has about a thousand people. Each sub-region has a leadership council; they're supposed to be familiar with every one of those people. Basically, they are, but they're especially familiar with the patriarch or matriarch of each extended family. That person could be responsible for anywhere between twenty and a hundred people."

Wow, thought Harry. Smiling so Kaz would know it was a joke, he said, "Sorry, could you say that again, please?"

Kaz smiled in return. "Yes, that was the Americans' reaction too. So, if someone did something wrong, like a teenager at school, the school reports it to the patriarch. He goes to the leadership council, and apologizes for what the teenager did. Then he goes to the teenager's parents, tells them about it, and basically lets them know that they should be ashamed of themselves for raising such a disobedient and disrespectful son. They bow and scrape and apologize many times, then go to their child. They tell him how he's brought disgrace to their family, and can only make up for it by being a good and obedient child, and continue doing so until approximately the end of time."

From Kaz's tone and face, Harry gathered that this had happened to him, that he had once been that teenager. "So, you're saying that... they keep close tabs on everyone."

"I'd never thought about it until I went to America. That was just the way things were. But I learned quite a lot there, including that they have nothing like that there. Once you're an adult, you're basically free. But here, even if you're thirty-five, if you do something strange, or that looks bad, your parents or patriarch will sit you down and let you know that you're doing something wrong, and don't you want to be a good citizen? Of course, you do, you say. You apologize, and make sure that whatever it was you did, you don't do again. But you, in Western countries..."

"Can hop on a plane if we feel like it," Harry joked.

"Yes, exactly," agreed Kaz. "How old are you?"

"I'll be eighteen next month," said Harry. He suddenly recalled that in the test, he'd been told it was his birthday. He'd thought it was, but it wasn't. He realized that the test had made him believe it was--probably it was that way for everyone who took the test--so there would be a plausible reason for his family and friends to all be together. He tried to squelch the sudden, extremely unpleasant memory. "How about you?"

"Twenty-one," answered Kaz, looking at Harry.

Harry couldn't hide his surprise. "Really? You look younger. No offense."

"Everyone in America said the same thing. They always said I looked fifteen or sixteen, even though I was eighteen. Is your age of adulthood eighteen?"

"Seventeen."

"So, you're an adult. I suppose England doesn't care if you get on a plane and fly away. But if a twenty-year-old Japanese did that... well, I can only imagine. It would be a crisis, something the whole sub-region would know about. The person would have to spend days apologizing when he got back."

Harry was surprised at how often the word kept coming up. "It sounds like a lot of apologizing goes on here." They turned onto a large street, and were now regularly passing Muggle pedestrians. Harry saw another Westerner, but almost everyone was Japanese.

Kaz nodded, with a small grin. "I really annoyed my American friends, when I first went over there. I was constantly apologizing. They started calling me 'the apologist,' even though the meaning is a little different. They slowly broke me of the habit of apologizing all the time, for things like not agreeing with everything they thought, or not understanding what they said, or a hundred other things. So, can you guess what happened when I got back to Japan?"

"I have no idea."

"Within a week, I was being criticized by my friends and family--"

"Because you weren't apologizing enough," Harry guessed.

"Yes," said Kaz in English. Harry had a feeling there was more to the story, but Kaz had fallen silent. Harry decided he would be very careful not to ask the kinds of questions that he himself wouldn't want to answer.

"Is the Muggle world like that? Things are the same way?"

"No. It used to be--at least, somewhat--but things changed for them. We learned about it in our Muggle Studies class. The first change was a hundred and fifty years ago, when foreign Muggles, more advanced technologically, came to Japan. The second was fifty years ago, when Japan was defeated in a war, by America. Do you know about that?"

"Vaguely," said Harry. "I didn't take Muggle Studies. But I grew up, until age eleven, in the Muggle world. So I heard about it, a little."

"Anyway, so those things caused the Muggles to change their culture. Their families became less connected, young people were more free to go their own way. Young adults could decide who to marry, or even not to get married, like that. They didn't need their family's permission. They lived more in big cities, away from their extended family. Japanese wizards learn about this in Muggle Studies as kind of a warning."

"Like, we have to make sure this doesn't happen to us?" guessed Harry.

"Exactly. They say, this is what happens if you forget about your responsibility to other people, to society. Japanese wizards have a phrase about the... chains of society. How did that word translate?"

"Chains?" asked Harry.

"Yes. It could be 'chains' or 'links,' he said, saying the words in English. "Really, the word translates more as 'chains,' but Japanese wizards would probably prefer 'links,' because it has the feeling of connection. So does 'chains,' but 'chains' has the other meaning of keeping someone prisoner, like, in chains. I once made some wisecrack about being 'strangled by the chains of society.' You know what happened after that?"

"A lot of apologizing?"

"You're catching on," affirmed Kaz. They walked on for a minute in silence.

"What goes on in those buildings?" asked Harry, gesturing to the skyscrapers.

Looking surprised to be asked, Kaz shrugged. "I don't know. Usual Muggle things, I suppose. Mostly business offices. A few hotels. Why?"

"I don't know. This is Tokyo, right? I guess... it looks like any other city. I thought it would look more... exotic, maybe."

"Like there should be fancy lanterns, and everyone should be wearing kimonos?" asked Kaz wryly.

"Something like that," admitted Harry.

"Well, the magical world is a little more like that. Before I told you about the 'chains of society' thing, I was going to say that the wizarding world is still pretty much like the Muggle world was then. I don't mean exactly, of course. There are differences. But yes, a lot of the Americans thought the same thing."

They walked around for another hour, Kaz showing Harry around the Muggle downtown area, talking about what Muggles' lives were like, but not saying much about how wizards lived. Harry wanted to ask why Kaz spent time in Muggle areas, and why he was in that park, but didn't.

Kaz suggested lunch, and they ate at a ramen restaurant. Guess I'm going to be trying lots of unfamiliar foods, thought Harry. The ramen's not bad, like a kind of salty noodle soup.

Kaz offered to help Harry change Galleons into Japanese Muggle currency, but couldn't help with Japanese wizard money. Harry almost asked why, but again restrained himself.

They talked for a while about England, both Muggle and wizard, and Kaz talked about his experiences in America. He had generally had a good time, although it had taken him half a year to acclimate himself to the very different culture and lifestyle.

Around mid-afternoon, Kaz asked, "So, you have no idea what you're going to do, or where you're going to stay?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really." He thought Kaz had already asked the question, but he answered it anyway, to be polite.

"If you like, you can stay at my place for a day or so, until you figure it out," offered Kaz.

Harry was very surprised, but now understood why Kaz had asked a second time. "Sure, thanks," he said. "But are you going to have enough room?"

Kaz grinned. "Japan is a small country, so one thing Japanese wizards know how to do is increase the apparent space of a room. Anyway, it's no problem. You can teach me some British spells."

"Sure. You learned some in America, right?"

"Oh, yeah. And I tried to teach them to people here, but nobody seemed to want to learn them. It was as if being from America made them somehow suspect. Of course, that's not surprising for Japanese people."

"Do most Japanese think their spells are better than American spells, or any other country's spells?" asked Harry.

Kaz thought for a minute before answering. "Not exactly. Japanese think their spells are more... Japanese than other countries' spells."

Taken aback, Harry frowned. "Well, obviously. But what does it mean to say that?"

"That's something that Japanese wizards are afraid even young Japanese will start asking, or, not knowing the answer to. But first, let's go this way. My apartment's over in that direction. It should take about a half hour to walk."

"Don't you just usually Apparate there?" asked Harry.

"Yes. But you're with me, so we have to walk. It's no problem, I don't mind getting the exercise."

"I know, but couldn't you just take me there by Side-Along Apparition?"

"Oh, no. That's illegal here."

"Why?"

"I never thought of that. I don't know, it just is."

"But they'd never catch you, right?"

"You're a lot like the Americans," said Kaz. "They'd break the rules, or even the law, for no good reason, just because they felt like it. For most Japanese, it's pretty much unthinkable to break the rules, even for a good reason."

"I wasn't saying you should do it," said Harry, slightly abashed. "Just that they wouldn't catch you."

"No," agreed Kaz, "but there's a better chance--at least, they say--of getting splinched if you do that. They know if you get splinched, and they come quickly to help you. But if you got splinched doing that, well, you can guess what would happen."

"Apologizing," Harry guessed with a small grin.

"Lots of apologizing, lots of lectures, and so forth," agreed Kaz. He gestured, showing Harry which way to go.

"Is there any kind of punishment in this country that doesn't just involve apologizing?"

"Yes," answered Kaz. "But apologizing is more usual. Your culture doesn't mind using force, making someone do something. Japanese culture doesn't like that. You're supposed to do something on your own, to recognize it as the right thing to do. To make someone do something by force would be to admit that persuasion has failed, and suggest that your leadership is lacking. It also seems to be giving up on any hope of the other person realizing that they did something wrong, and being a good citizen. So, that's only a last resort."

"Wow," said Harry. "Very strange. I never would have thought about anything like this."

"No, me neither. That's the good thing about going overseas."

Kaz told a few more stories about his time in America, and soon they were in front of a very narrow eight-story building. "This is it. There's an elevator, but it doesn't stop on the fourth floor, which is where I live. We can walk up the fire escape, and next time, you'll be able to just Apparate up." They started up the steps.

"Why doesn't the elevator stop at the fourth floor?"

"Because Muggles think this building doesn't have a fourth floor. A spell I did on the building makes everyone forget that there's a fourth floor."

"Don't they think it's strange that the building doesn't have a fourth floor?"

Kaz grinned over his shoulder. "You'd think so, but no. In your country, yes. But in Japan... 'four' is considered an unlucky number, because one of the ways to say it is 'shi,' which also means 'death.' For example, if you're giving someone a gift, you never give them four of something. Three or five, okay, but not four." They paused in front of the apartment's back door. "Now, most buildings do have a fourth floor. But because four is unlucky, nobody thinks it's strange that this one doesn't."

"Interesting," said Harry. It occurred to him that Kaz was committing a form of theft by not paying rent; the owner was being denied rent on a building he paid to have constructed. But Harry said nothing, because Kaz had been friendly and hospitable, and because he himself had done something not too different very recently.

Kaz opened the door. "Tadaima!" he shouted; Harry heard it as, "I'm home!"

"Okaeri!" shouted a female voice from inside; strangely, Harry's artifact didn't render this at all. Noting that Kaz took his shoes off, Harry quickly did the same. "I have a guest!" Kaz said loudly.

A slim, pretty young woman approached them, smiling politely. To the woman, Kaz said, "This is Harry, he helped me out in the park earlier." Harry saw a look of concern flash across the woman's face. "Harry, this is my girlfriend, Chieko."

Harry hesitated, unsure of whether to offer his hand; she bowed, so he awkwardly attempted to do the same. "Nice to meet you," she said.

"You too," he replied, and they walked into the living room, which was surprisingly large. He sat in a chair, while they took the sofa. "Where are you from?" she asked, and Harry gave much of the basic information about himself that he'd already given Kaz.

"Why did you come to Japan?" she asked.

Harry had answered the same question from Kaz already, but had spent a long time talking to him, and felt that he could give more information. "I'm... mourning the loss of my parents. I wanted to get away from things."

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said quickly, clearly embarrassed at having asked a question that elicited such a response.

"I think what she meant," put in Kaz, "was, why did you choose to come to Japan, not another country."

"Oh," said Harry, now a little embarrassed himself. He explained what he had done at Heathrow. Chieko's eyes widened; Kaz chuckled softly. "That seems like a very Western thing to do," he said. "We couldn't imagine doing something like that, even in that situation. But I'm sorry about your parents. Would it be okay if I ask how they died?"

Harry nodded. "Dark wizards."

"Do you have many of them in England?" asked Kaz.

"They were controlling the government for a while. But their leader was recently killed, and we got our government back. There are still some around, but it's not as bad as it was. How about here?"

Chieko looked at Kaz, who answered. "Not many, but there are a few. Not so dangerous; they don't kill people. The ones you saw in the park... they aren't Dark wizards, but they may be in the future. It's usually ronin who become Dark wizards."

Harry frowned. "I've heard that word before, I think."

"Some foreigners know it," agreed Kaz. "In historical times, both for Muggles and for wizards, it meant a samurai who had no master. Now, for wizards, it means a wizard who's been made an outcast by wizarding society. They can't go into the wizarding areas of Japan, join any wizarding events, live in wizarding homes, or even see their family or visit their ancestors' graves. They're essentially treated as if they're dead. They're usually people who've done something unforgivable." He gave Harry a significant look. "For which apologizing isn't enough."

"But they're not all bad," said Chieko forcefully. "Sometimes they just did something that most of society really disapproves of, or didn't want to live by society's rules."

Harry nodded and kept his expression neutral, but it finally clicked: Kaz was also one of these ronin, which was why he lived in a Muggle area. He was being tormented in the park, most likely, because Japanese Aurors wouldn't protect an outcast, so bad ronin could attack other ronin without consequences. Chieko, he realized, was probably breaking rules by seeing Kaz. Not everybody followed the rules, apparently; it was just a matter of not getting caught. He wondered what Kaz had done, but knew not to ask. He decided he would trust for now that Kaz had probably done nothing that would be considered a serious crime in England.

He changed the subject, and the conversation didn't return to any topic related to ronin. They talked about smaller things, like what classes Harry took at Hogwarts, what kind of food they served, and whether there were house-elves in Japan (there weren't). They all moved out to the kitchen when Chieko started to make dinner, which was homemade curried rice and salad. As they ate, they talked more about food; Kaz talked more about his impressions of the food in America.

Harry started to get tired--he wondered if he hadn't completely caught up on his sleep from the goblin experience, which had technically happened only two days ago--and asked if they minded if he went to bed.

"Of course," said Kaz. "Would you like to take a shower or bath first? I don't know about England; most Americans take showers, and most Japanese take baths." Chieko left the room to set up the bath.

Harry explained that he usually took showers, but a bath sounded good too. Kaz explained that in Japan, one sat on a small wooden stool with a hand-held shower nozzle to clean one's body, then once clean, sat in the bath, and the same water could be used by everyone in the home, as it didn't get dirty.

Harry's puzzlement was apparent. "I thought the whole idea of a bath was to get clean. What's the point of taking a bath if you're already clean?"

"For you, the point of a bath is to get clean," said Kaz. "For Japanese, the point is to relax in nice, hot water, especially at the end of the day. People here almost never take baths in the morning. If they clean themselves in the morning, it's a shower."

Harry could hear the water running from the shower area, which he had already learned was separated from the toilet, unlike in most Muggle households, in which the toilet and bath/shower were in the same room. The Japanese way struck him as being very sensible, given the number of times at Privet Drive when he'd had to use the toilet but couldn't because someone was taking a shower. It sounded like the bathtub was filling up. "Okay, I'll try the bath," he said. It occurred to him that he hadn't had a real bath or shower since before he was kidnapped, though he imagined that Kingsley had done a basic cleaning spell on him when he was rescued, and he had done one on himself on the plane. Still, it was only a stopgap measure, so a good shower and bath was probably a good idea. Chieko showed him how to use the stool and how to make the bath water warmer or cooler, and left him alone.

Harry took off his clothes, intending to rinse them and put a drying spell on them so he didn't have to hang them up. He took his glasses off, and to his surprise, found that his sight was no different. Perplexed, he picked a spot on the wall farthest away from him in the room, and compared with glasses on or off: it was the same. How did that happen, he wondered.

But an even greater surprise awaited. As he finished taking his clothes off, but before using the water, he found that even with the door closed, he could hear Kaz and Chieko talking in the living room, or maybe it was the kitchen. He picked up their conversation in mid-sentence.

"...he seems like a nice person."

"Yeah, I think he is," said Kaz. "He helped me out, and he didn't have to. You know that most Japanese would look the other way, thinking that it didn't involve them."

"Well, that's because you're ronin. It depends on the situation--"

"I mean, if a Japanese were in another country--"

"Well, obviously," she agreed. "You mean, like he's in another country, for him."

"Exactly. This was one of the things I liked about Americans. They just do what they think is right, most of them anyway, they don't think about how it's going to look or what trouble they might get into. That's why I respect him. I've told you that I had a similar situation when I was in America, and I--"

"You can't hold that against yourself," she countered; Harry could hear frustration in her voice. "Any of us would have done the same thing. It's just your culture. They should have understood that."

"They didn't," said Kaz ruefully. "They thought I was a big coward."

"They didn't actually say that, did they?"

"No. But the things they did say, the tone, the faces... it couldn't have been clearer."

"Hiro-kun, you're not a coward."

"How do you know? How can I know? Except for that time, I never had a chance to prove it one way or another. But there's one thing I can tell about Harry: he isn't any kind of coward."

Harry turned the water on, and the sound of the water coming from the shower head obscured their voices. But he knew he shouldn't have been able to hear them at all. He thought about it more carefully as he soaped himself up.

Let's see, he thought, what's different about me since yesterday... I can suddenly see better, and unless these walls are no thicker than paper, I can hear better... and maybe it's just Japan, but I can see the energy of any spells being done, which I could never do before...

A chill went down his spine as the answer suddenly hit him. Auror Leader, he thought. The device must change you if you pass their test. It must enhance your senses, or give you better... whatever. What else? Sight, hearing... those would be useful for an Auror, what else... power? It's hard to say, right now... Dudley! He was lying, and I knew it, but I didn't know how I knew. This must give the Auror Leader Legilimency, or the equivalent, the ability to know if someone is lying... that would definitely be a useful skill for an Auror.

Damn Kingsley for putting me in that thing. How could he do that? I don't want to be modified, I just want to be who I am. Least he could have done is ask me. I thought he was my friend, but I guess I should have known better. He's a politician now, and he'll do what he wants to do, it doesn't matter who it affects, or how it affects them...

Similar thoughts occupied him as he finished washing himself and shampooing. He put a foot into the tub, then yanked it out. Jesus Christ, this thing is hot, he thought. Screw it, I'll just go all the way in, my body'll get used to it. He was acutely uncomfortable for a few seconds, after which the discomfort subsided, faster than he would have thought. The tub was a peculiar shape; English tubs were long and relatively shallow, but this tub was almost cube-shaped, about three feet in each direction. One had to keep one's knees bent, but it was fairly comfortable.

It was quiet again, but he heard no conversation coming from the other room. He tried to focus on the relaxing heat; after a few minutes, he found he could see the appeal.

He stayed in for about fifteen minutes, deciding to get out after his eyes started to close involuntarily. Don't want to fall asleep in here, he thought. He got out, dried off, and put on new clothes from his bag, annoyed with himself for not having brought sleepwear. He went out to say good night, and found that Chieko had gone. Kaz explained that she didn't live there, but sometimes spent time there. Harry thanked Kaz for his help, and went to bed. He was asleep very quickly.

* * * * *

Harry was mildly chagrined to learn the next morning from Kaz that he'd slept for almost twelve hours, but he knew he'd needed it. For breakfast, Kaz offered Harry a choice of cornflakes, or rice and something called miso soup. Harry chose the latter, finding the rice sticky but good-tasting, and the soup salty but palatable. Kaz offered to take Harry to a Muggle business where one could exchange gold for Muggle money; Harry gratefully accepted. Kaz tried to stick to English, keeping the conversation simple.

As they walked, Harry asked Kaz what, aside from the apologizing, were the big differences between Japan and America. "Almost night and day," mused Kaz in Japanese as he thought about it. "I guess a big thing is that Americans have fairly loose relationships with their families, and once you're an adult, you can do anything you want. But I think I mentioned that yesterday. Let's see... oh, yes, Americans are always telling you what they think of something. If some topic gets brought up, they'll just come out and say whatever they think."

Harry nodded. "Well, why wouldn't they?"

"I suppose that the English are, maybe not the same as Americans, but much closer to them than to Japanese. Again, it's difficult to explain, but giving an opinion is sometimes... presumptuous. It has a lot to do with the hierarchy. Let's say I'm older than you."

"You are," Harry pointed out.

Kaz grinned momentarily. "Let's say we're both Japanese, and I'm older than you. There's a book, a fiction book that we've both read. You happen to say that you thought it was terrible. In your culture, that's no problem, right?" Harry shook his head. "Well, here, that would be a big faux pas. I'm older than you, so you shouldn't say what you think until I have, or until I asked you. Now, if I want to give you my opinion, I can; from me to you, it's like guidance, because I'm older. My opinions have more weight--"

"Even if you're only three years older than me?"

"Yes. And interrupting someone older than you is very rude."

Harry looked down, as if chastened. "Sorry."

Kaz looked at him quizzically. "You're joking, right?" Grinning, Harry nodded. "I was constantly falling for that in America," recalled Kaz ruefully. "Half of what friends said to me were jokes, and I never got it. I was just starting to at the end, before I came back here.

"Anyway... oh, and just for your information, just 'sorry' isn't enough. If you were rude to someone older, you say 'I'm sorry' at the very least, but 'I'm very sorry' is better."

"How about 'I deeply and sincerely apologize?'" joked Harry.

"A little too much for this situation, but it couldn't hurt," responded Kaz. "And I know you were joking, but it's less a joke than you think. Anyway, the book... now, if we're the same age, it depends on our relationship. If we're good friends, it's okay. If we're acquaintances, or don't know each other that well, you can only hint at your opinion, say something very mild until you know what the other person thinks. If they hint the opposite, you drop the subject. If they seem to agree with you, then you can say your opinion more strongly."

Harry shook his head. "Bizarre."

"It's all about avoiding conflict," said Kaz. "A disagreement about anything, even so unimportant as opinions about a book, could become an argument, and that must be avoided. Japanese will go to great lengths to avoid an argument. Not talking about it is considered far preferable."

Harry recalled times when he'd been angry at Ron or Hermione but said nothing. "Well, we do that a little, especially for serious things. It depends on the person. But it's certainly okay to say what you think about a book. Is that why there are so many rules about what you can and can't do, to avoid arguments?"

"I'm not sure. At some point, it always gets back to 'that's just the way things are.' It's hard to say how a culture got a certain way. I guess you can say that the rules are the way they are because the culture is the way it is."

"How do you feel about the culture being the way it is?"

Kaz shrugged. "Before I went to America, I just accepted it without thinking. It never occurred to me that another thing was possible. But seeing another culture allows you to understand not only that one, but also your own. Once I got used to American culture, it was more appealing to me. The freedom was great. You can do what you want, say what you want, without having to explain yourself to anyone who decides it's their business what you do. Life in America, or I guess most Western countries, is more unpredictable. Life in Japan is safer, nothing unexpected ever happens. But it never occurs to Japanese that their way of life is kind of constricting. There's a way you're supposed to act, and that's that."

Very interesting, thought Harry. "What are the good things about the Japanese way, other than that it's safe?"

Kaz grunted. "I may not be the best person to ask. I'm not a huge fan of the Japanese way of doing things. Those who are will say it's comfortable, it feels good to be a group member in good standing. They'll talk about tradition, say it's been this way for centuries, as if that's a good reason to continue doing something. They'll say it creates social harmony. Stuff like that."

"But it wasn't good for you," Harry observed.

"Especially not after I came back from America. If you talked to the people who knew me, they'd say I came back changed, acting strange. But I think that they were too ready to think that. I tried to act normal, and I thought I was doing okay, and they seized on the least little thing to suggest I'd changed. I feel like I changed more because of how they treated me than anything else. It suddenly seemed like I wasn't welcome."

"What happened to the social harmony thing? Does it go out the window when someone changes?"

"They accused me of throwing it out the window, by doing things that threatened social harmony. The way they see it, they're defending social harmony, by attacking someone who endangers it. I was the disease, and they were the white blood cells."

Kaz stopped talking; Harry wondered if he felt he was personalizing the situation too much, saying things he didn't want to say. He steered it back to a more general topic. "So, if someone is older than you, you have to treat them as if they're your boss?"

Kaz thought for a few seconds, then nodded. "You would see it like that, yes. I think you don't have the equivalent. But I was told that in America, some schools had something like that, where younger students had to be polite to the older students. Hogwarts wasn't like that?"

"Not really. Most of the time, people just stayed with their own year's students. If there was any mixing, older students didn't expect younger students to be especially polite. But if, in the common room, younger students tried to take a spot that an older student liked, or was really rude, then the older student would act like, get out of here, who do you think you are, like that. And I've heard that it was much more strict, the seniority thing, at Muggle private schools, the exclusive ones. I don't know why Hogwarts is different."

Kaz switched back to English. "Did you have a good fright?"

Harry had begun to realize that Kaz's English was fairly rusty. "A good what?"

"A good fright. Airplane fright."

"Ah. I heard, 'good fright' the first time." Harry knew his necklace artifact would translate it back into Japanese.

Kaz chuckled. "I see. L and R is always a problem."

Harry realized he hadn't answered the question. "Anyway, the flight was okay. It was the first time I'd ever flown, so it was kind of strange. Obviously I've flown a lot on brooms, but this was different. I slept through a lot of it, so it seemed to go pretty fast." He found that he wasn't thrilled to talk about the flight, because it reminded him of what he'd been thinking about and was now trying to get away from, but Kaz couldn't know that. "Did you fly to America?"

"No, I went by the... Foreign Ministry," he finished in Japanese.

"You said that yesterday. What does that mean?"

In Japanese, Kaz said, "At the Foreign Ministry--of every country, I was told--there's a kind of portal. Two countries activate their portal at the same time, and someone can walk through. It feels very strange; it actually takes more than a minute to walk through. It's like you're walking from one place to another which is thousands of miles away, but you do it very quickly. Most of what I saw was ocean; when you're passing over land, everything's a blur. They don't let you go through if you're not in good health, because if you fall down on the way, there's a chance you could end up someplace in the middle. In my case, that would have been the Pacific Ocean. But it was interesting."

"A lot faster than the flight," Harry agreed. While Kaz was talking, Harry had noticed a bright spot on Kaz's head, seemingly in his hair. "What's that thing on your head?"

"What thing?"

"In your hair here, there's a little bit of energy, as if someone did a spell there, and there's a trace of it. Does that make any sense?"

"Not really. I haven't noticed anything in the mirror, but maybe I couldn't see it anyway. I don't seem to be able to see the spells like you can."

"What do you think it could be?"

Comprehension and annoyance spread over Kaz's face. "A tracking spell," he said angrily. "Those ronin harassing me in the park, they'd bothered me before. They must have put that there so they could find me if they wanted to. Can you get rid of it?"

"I think so," said Harry. "But you need to stand absolutely still." Harry moved Kaz's hair a little on the side of his head, found the remnant of the spell, and performed a counter-curse. The energy dissipated. "Okay, I think I got it. I don't see it there anymore."

"Thanks, I appreciate it," said Kaz, as they continued walking. "The place we're going is just up there, another few minutes." There were a few Muggles around, but it wasn't a heavily trafficked area.

"Is it common for people to use tracking spells here? My impression from England was that they're not easy spells to do. Even Aurors can't do one that lasts too long." The memory came from Harry's 'other life,' as he was starting to think of it, but based on what Kingsley had said, he was inclined to think it was accurate.

"Nobody I talked to in America had ever heard of one," said Kaz. "Here, they're fairly common. Most parents, I think, routinely use them on their children. Some people say that they think patriarchs use them on some people, adults, in their extended families without their consent."

"That wouldn't be illegal?" wondered Harry.

Kaz shrugged. "Patriarchs can do pretty much anything they want, I think. The laws are selectively enforced, and they get a wide latitude."

"Yeah, but they're old. What if they start losing it, and do some weird stuff?"

Kaz chuckled. "I once said something like that to my parents, and... there was much apologizing," he said, switching to English at the end. "Even speaking generally, you just can't say something like that. Even if it's true, that's not the point. But the most that would happen--"

Harry heard several pops of Apparition; to his surprise, they were suddenly surrounded by five men, aged from thirty to fifty. He reflexively reached for his wand, and backed slightly toward the nearest building, trying to keep all five in front of him.

Spells started to come at him. It was the first time since the Auror Leader trial that hostile spells had been shot at him, and it felt strange to be able to see them coming. They moved fast, but not overly fast. Moving aside quickly, he dodged three, while blocking one with his own spell. To his great surprise, Kaz instantly Disapparated. He didn't linger on the thought, as he still had to deal with the five men. He Disarmed one; the man's wand went flying, and the man went off to chase it. Harry realized that with five against one, Disarming wasn't going to be enough. After dodging and blocking the next round of spells--it was extremely helpful to be able to see them--he fired a Stunner at one of the attackers, who went down. He quickly sent off another Stunner, putting another attacker on the ground. The one he had Disarmed had recovered his wand and was running back to join the fight when there were four more Apparitions, all almost in the same instant. The men wore black robes with silver trim. Aurors, thought Harry. Have to be. He knew the confrontation was over, and made a decision to cooperate with them, except that he wouldn't give up the Elder Wand if they asked for it.

The Aurors whirled their wands in unison, and Harry saw four jets of light meet in one place, whirl around each other, and form a circle of energy around him and his attackers. One of them pointed a wand at the Aurors, and was immediately Stunned. Impressive spell, thought Harry. I'd love to learn that. He put his wand into his robes and involuntarily checked the fingernail of his left index finger; it was still bright, so his bag with all his supplies was secure.

"Wands down!" shouted one of the Aurors, who Harry assumed was the senior one, as he appeared older than the others. To his surprise, they made no move to take any wands. An Auror approached him, glanced at him with surprise, and grasped his left arm. Harry didn't resist as he was Disapparated away.

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 14, The Honored Ancestor: Struggling to put aside his grief and adapt to an unfamiliar culture, Harry has an unpleasant encounter with a ghost, an ancestor of his host family.

From Chapter 14: "Harry, you did the right thing."

"It doesn't feel like it."

"I know, that's the point. It's horrible, and Kingsley is scum for not getting your permission... but everyone knows that's the thing to do. That's not the question; the question is whether you can do it. All I can say is... Ron and Hermione know that they were in... that last scene. They both said they thought you did the right thing. And they were both proud that they were important enough to you to be there."