Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link

Chapter 14

The Honored Ancestor

The Japanese Auror Apparated Harry into a small, sparsely furnished room which had in the corner a small stand, on which stood a small flower vase and a few flowers. Odd place to hold detainees, he thought. Glancing at the floor, he saw that it seemed to be made of a finely woven form of straw, or at least, it smelled like something that had once been part of a plant. The room had white walls, and a sliding window with opaque glass.

"Do you understand me?" asked the Auror. Harry nodded. "Sit on the floor, and do not touch your wand. Do not move. Someone will be in to question you." Harry nodded again; the man gave him a last, odd look, and departed through a wooden sliding door.

Interesting, he thought. Why didn't they try to take my wand? Maybe it's not their custom; maybe the bad guys play by certain rules here, and they don't break them. Or maybe they know I'm not a bad guy. Who knows... Well, if they try to take the Elder Wand they're going to regret it, but let's see how it goes. Probably the best thing to do is cooperate, they'll realize I did nothing wrong, and that'll be that. I hope.

Five minutes passed before another man came into the room; it was the senior man who had appeared on the scene. "Stand, please." Harry got up. The man waved his wand; energy flowed towards Harry's forehead, but nothing happened. The man looked at Harry quizzically. After a short pause, he said, "You do not have the mark that shows your permission to be in Japan."

Harry's eyebrows went up. "I don't know anything about that. I wasn't aware that permission was necessary."

The Auror looked a little surprised, then resumed his prior poker face. "Your wand will not be taken so long as you cooperate. If you do not, it will be taken. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"How are you understanding me?"

"Translation artifact."

The Auror reached into his pocket and took out a small white ball, or what looked like a ball. "A person cannot lie when holding this. Do you agree to be questioned while holding it?"

Harry couldn't help but wonder if the question was rhetorical. "Yes, I agree."

The man handed it to Harry, who kept it firmly in his palm. "What is your name?"

"Harry Potter."

Harry thought he saw the Auror register familiarity and surprise, but he wasn't sure. Would news of his defeat of Voldemort have reached this far? Would another country's Aurors care about such a thing?

"Where are you from?"

"England."

"How did you get here?"

"Muggle airplane."

"You did not know you needed permission to come here?"

"Yes, I didn't know."

"Why did you come to Japan?"

"In London, I boarded a Muggle airplane not knowing where it was headed. It happened to be headed to Tokyo."

The Auror now gave Harry a decidedly odd look, as if he wondered whether the device Harry was holding wasn't working properly. After a pause, the Auror continued. "Did you use a spell which deprives the victim of consciousness?"

Odd way to phrase it, thought Harry. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Well, you saw, it was five against one. They attacked me; I was defending myself."

"Why did they attack you?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't have a clue."

The Auror frowned. "Please answer more simply."

Maybe the phrase didn't translate well. "I don't know why they attacked me."

"What did you plan to do in Japan?"

"I had no specific plans. I wanted to be somewhere else, to get away from England."

"Why?"

"I... recently suffered a tragedy, and I could not bear to stay in England. I needed to get away."

"What kind of tragedy?"

Harry decided to be as polite as possible. "A family tragedy. Beyond that, I would request your indulgence; I would strongly prefer not to get into details. It's a very private and difficult matter."

The Auror paused again, seeming to evaluate Harry. Harry didn't keep eye contact, looking up only once in a while. He knew eye contact could be interpreted as defiance.

"Did this tragedy, or any events leading up to it, involve any wrongdoing on your part?"

Harry couldn't help the light chuckle that escaped him. "No."

"What do you find funny?"

"It's not funny, exactly; it's ironic. The events leading up to the tragedy involved my being kidnapped. So, there was wrongdoing, just not by me."

"Do you have any further comment?"

Harry realized that the interview was coming to a close; he decided to use the information he'd gotten from Kaz, and hope it worked all right. "Yes, I'd like to apologize for coming to your country without the proper permission. I was... distraught, and didn't properly consider what I was doing. It was not my intention to break any laws, or do anything wrong." Harry did his best to convey sincerity; it wasn't too difficult, since he was basically speaking the truth. The fact was that he didn't care that he had broken their laws, but they didn't have to know that.

The Auror again gave him another odd look--has this guy even seen a foreigner before? Harry wondered--and finally nodded curtly. "You will stay here indefinitely until a decision is reached regarding your status. In that wall is a closet containing a futon and blankets; next to that is a washroom. Meals will be delivered at regular intervals. Do you promise not to make any unauthorized attempt to leave?"

Harry managed not to grin at the convoluted wording that seemed to try to avoid using the word 'escape.' "Yes, I promise."

Apparently satisfied, the Auror reached for the while ball, which unbeknownst to Harry had taken on the consistency of clay, and spread out in his hand. The Auror moved aside the sliding door, and left. Harry saw a light thread of magic suddenly appear outside the door; no doubt a movement detection spell that would alert them to any attempt he made to break the promise he'd made.

He walked over to a wall and sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. Well, he thought, as prison cells go, this isn't too bad. Beats the hell out of Malfoy Manor. A little stark, but that's a minor quibble.

Well, you wanted to get away from it all, and you've certainly done that. Normally, I'd be trying to figure out how to escape, but right now I don't care. They can keep me here for a month if they want to. Well, except for the lack of reading material, or anything to do. That would be a problem. But there's plenty of time to think.

What about Kaz, just Disapparating away at the first sign of trouble. Could he have set me up somehow? No, he didn't seem like that type. Also, there was that conversation between him and, what's her name, Chieko, about whether he was a coward. Who knows, maybe he is. Some people are. If that's it, he's probably kicking himself now, thinking he should have stayed. Probably frightened the hell out of him, five against two, and he doesn't know that I have any skill with a wand, or that I'm holding the Elder Wand. Maybe he was afraid that those guys from the park would do worse to him. Still, to leave someone else in danger while you get away... I just can't see it. How did those five guys, the ronin, find us? When I got rid of the tracking spell? Guess that makes sense, they just used his last known location. And the Aurors must have magic sensing methods, like they do in England. But why is a Stunning spell bad, but a Full-Body Bind is okay?

This sure is a weird country. Just look at this room. This is where they keep prisoners? Or is this just a kind of detainment area? Even detainment areas in England aren't this nice or clean, I'm sure. And being allowed to keep my wand is really bizarre, not that I'm complaining. Of course, the instant I touch it they can be in here to take it away, but still, in England they'd take it away just on principle. This is one time when having the Elder Wand isn't so good; I feel like I have to protect it. But who knows, it might let me Disapparate out of here, even given what anti-Disapparation safeguards they have in place. Could this thing let one Disapparate out of Hogwarts? Interesting question... how much power above the ordinary does this thing give me? I never bothered to check that out.

So, what happens now... they go to their government, I imagine, or maybe just to their court system. It would be very annoying to have to spend time in jail. The question is, do they contact England or not? If they do, Kingsley'll ask them to let me go, if he knows what's good for him. I can screw him politically, he must know that. Not that I'd want to bother, but he seriously owes me, and I don't know if I can ever forgive him for what he did. Necessary, my ass. You don't do that to a person without asking them, you just don't. I don't care what the reason is. Even if it could save lives, you ask, you tell the person it could save lives. If he asked me and I said no, maybe then those lives are on my shoulders, but at least I made the decision. You don't take that decision away from anyone you have respect for. Come to think of it, what if Kingsley asks them to turn me over to him? He'd better not, I will screw him if he does that. I'll just go somewhere else, after saying my piece in the Prophet. He'd better leave me alone.

Harry's mind turned to another topic, as thinking of Kingsley made him think of his parents, which he didn't want to do. His mind kept coming back to the topic, however, and he sighed internally. Maybe sitting in a bare room with nothing to do isn't such a good thing for me right now, he thought. Kind of tough not to think about that. Strange how I keep thinking about Mum and Dad, not Sirius or Ron or Hermione. With Sirius, he was already gone, and I could get to know him, even though I wish we'd had more time. With Ron and Hermione, they're still alive, so that's different too. I can still talk to them if I want to. But Mum and Dad... that was my one chance. It makes sense that I'd think mainly about that. But I should try not to, I'll just make myself crazy.

Here's an interesting question: if I could do anything in the world right now, what would I do?

Talk to my parents.

Okay, anything that's possible.

Hmmm... I just don't know. Nothing seems that appealing.

Okay, well... I'm in this country, let's say fate sent me here for a reason. Why not just try to learn more about the place, if they don't keep me here forever, or chuck me out of the country. See if they have any interesting spells they'd be willing to teach me, or try to understand this goofy culture of theirs. What have I got to lose, I'm not doing much of anything anyway.

He lay flat on the floor, and thought about Hogwarts, his memories from there. There was no real reason to do so, except that it kept his mind off other things.

* * * * *

An hour later, a meal was brought, a simple affair of grilled fish, rice, and a few vegetables. To his surprise, it was brought by a young woman who bowed and generally behaved very politely. He wondered if they were always this polite to prisoners, or if he wasn't considered an ordinary prisoner. He was also surprised when instead of backing out of the room, she turned in the middle of the room and left, leaving herself open to possible attack if he were so inclined. He wondered if it was a test, to see if he would act violently and try to escape if given a chance. He ate all the food; she came by a half hour later to pick up the tray and dishes, and bowed another few times, but said nothing.

He tried to appreciate the fact that he had nothing to do. The time moved slowly, but there were positive aspects to it. It was a chance to relax, to regroup. To just do nothing. And look at the bright side: as long as they don't come in and tell me what a useless piece of crap I am, it's better than it was being at Privet Drive. Yes, there's a good way to look at it.

Hours passed; there were no windows leading to sunlight, so he had no idea what time it was, or whether it was light or dark. Another meal finally came, very similar to the last one. He thought it was a different kind of fish, but he wasn't sure.

A few hours later, the room's light--it looked like a fairly standard Muggle electric light--blinked on and off three times. He decided to interpret it as a signal that the lights would be going off soon. He took out the futon and bedding supplies from the closet and set them up; he had barely finished when the light went out. A very soft light was still on in the toilet area. I guess, he thought wryly, they don't want me peeing all over the floor because I can't see what I'm doing. It didn't take him long to fall asleep.

* * * * *

He woke up to use the bathroom--again, he had no way of knowing what time it was, or how long he'd slept--and decided to sleep for as long as he wanted. The light'll probably go on again when it's time to wake up, he thought as he dozed off.

The next time he woke up, the light was already on. He very leisurely came to full consciousness, stretching often. Time for another exciting day in Japan, he thought sardonically. Which wall should I stare at? Now, now, it's a lot nicer than I had it with the goblins. At least here, I get to sleep.

Breakfast arrived in a half hour; interestingly, it was rice and miso soup, the same thing he'd had with Kaz yesterday morning. Must be a very standard Japanese breakfast.

After about two hours, the door opened and a kimono-clad young woman entered and bowed; Harry understood that something was happening, as it was a different woman than the one who brought his food. Having decided to try to act as it seemed like a Japanese should, based on what he'd learned from Kaz, he bowed a little in return. Seemingly surprised, she bowed yet again; Harry decided not to return it. Don't want to get caught up in an endless cycle of bowing.

She was holding a short wooden stick with two wood blocks attached to it by thick gold strings from the top. The blocks were about half the size of his palm, and had Japanese characters burned into them, though Harry of course had no idea what they meant. Gesturing to one of them, the woman's Japanese came through Harry's artifact as, "Please grasp the wood." Harry barely managed to stifle a giggle, realizing that the artifact, while doing a good job of translating, couldn't take into consideration amusing double meanings.

He put his hand around the one she'd indicated, and his guess that it was a Portkey was soon proved right. He found himself in another room, this one much nicer, a real Western-style office. There was a large desk, and a comfortable chair behind it. There were what looked like bookshelves, but instead of shelves, there were circular slots, deep enough to hold rolled parchment, or a scroll. The general appearance reminded Harry slightly of a honeycomb. There were two such shelves, one on each side of the room. Artwork was hanging on the walls.

"Please sit down," the woman said, gesturing to one of the chairs opposite the large desk. Harry did; the woman bowed, and left without another word.

Harry looked around the room with mild interest, as he wondered what would happen now. He didn't have to wait for long; there was an Apparition sound, and an older man, appearing to be in his late sixties, suddenly appeared behind the desk. "You are Harry Potter?" he asked, without preliminaries. His manner was slightly brusque, as if he were being bothered with something he would prefer not to be bothered with.

Guess not everyone here is polite, Harry thought. "Yes."

"You really did not know that it was necessary to get another country's permission before traveling to that country?" Even if there had been no translation, the man's 'how stupid can you be' tone would have come through loud and clear.

Harry found his resolve to remain polite weakening. "Yes, that's right," he managed to say, rather than 'I've already answered that question while holding the White Clay Glob of Truth, so is it really necessary to ask again?' as he would have preferred to say.

The man grunted, then added as an afterthought, "I am Shintaro Watanabe, the foreign minister of Japan. Your case has caused us a great deal of consternation."

"I'm very sorry about that," replied Harry, glad that he was not currently holding the white glob. "It wasn't my intention."

Watanabe glanced up at Harry briefly, as if he hadn't expected to hear those words. Slightly less rudely, he continued. "Assuming that you are allowed to stay in Japan, what would you wish to do?"

"To learn," answered Harry. "To understand your people, your culture, your magic, how you live. It seems like a good thing for young wizards to know."

Watanabe eyed him with mild suspicion. "You said you came here by accident."

"Yes, but now that I'm here, it seems like a good idea. Sometimes when you do something spontaneously, you don't know why it's a good idea until after you've done it."

"Doing things spontaneously often causes problems for others," riposted Watanabe. "Did this not cause problems for those you left behind in England?"

That was something Harry didn't prefer to be reminded of, but he knew that in all honesty, it was a fair question. Thinking of Ron and Hermione, he said, "The people who care about me will understand why I did what I did. They know what I've been through, and they'll know I needed to get away." Probably, he added to himself.

"You said you wanted to learn about Japan," said Watanabe, with a slightly haughty air. "One thing you should know is that we consider quite carefully the impact our actions have on others. Actions never affect just the one person. Our society is the sum of our individual actions, so what one does affects all. We are taught from childhood to never forget this."

"I understand," said Harry politely.

"I would be surprised if you did," responded Watanabe. "You are quite young, and even many of our own people of your age do not understand this properly." He looked down at a parchment scroll; Harry said nothing, waiting. "Do you still wish to remain in Japan?"

Not if everybody is like you, Harry restrained himself from saying. Still, something about the country intrigued him; he found that he was curious to find out how it worked. "Yes, I do."

"Relationships are valued in our country," said Watanabe, as Harry fought back the impulse to point out that Japan was surely not the only country in which this was so. "The social fabric is very tight. The chains of society link us together, so disruptions are widely felt. I say this because those who wish to spend time in our country--those who apply and are accepted, in the proper way--are required to study twenty hours' worth of background cultural materials so that they understand the cultural basics. If you stay, will you make every effort to learn what is needed to fit into the culture as a guest, causing the minimum possible amount of cultural disruption?"

In other words, do you promise to be a good boy and do what you're told? "Yes, I will."

Watanabe nodded. "It has been arranged, then, that you will stay as a guest with the family of my subordinate. You will, of course, be expected to follow all Japanese laws, and conform to cultural norms. It will be your host's responsibility to inform you of those, and it is better that you ask your host before taking actions that could be disruptive if you are in any doubt. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I do." Better to keep it short. If my host is anything like this guy, my stay here may be shorter than I thought. Still, better than a prison cell.

"Very well." He Summoned the wood stick that Harry had used to transport there from his detainment area, then directed it to Harry, who reached for the handle. "Stand up, and grasp the one on the right."

Harry did, and a second later found himself in another office, this one slightly smaller and more lived-in. He was greeted by the man behind the desk, who was younger--Harry guessed he was in his early fifties, perhaps Arthur Weasley's age--than the one whose office he'd just left. But while the other man had been dour and slightly arrogant, this man was cheerful and friendly.

"Mr. Potter," said the man, stepping out from behind his desk and offering Harry his hand, which Harry shook. "My name is Kenichi Sato. It's a pleasure to meet you." He was slim, a few inches shorter than Harry, with black hair streaked with a little gray. His eyes seemed more expressive than those of any Japanese Harry had met so far; it seemed to Harry that this man was genuinely pleased to meet him. But who knows, thought Harry, maybe he's just a good actor.

"Nice to meet you," said Harry.

"Oh, please sit down," said Sato.

Something occurred to Harry as they sat, Sato next to him rather than behind the desk. He noticed that he was hearing the man speak directly, not through the translation artifact. "You speak English?"

"Somewhat. Not as well as I would hope, but I do my best." It sounded pretty good to Harry, though. His intonation was much more natural than Kaz's, and his accent was very light.

"First, please allow me to tell you about myself," continued Sato. "My position is Deputy Foreign Minister for English-Speaking Countries. I have spent three years overseas throughout my career, and sometimes deal with diplomats from Australia, New Zealand, Canada, the U.S., and Britain, so English ability is necessary for my job. Partly because of my position, and my English ability, it has been decided that you will stay with me and my family while you are here."

Harry nodded. "I'm sorry if I'm causing you any trouble." He said it because he felt he was supposed to, but it was also more or less true.

"Oh, no, not at all," said Sato enthusiastically. "Really, it's our pleasure to have you. It will be good for my family to get to know you." Harry wasn't sure if he truly had the ability to tell whether someone was lying, but he could detect no lie in anything Sato had said.

"Well, thank you."

"It's no problem. Now, before we continue, I wonder if you could tell me exactly when you arrived, and what you have done since then, in as much detail as possible. It will help me to explain Japan to you if I find out what you already know."

Harry sensed that there was also another reason for the question, but wasn't sure if it was truly the case. Wondering to what extent he should talk about Kaz, he decided it was necessary--he didn't want to start off with this man by lying, what he said could be verified, and there was no reason to think he should hide anything anyway. He decided only to omit any mention of Chieko; if he was a ronin but she wasn't, she could get in trouble for visiting him. He took about fifteen minutes to tell the story. After he finished, he had a question for Sato. "Kaz said the people who attacked us, and him when I helped him, were called ronin, outcasts from society. I'm wondering, if they're criminals, why not put them in jail, instead of making them outcasts? And why let them keep their wands?"

Sato looked uncomfortable. "To be honest, Potter-san--"

"Please, call me Harry."

Sato nodded. "I understand your wish, which is common among Westerners, but in Japan, such a form of address would be considered disrespectful. Here, the standard form of address is to say the person's last name followed by the honorific 'san,' much like 'Mr.' In English. A more casual form would be the person's first name followed by 'san.' For example, when you are in my home, you should address everyone by first name followed by 'san,' mainly because if you called everyone 'Sato-san,' it would be confusing. But for others, using the last name is better."

"I see. Well, could you call me 'Harry-san' then, at least?"

With a small grin, Sato nodded. "Of course. So, as I was saying... I would have preferred to inform you about the situation regarding ronin after you had learned more about Japanese society; that would have given you a better background to properly understand such things." Harry thought about telling Sato he didn't have to explain, but decided to let Sato decide.

"First, you have to understand that Japanese society is very close, with many interwoven relationships. We depend on the proper and responsible actions of others to maintain the cohesion of society. We have a phrase which can be translated as 'the strong links of society'--"

Harry didn't exactly interrupt; Sato had taken a slight pause to think, but Harry reminded himself of what Kaz had said about interrupting. "Watanabe-san," he began, remembering at the last second to add the 'san,' "used the phrase, and my artifact gave it as 'the chains of society.' He wanted to avoid mentioning anything specific that Kaz had told him.

"That's a common translation," agreed Sato, "but I prefer 'strong links' because of the restrictive feeling of the word 'chains,' especially in English. The phrase is meant to convey a sense of connection, not restriction.

"The phrase emphasizes how connected we feel to each other, and our responsibility to each other. We have specific ways of relating to each other, more formalized than you would be used to. This is meant to reduce friction. To say it in a way you may understand better, let us say that you have an argument with someone you meet in a bar, someone you have never met. If you anger him, and he angers you, you may think it unimportant, because you will probably never meet him again. Here, we treat such a person as if they were someone we might have a future relationship with. For this reason, we are not as... frank as you would be in a similar situation. The better we get to know someone, the more frank we can be with them, but even that level would be less than it would be with you. Two of my Canadian friends were having lunch with me not long ago, and in the course of a friendly disagreement, one said to the other, 'no offense, but you're an idiot.' Here, even among close friends, such a comment would be unthinkable."

Harry grinned. "The one who said it probably thought he was being polite by saying 'no offense.' Not everyone would."

"Indeed. This is one of the most difficult things for non-Japanese to get used to about being here. One cannot simply say whatever is on one's mind as you can in your home country. Each relationship has a context, and there is a range of acceptable behavior within that relationship. This range is much narrower than it is for Westerners. The... what is the word... ah, yes, parameters of the relationship are much determined by the comparative status of the people. The status is determined largely by age, and to some extent by occupation or other factors."

"Wealth?" asked Harry, thinking of the Malfoys.

"Oh, absolutely not," said Sato, looking mildly taken aback. "Obvious displays of wealth are frowned upon here. We have currency, of course, but it is rather evenly distributed. We have merchants and entrepreneurs, but the government monitors their profits, and sees to it that no one becomes wealthy beyond a certain point. No, when I said 'other factors,' I was thinking of such things as family prestige or accomplishments, but those are not usually factors.

"Now, because of this societal closeness, rude or inappropriate behavior is a much more serious offense than it would be for you. Children are raised with great emphasis on the correctness of their social interactions. As with anything, some children are more difficult than others to teach; with such children, great efforts are made to guide them, to teach them how to deal with others. To take an extreme example, in your culture, someone who communicated only by shouting would be shunned before long. Our version of such a person would be someone who frequently and deliberately insulted, provoked, or contradicted others, especially elders."

Harry nodded. "In England, that kind of person wouldn't exactly be popular, but he could function in society. So, that's the kind of person who becomes a ronin?"

"More or less. Please understand, we make every effort to prevent that from happening. Such people are dealt with very patiently, given many chances to improve their behavior. Family members intercede, many warnings are given. The people who end up as ronin have made a deliberate, conscious choice not to be members of Japanese wizarding society. It is to our great regret that it ever happens at all, but sometimes it does."

"So, they didn't commit a crime, as such. If they did, they'd go to jail. Is that right?"

"Yes, that's right."

"I'm wondering... there are wizards in England who think that because they have magical power, they're better than Muggles. Are there Japanese wizards who think so?"

Sato looked thoughtful. "An interesting question, one which we would not think to ask. I would say that if there are, they keep such opinions to themselves. It would be highly immodest to express the opinion that you are better than someone else, so no one would. Personally, I would say that we are not better than Muggles, just different. Some would say that Muggles have drifted too far from our current societal customs, but that is an issue of culture, not magic."

I can see where that makes sense, thought Harry. "How do they stop ronin from attacking Muggles? Like, doing what they did to Kaz?"

"I will answer your question, but I would like to make a quick observation first," said Sato agreeably. "You have now asked several questions about ronin. I do not mind answering them; I understand your interest, as you were attacked by them. But I would recommend that you do not ask other Japanese about them, particularly multiple questions. Your interest might be misunderstood as wishing to focus on the negative aspects of Japan. If someone came to England and asked many questions about injustice and matters which did not reflect well on England..."

Harry shrugged a little. "I wouldn't care."

"No, many Westerners would not. Japanese have a stronger-than-average national pride, however, so we do."

"I understand," said Harry. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Sato shook his head. "No, it is all right. I am simply advising you in how to deal with others, especially those who do not understand your culture as I do. As for your question, the Memory Charm is one kind of spell that is detected. If a ronin did magic against a Muggle, news would spread through the Muggle community, and wizards whose job it is to monitor the Muggle community would hear about it. They would then locate the perpetrator and arrest him; he would likely go to prison. It is an imperfect system, but it generally works well enough."

Harry had no further immediate questions; after a pause, Sato spoke again. "Well, then, let us take care of some matters of an official nature that need to be dealt with. There are some forms that you will need to fill out; these are the ones that those who come to Japan in the normal way must. Attached to some of the forms will be an apology form."

"An apology form?" Harry repeated, surprised.

"I know it sounds peculiar to you, but it is standard for us. If one fills out a form late, improperly, or outside the norm in some ways, it is customary to attach what can be called an apology form, recognizing that you did something outside the standard fashion, and apologizing for any inconvenience your actions have caused."

Harry chuckled. "Kaz did say there was a lot of apologizing in Japan. But a form to apologize... it just seems really funny."

"Understandable," said Sato. He reached over to his desk and picked up a stack of parchment that seemed almost an inch high, took one off the top, and handed it to a surprised Harry, who wondered whether he had to fill out all of those forms. "This is the first page of the Cultural Exchange Visitor Application Form..."

* * * * *

With Sato's patient assistance, Harry spent the next few hours filling out forms, occasionally pausing to ask questions about the forms. The paperwork was mind-numbing, relieved only by a lunch break and the occasional occurrence of humor, such as Harry's laughter when Sato explained that he had to fill out an apology form to apologize for lateness in filling out the apology form which apologized for filling out the forms in Japan rather than the applicant's home country.

Then it was time to go submit the forms. Sato explained that they would have to visit three separate area: the Foreign Ministry, the Interior Ministry, and the Culture Ministry, whose application forms Harry had found to be the oddest, asking questions which seemed designed to construct a psychological profile of the applicant. Sato had explained that since a foreign person could affect the Japanese culture, the Ministry wanted to know what kind of person they were. Harry thought, but didn't say, that Japanese culture was pretty fragile if it could be affected that easily.

They left Sato's office, and walked down hallways. It was Harry's first time to see the building, and was surprised that it was so big; it seemed like the kind of spacious office complex that he'd seen on Muggle television, and there didn't seem to be more than one floor. "Is this place in Tokyo?" he asked as they walked.

"Yes, it is. Why do you ask?"

"When I was flying over Tokyo, it looked extremely crowded. I can't imagine where you'd find the space for this."

"I can understand why this would surprise you, but we are actually on a very small area of land, greatly enhanced magically. Tokyo has several parks, some of which contain many wizarding homes, unseen by Muggles. We are in a place called 'Kokyo,' which means, the Emperor's Palace. The area, a relatively large one by Tokyo Muggle standards, is used not only for the Magical Ministry, but also it contains what you would consider the equivalent of Diagon Alley."

Harry's eyebrows rose. "You've seen Diagon Alley?"

"Once, very long ago; it would have been before you were born. I visited England, though it was not one of the English-speaking countries I spent time in. I spent a year each in the U.S., Australia, and New Zealand."

As Sato spoke, Harry noticed Japanese wizards passing them, often greeting or nodding at Sato, and sometimes looking at Harry. A few gave him very odd looks, or longish stares. They arrived at the part of the Foreign Ministry where they had to submit the forms, and were told they had to wait; they took seats.

"This all looks very new," Harry observed.

Sato nodded. "This whole complex was built only ten years ago. It caused a great controversy."

"Why? Because of the cost?"

"No," said Sato. "It is because the previous complex had been in existence for over two hundred years, and change does not come easily for us. Because it was so old, as it expanded, it became very disorganized; parts of different ministries were spread all over, very inefficiently. Also, it was much more old-fashioned, with straw--what we call 'tatami'--mats in most offices. Many people liked it that way, or at least were used to it, and did not want to change. The new system is much better, but only recently did some of my seniors cease expressing their displeasure about the change."

"What about your... juniors, I guess, the people younger than you?"

"They would not express displeasure to me, as I am their senior," explained Sato. Duh, I should have thought of that, Harry said to himself. Kaz said something like that.

"Speaking of your seniors... the Foreign Minister, Watanabe-san, wasn't exactly friendly when I talked to him. He seemed to think of me like I was some kind of annoyance, like I'd done something to offend him, but I didn't say much to him, so I can't imagine what it could be. Do you have any idea?"

Sato seemed to look around nervously as they waited, then responded, his voice low. "This is... a question which, if asked of most Japanese, would make them uncomfortable. As a learning exercise, I would like you to think about why that would be."

"Oh. Sorry." Harry thought for a minute, then answered. "Because if the answer is something like 'he's not a nice guy,' you don't want to have to say that, because he's your boss?"

Sato nodded. "Very good. Not exactly correct, but along the right lines. In general, asking anyone to offer an opinion regarding their senior is awkward, especially a question which cannot really be answered without some negative reference. The person asked in this case will tend to avoid the question. The standard conversational tactic here would be to say something like, 'It could be any number of things. Watanabe-san has been my boss for ten years, and we have a good relationship.' The first part of the answer is vague and non-responsive, and the second explains the absence of an answer. The person has essentially said to you, 'why do you ask me this when you know I cannot answer?' So, if you ask someone a question and the answer is non-responsive, it is a good idea to think about why the person found it difficult to answer.

"Now, to answer your question... in his case, I believe it is mainly because of your age. He probably thinks of you as if you were an errant schoolboy, and finds it difficult to believe that you came to Japan in the way you did. He also may be vaguely insulted that you did not specifically intend to come to Japan, but ended up here anyway. But I feel your age must be the main factor. Someone of his age may tend to speak to someone of your age somewhat... imperiously, as if to emphasize the difference in their status. And... I'm sorry, but this is where my answer must end." He gave Harry a small smile.

Harry returned the smile. "I understand. Sorry about that, it's just a little hard for me to get used to."

"I completely understand. This is the reason for the twenty hours of background cultural materials."

Harry nodded. "It's interesting... my school's headmaster was quite old, much more than Watanabe-san, but he was always kind to me, and treated me with respect. Would that not happen here?"

Sato shrugged a little. "It would be rare, but... would you be referring to Professor Dumbledore?"

Harry's eyebrows went high. "You know him?"

"I met him the same day I saw Diagon Alley, almost thirty years ago. I talked with him for fifteen or twenty minutes, and I found him a most remarkable man. But I believe a man like him is rare, even in your culture?"

Not realizing it, Harry took on a melancholy tone. "Yes, he was. He was a great man, probably a unique man. But I see your point. We can't expect other people to be like him."

"In any case," added Sato, "it would not be impossible for a Japanese man to be such as him. Just quite rare. But, yes, it was an honor to meet him. Did you have the privilege of knowing him well?"

Harry became even more melancholy as images from King's Cross came to his mind. "Yes. Yes, I did."

They sat in silence until called on, after which they stood and submitted their forms to the proper person. Sato answered a few questions from the bureaucrat, and apologized a few times. Listening to the conversation, Harry still couldn't understand the reason for the apologies. Maybe general principle, he thought wryly.

The trip to the Interior Ministry was unremarkable, except that again Harry found himself the recipient of many peculiar looks. They did not have to wait at this stop, and were quickly on their way to the Culture Ministry. As they walked, Harry reflected that it seemed strange even to have a Culture Ministry.

A man who appeared slightly older than Sato approached; Sato bowed a little as they approached each other, though clearly neither intended to stop. "Good day, Kameda-san," said Sato politely.

"Kenichi," replied the other man, more casual than polite. As they passed, he added, "Got the short straw, I see."

Harry couldn't help but turn his head slightly to glance at the other man, then turned again to see Sato's expressionless face. Harry could imagine what was going through Sato's mind, but decided to speak anyway. "That meant what I thought it meant, right?"

"Can we sit for a moment, Harry-san?" asked Sato, his expression just a little different than usual. He motioned them to a sofa that was intended to be used by people waiting for a bureaucrat whose office was currently closed, and they sat.

"I... gather from your expression that you were not offended."

Harry shrugged. "Not especially. Believe me, I've heard much worse. If I got offended every time something like that happened, I'd be crazy by now. And whoever he is, I really don't care what he thinks."

"A very healthy attitude," said Sato. "However, I feel I must--"

"You really don't have to--"

"Apologize on his behalf," Sato continued, to Harry's mild surprise. "He would certainly want to apologize if he knew that he had been understood, so I do so for him. I also apologize on behalf of Japanese people in general, as it is sadly the case that his attitude, while not universal, is hardly unique. This is something I would have gradually explained in the normal course of events had I not been forced to do so now.

"Japan is... a relatively isolated country. Partly because our main islands cannot be reached by Apparition from any other country, but also because we are very protective of our culture. Muggle culture used to be more like ours, until outside influence forced it to change in ways many of their traditionalists regret. Many do not want that to happen to the wizarding world as well. As a result, most of our people are not exposed to outside cultures and influences, and an unfortunate prejudice has built up. Some of our more chauvinistic citizens assume that Japan is superior to other countries in terms of culture, and that foreigners are usually unsophisticated, uncouth, and something to be tolerated only to the extent necessary. It pains me to say this, but it is the truth."

"Well, it's a little like how some English wizards regard Muggles," said Harry. "But I don't feel like I have to apologize for them. It's their prejudice, not mine."

Sato's smile was one of embarrassment. "A very kind, and I suppose, Western attitude. But I do feel I need to apologize for such people, because we Japanese have a much stronger sense of functioning as a group. We think of ourselves as group members first, and individuals second, which is why we have so many customs and laws which you would see as overly restrictive. Our first duty is to not harm the group, and we are taught to consider ourselves somewhat responsible for the behavior of others in the group. The idea is to cause us to realize that others are responsible for our behavior, so we restrain our own behavior."

"Wow," said Harry, noting mentally that he seemed to be using the word a lot recently. "I guess that's in the cultural materials too."

"More or less," agreed Sato.

"But one thing that surprises me is that it seemed like it was rude to you, too. I mean, dealing with foreigners is your job, so it's like you should have to be embarrassed by doing your job."

Sato seemed impressed that Harry had worked it out. "Yes, that's right. I admit to being somewhat surprised myself. Kameda-san is... someone who I have never been particularly fond of," he said, as Harry translated it to 'I really hate him' in his mind. "I should also explain that working in the Foreign Ministry is not considered a high-prestige position. Kameda-san and a few others have been known to make little comments about it. The one just now was probably the strongest one I've heard him say, and even if you had not understood it, it would be quite rude by Japanese standards. We try to be polite, but not everyone is, especially towards their juniors, which I am to him. He simply does it in a way which is not grievously socially unacceptable."

Meaning, towards someone who's lower in rank, with no one around to hear him be rude, thought Harry. What a nice guy. "Well, I think there are people like that in every country. So, why don't we continue on to the Culture Ministry."

Sato nodded, and they stood. "I really appreciate your understanding attitude."

They started walking. "Nothing I haven't heard before, like I said. No big deal. But I am surprised that you draw straws here."

"What do you mean?"

"Draw straws. You know, to choose someone to do something no one wants to do."

Sato looked confused for a minute, then a light dawned. "Is that how your device translated what he said?" Harry nodded. "Fascinating. What he actually said was that I must have lost the jan-ken-poi, which translates as paper-rock-scissors. Quite impressive; your device substituted the most culturally similar phrase rather than translate it literally, which is what a good translator should do." Harry wasn't surprised; any artifact that Dumbledore saw fit to pass on was bound to be good.

The Culture Ministry turned out to be the hardest stop. The people on duty hadn't heard about Harry's case, and were shocked to hear that they were expected to approve the residence of someone who had not only come to Japan in a totally unauthorized fashion, but also studied none of the cultural background materials. In what seemed to Harry to be a long, circuitous discussion, Sato repeatedly assured the department's workers that this was all approved, and that he would be personally responsible for Harry's cultural education. After twenty minutes it was still not settled; Sato asked Harry to wait outside while he went into the office of the senior person on duty at the time.

Harry found that his newly enhanced hearing enabled him to, with a little concentration, follow what was being said in the office. He heard Sato say that the Minister of Magic himself had approved Harry's stay in Japan, and the bureaucrat should talk to the Minister's office to confirm it. The officer said he would, but that did not remove his personal obligation to carefully monitor all such cases, especially such an irregular one as this. Sato said he understood, and appealed again for the man to contact a higher authority. After a few more minutes of tedious discussion, Harry got tired of listening, and focused on his own thoughts.

Thirty minutes later, Sato finally left the room, clutching a handful of forms. "Harry-san, are you ready to go?"

Harry grinned. "You're joking, right?" He stood, and they headed off, Harry following. "What was all that about, anyway? It was pretty fast at the other places."

"The delay," explained Sato, "was, I believe, their way of expressing their displeasure over how your case was handled. They had not been told of your situation, which was their Minister's way of expressing his displeasure."

Harry frowned. "Didn't they get the Culture Minister's permission before doing this?"

"Yes, they did. I do not know for certain, but am reasonably sure that he was unhappy with the situation. Bureaucrats do not like to be rushed, and since you are here, decisions had to be made expeditiously; keeping you in confinement while bureaucrats dragged their heels--or, as the Americans liked to say, took their own sweet time--was not viewed as a diplomatically astute option. So, the Minister took quick action. The Interior Ministry did not care so much; their approval is needed, but you are obviously not any kind of threat to internal security. But the Culture Ministry guards its prerogatives rather jealously. So, while the Minister of Culture may have given his grudging assent at the request of the Minister of Magic, he expressed his displeasure by not telling his subordinates about the situation while making himself unavailable, knowing the difficulty this would cause us."

Harry shook his head in wonderment. "You know, it's funny... I've seen all kinds of cultural differences since I got here, but this situation is one I could really see happening in England, the same way. My friend's father, who worked at England's Ministry, told a few stories that sounded a lot like this. Infighting, people blocking what other people are trying to do in exchange for favors..."

"Indeed, it was made clear to me that a debt was owed by my department to their department. I do not believe they care so much about that; rather, they ask it on principle."

Harry chuckled. "Well, it wasn't as though you dragged me to Japan and made them accept me. I'm just a problem that you had to deal with. You'd think they'd understand that."

"Well, first let me make clear that I am pleased to have you here, and am looking forward to having you stay with us. But to address your comment, their preference would have been to simply have you deported, and if you wished to come, to do so through the normal channels. The Foreign Ministry preferred not to do so, and the Minister of Magic chose what we wished rather than what they wished. So, yes, infighting would be a reasonably good description of the situation."

"I feel like apologizing for all the trouble, but I suppose that's what all the forms were about," Harry half-joked.

"Exactly. I made sure that apology forms were included in every possible place they could be. Partly as recognition of the highly unusual circumstances, and partly to make sure they could not complain that any form was lacking."

They had arrived back at Sato's office; Sato began to file away the completed forms. "Do you mind if I ask a question?" asked Harry.

"You may be asking many dozens of questions while you are here," replied Sato with understated humor. "I do not mind at all. Please go ahead."

"I noticed I was getting funny looks in the hallways. Is that because everyone knows my situation, or because I'm not Japanese?"

"It is the latter, I'm afraid. Most of the Ministry would not know or care about your situation, but a Westerner walking the halls of the Ministry is a rare sight, and someone of your age doing so is even rarer."

"I was going to say that a Japanese walking down the halls of our Ministry might get attention, but maybe he wouldn't, now that I think about it. Some British people look Asian, so the person might work there."

"Yes, and the same is true in all of the English-speaking countries," agreed Sato. "Japan is not an ethnically diverse country. So unfortunately, at least until people get used to your presence, there may be a certain amount of staring."

Harry chuckled. "I'm used to that, anyway." Sato gave him a quizzical look, but didn't inquire further.

* * * * *

Soon thereafter, they took a Portkey to Sato's home. They arrived in a small nook near what appeared to be the living room; an area large enough for two people to stand comfortably seemed to have been carved out of the living room wall. Clever idea, thought Harry; a specific Portkey arrival site. Wonder why we don't have that. Oh, yeah, Portkeys aren't allowed most of the time. But this is a good idea.

Sato stepped out of the arrival nook and loudly said "Tadaima," translated for Harry as "I'm home" by his artifact. The female-sounding reply of "Okaeri," which sounded familiar now that he thought about it, went untranslated as it had at Kaz's place. Harry stepped out a pace behind his host.

A woman briskly walked into the room. She was more than half a head shorter than Harry, with a conservative shoulder-length hairstyle. Looking to be in her late forties or early fifties, she was fairly attractive for her age. "Harry, this is my wife Sawako," said Sato. Turning to his wife, he said in Japanese, "This is Harry Potter, from England."

"Pleased to meet you," she said through the translator; Sato had already explained that his wife knew no English. She bowed deeply.

"Nice to meet you, too," Harry said politely, bowing as he'd seen Japanese do many times by then.

"Please allow us to show you the house," she said. "This is the living room, of course." The room was fairly large, a bit larger than the living room at Grimmauld Place. There was a tasteful beige rug covering most of the floor, a wide table that was about the height of a coffee table that was clearly intended for people to sit in front of while sitting on the floor, and there was also a sofa and two chairs near one of the walls. There was artwork on two of the walls, and one had an indentation in the wall that housed what looked to Harry like a small shrine; the shrine was about three feet wide and two feet tall, with detailed crafting. It looked as though dozens of man-hours had been spent just on the detail work. Harry wondered if every family in Japan had one.

Sato gestured at it; Harry wondered if Sato had seen him looking at it, or if it was just because it was the most striking object in the living room. "This is our family's shrine. All Japanese families have one; we use it to talk to the spirits of our departed ancestors."

Harry nodded, but said nothing. There were some things he was curious about, but wanted to be careful about asking questions that he couldn't know might be offensive. He would wait until he learned more of the culture, or ask Sato directly without anyone else around.

The went into the kitchen, which was also surprisingly spacious, with a lot of counter space. An old woman was chopping vegetables, apparently not with the use of magic. "Harry-san, this is my mother, Maeko," said Sato as the woman stopped her work and bowed. "In Japan, we call the women of her age 'obaa-san,' which can mean 'grandmother' or 'honored elderly lady.' You can address her in this way as well. Obaa-san, this is Harry Potter, from England."

Harry bowed again. "Nice to meet you, obaa-san."

She bowed and smiled; she looked about eighty, but didn't seem stooped or frail. "Nice to meet you. I am sure my son will do a good job looking after you."

Harry nodded. "He has already." He almost added that Sato hadn't had an easy time at the Ministry, but realized that if he said it, Sato would have to explain, and his wife and mother might be embarrassed on his behalf. Maybe the less said the better here, he thought.

They passed through a Western-style room with a large table; Sato explained that this was the dining room, but that they often ate at the table in the living room while sitting on the floor. "One represents the old ways, and one, the new ways; we like to do both," said Sato.

They passed a room off to the side of the house that was very bare, with only six of the straw mats that Harry had seen in confinement covering the floor. "The mats you see on the floor are called tatami, as I mentioned at the Ministry," said Sato. "It is a very traditional flooring material, and was the flooring of choice in Japan for centuries. Most new homes have adopted hard floors, but most homes also have at least one such room, partly to remind us not to forget the past. For us, it serves as a meditation room. If we feel stressed, or want to get away from things and experience a quiet time, we go to this room. When the door is closed, it is well soundproofed. The door is only closed when the room is occupied, and when we finish, we leave the door open."

"It looks very peaceful," observed Harry. It also reminded him strongly of the confinement room, but decided to keep that observation to himself.

The next rooms passed were the bedrooms of the Satos' two children, followed by a mostly empty room, again surprisingly large. There was a desk and chair, a thick rug on the floor, and a sliding-door closet made of paper that had a very pretty flower design. "This is the guest room, and so is the room you will be staying in," said Sato. "There is no bed, but there are futons and bedding in the closet."

Harry nodded. "Thank you very much," he said, because he felt as though he should, and couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Oh, not at all," said a smiling Mrs. Sato. "We hope you will enjoy staying here."

The tour concluded with the study, which contained several bookshelves, and a few racks that contained scrolls, such as Harry had seen at the Ministry. Sato pointed to a shelf that contained several dozen English books, encouraging Harry to read any he felt like.

Harry was about to thank him again when two shouts of 'I'm home' were heard from the living room; Mrs. Sato went scurrying out of the room while she gave the standard reply. Harry took the opportunity to ask Sato, "Why doesn't my artifact translate that word you say when people come home?"

"'Tadaima' can be reasonably translated as 'I'm home,' because people in Western countries do say that upon returning home," explained Sato. "But 'okaeri,' which is a greeting in answer to the one who has returned home, has no real translation because there is nothing in particular Westerners say in this situation. They may say 'hello' or another greeting, but nothing specific for the person who has returned. So, your translator leaves it blank, which is probably the best choice for this situation."

"Interesting," said Harry.

Sato nodded. "Yes, I think so too. There may be times when I ask you how the device translated something. I have seen translation artifacts, but yours seems particularly good."

Mrs. Sato returned to the room, followed by the Satos' two children, who Sato introduced. "Harry, this is my son Yasunori, and my daughter Masako. Their ages are eighteen and nineteen." Motioning to Harry, Sato said, "This is Harry Potter. He is from England, and he'll be staying with us for a while."

"Nice to meet you," they said in unison, bowing.

"Nice to meet you," he responded, trying to imitate their bows. Yasunori was only a few inches shorter than Harry, and taller than his father; he was thin, with slightly narrow eyes and a weak chin. Masako was much shorter, five or six inches shorter than her brother. She had round cheeks and more Western eyes; Harry felt she wouldn't be considered pretty, but perhaps 'cute' would be suitable.

Sato nodded to his wife, who ushered the children out of the room, and followed them. "Perhaps you would like to look around the room, or look in the study at the books I mentioned. I need to take care of something, but I should not be too long."

"Of course," responded Harry; Sato nodded, and left the room, closing the door behind him. A half a minute later, Harry 'saw' a magical field go up; it was strange, because he knew it was being put up in another room. It wasn't that he could see through the wall, but it was as though the magic was bright enough to shine through the material blocking the ordinary view.

He immediately realized what it was; it had to be a spell that kept anyone outside from hearing. He suddenly became acutely interested in what was being said, and quickly debated what to do. He could use the Elder Wand to break the field's effectiveness, but he hesitated. If they somehow knew he did it, it could cause a fair amount of trouble, and Sato had been nothing but kind to him. On the other hand, what would he be saying that was such a secret? It had to be about him. Deciding quickly, he used his wand to breach the field, and his improved hearing took him the rest of the way. He picked up the conversation near what seemed like the beginning.

"...to make sure everyone understands the situation, so any problems can be avoided. I have told you before that Westerners have a different style of social interaction than we do. He will naturally want to ask questions about us, and about Japan, and we should not discourage him. Because of his lack of understanding of our country, some of his questions may seem to us to be inappropriate, or offensive. Keep in mind that he does not mean them to be so. Answer as best you can, and if you cannot do so politely, just avoid the question. I have already explained to him that Japanese will tend to avoid questions we find too uncomfortable to answer. Never assume he has a negative motivation for any question or comment he might make. At the same time, you would do best not to adopt his style of questions or comments. Always keep in mind that you are Japanese, and act accordingly. Deal with him with the politeness and cultural awareness you would if he were Japanese. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand," the two teenagers chorused.

"There is one other thing," Sato went on, "that you should be aware of, but not tell anyone else. He is a famous person in his home country, and has been since a very young age; I have long been aware of him by following the English media. He is very modest, however, and would prefer not to be famous. He unknowingly came to Japan in an unauthorized way, on a Muggle aircraft. He was apprehended and held for a day; in that time, he did not attempt to use his name or his influence in his country to get better treatment, even though he easily could have. We contacted his home country; they did not know where he was. Made aware of the situation, his country's Minister of Magic quickly became personally involved, strongly imploring us to treat Potter-san as we would a highly honored dignitary, and expressing that doing so would be a deep favor both to him and to England."

"Wow," said a young male voice; must be the son, thought Harry. "Why is he so famous and honored?"

"He was famous from childhood due to events that he was unknowingly involved in; explaining them would take too long. But recently, he was involved in events concerning resistance to a Dark wizard who had taken control of England. He and his friends resisted this wizard, at great personal risk. Near the end of the struggle--I was shown a memory. He faced the wizard, knowing that it would mean his death, because it was necessary for the survival of his people. Through a quirk of fate, he survived, and went on to defeat the wizard who had subjugated his people. The memory I saw... was the most remarkable thing I have ever seen. Facing certain death, surrounded by his enemies, he did not flinch, did not waver. If all Japanese people knew this, he would be as honored here as he is in his country."

"But then, why must we not tell anyone?" asked the son.

"Because he wants to be treated as a normal person is treated. I have spent hours with him, and he has not brought up the topic, has acted as if there were nothing special about him."

"Well, that is what a person should do," said Sato's wife.

"In our country, yes, but not in his. In his, his actions show highly unusual modesty. In any case, I tell you this because since he will be living with us, you should know why it is important to treat him with respect. But you must not even hint to another person that there is anything unusual or special about him."

The son spoke again. "I understand, Father, but... since foreigners are not well understood, some people may treat him with less respect than they should."

"It has already occurred, at the Ministry. He was remarkably sanguine about it. I apologized and explained the reason, and I believe he understands. Also, Westerners are more expressive and frank, so he is not as easily offended as we would be. But he deserves to see what our country is like, both the good and the bad. We must never be so arrogant as to imagine that there is nothing about our country that could be improved. It may be instructive to see Japan through his eyes.

"Another reason I tell you this is to urge you to be careful regarding what questions you ask him. I believe he would want you to feel free to ask questions about his country or his culture, but he has had more than his share of personal heartaches and tragedies. He has lost people he cared about, and endured great hardship. So, even innocent questions related to personal matters may be difficult for him to answer without explaining details that he may not wish to fully explain."

The children acknowledged their father's words, and left the room. Harry guessed that only Sato and his wife were now in the room. "They may be afraid to ask him anything now," said his wife.

"I know. But for now I would rather err in that direction than the other one. When we were talking, I referred to his school's late headmaster, and the change in his mood was obvious. He and the headmaster were clearly close, which I had not known. If I can make a mistake so easily, so can they."

"Has he really been through so much? Did you overstate it a little, for their benefit?"

"You may not believe this, but I understated it. He has been through far too much for someone of his age. It is easy for me to understand why he wanted to get out of his country."

"Oh, dear," said Sawako, sympathy evident in her tone. "What will he do while he is here?"

"I'm not sure. I was thinking of the summer session of Yasunori's school. I'll try to set up a meeting with the headmaster of the school tomorrow, and see if they will accept him as a visiting student. It would be good for him to learn how we do magic."

"What if Harry-san doesn't want to do that?"

"Then he won't. I don't intend to push him into doing anything. I will suggest it, but if he has other ideas, that will be fine."

"I should go and help obaa-san with dinner preparations." After that, Harry heard no further conversation.

He leaned back in the chair, careful not to lean back too far. Well, he thought, Sato knows about me. I suppose I should have guessed that; all he has to do is read the Prophet, which if he's in charge of relations with English-speaking countries, he'd do occasionally. At least now I know for sure that he means well, even if he's a little too careful. It's not like I'm going to break down if someone asks me about my family. But I suppose he doesn't want to assume that.

Funny how Kingsley didn't ask for me back, and went as far as he did on my behalf. He must know he's got a lot to make up to me, not that what he did even comes close to starting. And how the hell did he get that memory he showed Sato? Narcissa Malfoy? One of the other Death Eaters there, after being captured? Weird. Not that I care, of course.

Such thoughts occupied him until he heard a knock on his door. He got up to answer, and it was Sato, offering to take him on a tour of the backyard, which turned out to have a small garden. Harry asked how they could have so much space; Sato explained that the space of the home was magically enhanced, and the garden was because they were far enough from Tokyo that space was not a major issue. They took Portkeys to most places they needed to go; Harry gathered that permanent Portkeys were the equivalent of fireplaces here. "Fireplaces never really caught on here," explained Sato, "as this country is prone to earthquakes, and special attention must always be paid to fires. Deadly fires have started in the Muggle world after earthquakes." Harry wondered if he would be staying around long enough to experience an earthquake.

They went back inside, into the living room, where Yasunori was pointing his wand at a circle on the wall that had concentric circles, not unlike targets Harry had seen for Muggles practicing with guns. Yasunori's target was about twenty feet away, and Harry saw the energy shoot from Yasunori's wand and hit the target, causing a two-second indentation in the third circle from the center on the right side. He wondered why it made an indentation, then realized quickly that most people didn't see spells, so without it, there would be no way to see how well he had done.

"How much do you--" Harry asked Yasunori, intending to finish with the words 'practice that,' but Sato quickly made a subtle gesture to indicate that Yasunori's concentration shouldn't be disturbed. Harry was quiet as Yasunori took five more practice shots, concentrating intently, his best shot hitting the ring next to the center.

Yasunori put down his wand, clearly finished. "Sorry about that," said Harry.

"It's okay."

"We don't do target practice like that. How often do you practice?"

"About a half hour a day, if I'm not too busy. Would you like to try?"

"Sure." Harry walked over to where Yasunori was standing. "What spell do you use?"

"Do you know the 'neutral' spell?"

"Oh, okay. We call it the test spell. It's just impact, it doesn't do anything. Oh, by the way... I got picked up by your Aurors for using a Stunning spell in self-defense. Before I make any more mistakes, can you tell me what spells are illegal?"

Sato answered; Harry registered that Sato was now speaking Japanese, so as not to exclude his son from the conversation. "Illegal spells are ones that are meant to cause pain, to render a person unconscious, of course to kill or injure, to change one's own or another's bodily form, and to change another's experience of consciousness."

Harry was initially confused by the last one, but soon realized it covered things like Confundus curses and Memory Charms. "And the government's magic detectors will detect anyone doing any of those spells." Sato nodded. "But it's legal to use a spell to immobilize someone."

"It is considered a self-defense spell, but yes, it is legal," answered Sato.

"But there was something I saw when I first got here..." Harry explained how he had found Kaz, without mentioning Kaz's name, or that he had seen the magic. "He seemed to be in pain, and they were doing something to him. But if it's illegal to do spells to cause pain, then what were they doing?"

Sato looked uncomfortable. "Normally, a Japanese person asked this question would simply respond 'I don't know' and leave it at that, that answer being the literal truth, because the answer is somewhat embarrassing to us as a country. But I am almost certain that I know.

"There is a spell that causes an acute itching sensation; this spell is not illegal. One method of harassing a person here that is not uncommon is to first immobilize the victim with a freezing spell, then use the itching spell. The victim will be in strong discomfort, unable to do anything to relieve it. The more people administering the spell, the more acute the discomfort."

Harry was surprised. "And this is legal?"

"Thus, the embarrassment," said Sato. "It should not be. It is, sadly, sometimes used with the tacit consent of those higher in the hierarchy, as a means of enforcement of social conformity."

Ah, thought Harry. "You mean, bullying."

Sato seemed to cringe ever so slightly. "We generally try to avoid using such stark terms... but you are not incorrect. For your future reference, however, outside this house it is better to avoid using such direct words. I know in your country you are accustomed to calling things what they are, but for us, such words are often not socially acceptable, and can cause ill feeling."

"So... if something is unpleasant, you don't call it exactly what it is, so nobody has to feel too bad." I bet the people who this is done to don't have any problem calling it what it is, he thought.

"Yes, that's right. There are similar things in your culture, of course." Switching to English for a few words, he went on, "When someone has died, for example, you often do not say he died, but that he 'passed away,' or another such phrase. Bodily functions are often referred to euphemistically. We Japanese simply use euphemisms more often, reflecting the indirectness of our culture."

"Probably sometimes I won't know what you're talking about, if you use too many euphemisms," joked Harry.

"Until a few years ago," said Yasunori, "sometimes I could not follow adult conversations for that reason. It can be difficult."

"In some situations," added Sato, "it is seen as a conversational art form to speak as indirectly as possible. It is thought to show nuance and sophistication."

Something clicked for Harry. "And that's why you think--sorry, some Japanese think that foreigners are unsophisticated. Because we just say things directly."

"Yes, exactly," said Sato. "Those who understand foreign cultures know this is not so, that it is simply a cultural difference, and that there are no fewer sophisticated Westerners than Japanese." After a slight pause, Sato gestured to the target across the room.

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, having gotten caught up in the conversation. Concentrating, he fired the test spell, and saw it zoom from his wand and hit the target three rings below the bullseye. Annoyed, he tilted the wand up incrementally, and fired again; this time, it was one ring from the bullseye. The next shot hit the bullseye.

"That's good," said Yasunori cautiously, "but when you practice this, you're not supposed to hold it in place and move it a little, like you did. Otherwise..."

"It would be too easy," said Harry, saying what he supposed Yasunori didn't want to say directly, lest it sound like an insult. "Yeah, okay." Putting the wand down, he raised it again, aimed, and took a shot; three rings to the left. Four more shots yielded no better results. Discouraged, Harry put his hands on his hips.

"You don't usually practice this," said Yasunori encouragingly. "It's not bad for a first try."

Harry shook his head. "I know my aim is better than this. I have to figure out what I'm doing wrong."

There was silence as Harry thought. "Could it have to do with the fact that you are shooting at a target, which you are not used to doing?" suggested Sato.

Harry suddenly remembered something his father had said, then winced mentally at the memory; he had managed not to think about losing his parents for the past half hour. "Yes, thanks, that's it. Let me try again."

He focused on the bullseye, now imagining it not as a target, but as Voldemort's wand hand, from which he had to remove the wand. Holding the image in his mind, he closed his eyes, and quickly brought up his wand and fired. Operating on automatic, he did it nine more times, then opened his eyes to see father and son exchanging very impressed looks. "How did I do?"

"Three bullseyes, five first ring, two second ring," said Yasunori. "That's better than any ten I've ever done in a row. How did you do that?"

"Something my father taught me," answered Harry, trying to keep emotion out of his voice. "He said that you'll mess yourself up by thinking too much. The best thing to do is not think about it, just trust your body and your... unconscious, I guess, to do what you know it can do."

"Well," said Sato slowly, "we do not have this concept, but it is hard to argue with the results we just saw. Do they teach this at Hogwarts?"

Harry shook his head. "No. Just my father." He again fought back a wave of emotion. "At Hogwarts, we didn't do any kind of target practice at all, we just focused on learning spells. Also, there wasn't particular practice for doing spells from this kind of distance."

"In that case, I'm surprised you did this so well," said Yasunori.

Harry chuckled darkly. "Real-life practice. But maybe Hogwarts should teach this."

"Well, Harry-san, keep in mind that Yasunori is attending a special three-year school that focuses on advanced magical and tactical training. At this school, those who are at the top of the class are considered for Auror training. We have a school, which Yasunori just recently finished, that is the equivalent of Hogwarts."

"Are you going to try to become an Auror?" asked Harry.

"I would like to," replied Yasunori. "But it's quite difficult. Only the top ten percent are even considered. But the school's whole purpose is not to make Aurors. The summer session is tactical, but the rest of the year is devoted to other magical disciplines. How about you? What job do you want to get?"

Harry almost chuckled. The most prestigious job in England is waiting for me, I just don't want it. "I haven't decided. A... a lot of stuff has happened recently, and I just need to let some time pass. I have a feeling the answer will come to me." He looked at Sato and his son, and added, "I suppose that's not the kind of thing a Japanese would say. There would be a career plan, a specific path and goal, and it would be approved by an elder. Am I right?"

"Exactly," agreed Sato. "But perhaps 'approved' is too strong a word. 'Advised' would be more appropriate."

"But is it the case that 'advised' is the euphemism for 'approved?'"

Sato gave him a small smile. "Sometimes, no. Sometimes, yes."

Harry smiled. He'd heard Asians described as 'inscrutable' before, but hadn't understood why. Now, he felt he knew.

* * * * *

Dinner was a quiet affair, with somewhat less conversation than Harry was sure happened when any six English people sat at a table together. Most surprising was that nobody seemed to interrupt anyone else. Once Harry interrupted Sawako, and quickly apologized; he was careful not to do it again, but it was hard to change one's habits.

He learned more about the family. Sawako's hobbies were horticulture and calligraphy; she had taken an advanced course in the use of magic to aid in the growing of various plants. Masako was attending a three-year school which seemed to be the equivalent of a finishing school; the emphasis was on home economics. Realizing that he'd seen few women at the Ministry, he asked about what women did in Japanese society; Sawako explained that there were rather few 'career women,' and the few that existed were seen uncharitably. The married ones were seen as neglecting their husbands, and the single ones were thought unable to get husbands. Pretty conservative, thought Harry, but he knew not to expect anything else from this society. He spent a little time telling them about what career women did in England, much to Sawako and Masako's interest. Maeko, however, clearly if understatedly disdained such an idea. "Who takes care of their husbands?" she asked. Harry explained that plenty of husbands could take care of themselves, and that in fact, England's Minister of Magic was a bachelor who could cook quite well. Before his mother could respond, Sato intervened with a mild comment about how each system worked well for each country; Harry wondered if it was common that if a dispute seemed in the offing, a third party tried to derail the discussion.

After dinner, Yasunori and Masako retired to their rooms to study. Harry talked with Sato a little more about Japanese culture, and Sato asked Harry about joining Yasunori's class. Harry had decided to do it; after all, what was he going to do during the day anyway? He agreed, but asked Sato if he would personally teach him about some basics of Japanese magic; Sato cheerfully agreed, and they talked about it for the next hour. Before bed, Sato showed Harry some of the English-language books in the study, and gave some recommendations. Harry took a few, said goodnight, and went to his bedroom. He read a little, but didn't take long to fall asleep.

* * * * *

In his dream, he was visiting his parents.

He didn't know where he lived, or why he couldn't spend much more time with them. But in the dream, it seemed to make sense.

They had been on a picnic, they had had a big dinner together, they had stayed up late talking. Other people were unimportant, peripheral characters in the dream. Just him and his parents.

But as so often happened in dreams, the time was over, and he had to go back to wherever he'd come from; he had to part from them. He hugged his mother and tried not to cry, saying he didn't want to go. His father patted him on the back and said, "I'm sorry we have to go. We weren't supposed to come this time, but we had to see you one more time. Just remember the time we had."

His father hugged him. Harry clung desperately, intending never to let go, so he wouldn't have to say goodbye. But his parents become insubstantial, and he was hugging thin air. He woke up, and his first thought was to hold back the tears as the last six words his father had spoken echoed in his head.

The day was a slow one for Harry, which suited him fine. Sato and his two children were at work and school; Sawako and Maeko kept busy around the house, several times solicitously asking Harry if he was all right or offering him something to eat or drink. Sawako explained what kind of food Japanese ate, and asked Harry about English food. He read the books Sato had recommended the night before, walked around the backyard looking at everything, and had a go at meditating in the special room. It didn't work too well, however, as thoughts of his parents kept intruding whenever he tried to clear his mind. In general, though, his surroundings were sufficiently new and different that they kept his mind off of what he didn't want to think about. Just remember the time we had, his father had said. He wanted to, but it was too painful.

At about four o'clock, he heard the shout of 'I'm home' come from Masako, then an hour later from Yasunori. Interesting custom, he thought. You definitely always know who's home this way. Harry stayed in his room reading, though, not wanting to bother them, or make them feel they had to pay attention to the guest.

Sato came home a little after six, and dinner was ready by 6:45. Harry wondered if dinner was chosen with him in mind: it was, he was told, called shabu-shabu, a dish in which thin slices of beef were cooked by dipping them into a small pot of boiling water at the table and lightly seasoned with a soy sauce-based mixture, eaten with rice and vegetables. He found it quite good, and asked about how often Japanese ate such dishes, especially those with beef. To the surprise of everyone but Sato, he related that some Westerners were vegetarians, and was told that almost no Japanese were. "If people were strict about it, it might cause problems for others, such as those who ate with them, or cooked for them," pointed out Maeko. Harry thought, but didn't say, that it seemed very typically Japanese to worry about how the different actions of one person affected the others, even if the effect on them was less than the effect on himself.

"Oh, Harry-san," said Sato near the end of the meal, "on Sunday, three days from today, our family will be attending a service for my late father."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," said Harry, hoping he hadn't joined the family at a bad time. "When did he pass away?"

"Sunday will be the third anniversary of his passing." To Harry's confused expression, Sato went on, "Yes, you do not really have this custom. When someone in the family passes away, it is our custom to make such a visit to their gravesite every year on the anniversary, for the first ten years after their death. After that, we go every five years. We wish you could accompany us, but unfortunately, it is considered inappropriate for anyone but family to attend."

Ah, I see, he's apologizing for leaving me behind. "Of course, I understand. Thanks for letting me know about it; I'm sure I can keep myself busy. But I'm wondering, you said you used the shrine in the living room to talk to your ancestors' spirits. Is visiting the gravesite a different thing?"

"Yes, it is," said Sato. "We visit the gravesite specifically to show respect for his memory, not to talk to his spirit. The shrine in the living room is there so that we can talk to his spirit, and those of our ancestors."

"Now, when you say, talk to their spirits," asked Harry, trying to be careful not to accidentally say anything offensive, "do you mean, just talk, or do you mean, have a conversation?"

"The latter. When I use the word 'spirit,' I mean what you might call a 'ghost.' If we summon them respectfully, they may appear, and we can talk to them, or ask them a question. Our society considers this a valuable resource, so that we can draw on the wisdom of the elders."

The last four words sounded to Harry like a slightly pompous phrase; except for Dumbledore, he hadn't met that many older or dead people who he considered to have any wisdom. He wondered if Sato really believed that, or if he was reciting the standard Japanese attitude about such things.

"Interesting," he said. "But this only works if they decided to stay around as ghosts, right? Or can you talk to them even if they've already gone on, to the next place?"

"Ah, yes," said Sato, nodding. "Westerners are always surprised to hear what I am about to tell you. Everyone who passes away in Japan remains behind as a ghost."

Harry's eyes went wide. "Every single person?"

"Yes. They stay for three generations. When the last of their great-grandchildren has passed on, they move on to what awaits beyond this life."

"But... a friend recently came back as a ghost, and he said that it was hard to come back as a ghost, that it was much easier to just move on. How is it that everyone resists that urge, and comes back as a ghost?"

"We are taught that it is part of our generational responsibility. If someone should pass on before reaching twenty, the age of adulthood, they are expected to move on. If it is between twenty and forty, and the deceased had no children, then it is up to them. But in other cases, we are expected to stay."

Sawako entered the conversation. "It is not unheard of for someone who is expected to stay to move on, but that usually happens only if the person had severe emotional problems, or was clearly unsuited to help others on the physical plane. In your country, people do not stay?"

Harry explained what he'd been told about ghosts, concluding with, "So, from what I've heard, staying as a ghost isn't exactly a good thing; it means you had some problem. So, I was surprised at what you told me."

Sato nodded. "I understand. But I was told by some Americans who had lost their relatives, or someone close to them, that they wished that the deceased were still around, even if it was as ghosts."

Harry wondered if Sato would have asked him if he wished for that, if Sato weren't trying to stay away from such topics. "But isn't staying around as a ghost kind of unpleasant, or depressing?"

"I believe they do not find it so," said Sato. "But I will admit that I have never asked that particular question. It would seem... inappropriate."

Lots of things in this country are inappropriate, thought Harry. "Well, it's interesting. How often do you talk to them?"

"At least once a year, to all ancestors in our family's direct line."

"But I don't know what you'd... I mean, from what I've heard, there are pretty specific ways you're supposed to act in various situations. Respecting anyone older than you, doing things a particular way, like that... so, it seems like you wouldn't need to ask too much. So, when you summon them, is there really anything to ask them about?"

Sato and his wife exchanged a look; it might have been one of discomfort, but Harry wasn't sure. "There is usually something to talk about," said Sato. "We want our elders to know that their advice is valued."

Strange answer, thought Harry. Kind of vague, and... oh, yeah, he already mentioned this. Non-responsive answer, then a comment that's kind of off the topic... he said that's what they do when they get an uncomfortable question. Maybe some people do think there's nothing to talk about.

Yasunori spoke up. "And there's the Festival of the Departed. That's always nice."

Sato looked at his son, as if expecting him to continue with an explanation, but Yasunori didn't, so Sato did. "It's our second biggest holiday of the year, after the New Year's celebration. Western countries have no equivalent. The whole purpose is to celebrate and honor those who have gone before us. There are dances, performances, great decorations, and the honored ancestors participate, every single one. I do not know the number, but I'm sure it's upwards of 50,000. It is quite a sight."

"What do the ghosts do?" asked Harry, intrigued.

"It is something different every year," said Sato. "I have seen many remarkable displays. For example, one year, the spirits flew in thickly concentrated groups, forming amazing images in the air. Fifty thousand spirits, forming the image of a tree or a chrysanthemum, or forming a message in Chinese characters, each character twenty meters tall."

"We never cease to strive for strength of character," recited Sawako.

"That was the message they spelled out," explained Sato. "That was, I believe, ten years ago."

"Eight," his son corrected him. "I remember that I was ten. Those were some of the Chinese characters I was learning at the time, so I remember it pretty well." Harry felt the message was a little bland and overly moralistic, but decided to keep the observation to himself.

"In fact," said Sato, "I believe now would be a good time to call on them. Let's adjourn to the living room."

Everyone stood; Sawako started to clear the table. "Oh, don't bother," said Maeko. "You go with them, I'll take care of this." Sawako bowed and thanked her mother-in-law, and they went to the living room. Sawako pointed her wand at the wall that Yasunori had been standing next to when doing target practice; a closet opened, and she took out five wide, thick, square cushions, and placed them on the floor. One was directly in front of the shrine; the other four were behind it in two rows of two. Harry was gestured to the one on the left behind Sato, who took the front cushion. Sawako was beside Harry, and the children behind him. "You should sit like this," said Sawako, gesturing to herself as an example. He tried to do as she was doing--the front of his lower legs flat against the cushion, knees forward, all pressure from his body on the lower legs. It was very awkward, but he managed. I won't be able to keep this up for long, he thought. My legs'll fall asleep.

She smiled a little as she seemed to read his mind. "This style is called 'seiza,' and I would guess there is no equivalent in English. Even some Japanese have trouble with it, for long periods of time. Just do your best, and if you have to change position, go ahead and do so." He nodded and caught an amused glance from Yasunori behind and to his right; Yasunori seemed to be saying without words that he would not be permitted to change position no matter how uncomfortable it became.

Sato opened a drawer under the shrine and pulled out two long, thin sticks and placed them into holders on either side of the shrine pointed toward each other at forty-five degree angles, so the sticks formed a cross, like a large X. He then used his wands to light the end of each; an odd smell soon emanated from the sticks. Ah, incense, Harry thought. He'd heard of it, but never seen it.

Sato then pointed his wand at the shrine and spoke a few words in a low chant; Harry's device didn't translate it. More normally, but still in a ceremonial style, he went on, "Great-grandfather Takehiko-sama, your great-grandson Kenichi humbly requests your presence and guidance." A green beam was now coming from Sato's wand, still pointed at the shrine.

A few seconds later, a ghost appeared, seeming to travel through the shrine, and hovered in front of Sato, who bowed deeply, followed by the other Satos, and finally, belatedly, Harry. "Following the Links of Antiquity, your great-grandfather appears in answer to your call," intoned the ghost. Harry felt that the phrase must be a standard, ceremonial one, based on how the ghost said it. Harry got the sense of self-importance, but wondered if it was just due to cultural differences.

"Our deepest appreciation greets your presence," said Sato, bowing again. "I would like to introduce to you a new arrival to our humble home. His name is Harry Potter, and he visits us from England." The ghost bowed slightly; Harry did the same. The ghost looked at him suspiciously; Harry wondered if he was supposed to bow lower, but decided not to do it again.

Sato turned to Harry. "Our custom is to ask the spirits of the honored ancestors about matters which concern us greatly, matters which have been on our mind and we perhaps have difficulty resolving. If you would like to ask a question of the honored ancestor, you should feel free to do so."

Harry nodded his acknowledgment. Sato had laid out rather specifically the type of question he should ask, and therefore, what he should not ask. Okay, well, I'll give it a try, he thought. Taking a moment to think, thinking about Death Eaters--especially the one who had spat at McGonagall--he asked, "Do you think we should try to take revenge on those who have seriously wronged us?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sawako give him a slightly surprised look, but only for a second. The ghost himself seemed taken aback, as if unprepared to answer such a question. After a small hesitation, he answered, "All things in moderation," with an emphatic tone that seemed to Harry to belie the fact that he had not come close to answering the question.

Harry decided to have another go at it. "Can there ever be any justification for oppressing or dominating another group or race of beings?" He was now thinking both of the goblins and house-elves.

The ghost made eye contact with him for a few seconds, as if trying to judge his sincerity. Finally, the response came. "Every situation is different." Harry nodded, waiting for the rest of the answer, but the ghost stopped speaking, and it was apparent that what had been said was the whole answer. Wow, thought Harry, that was spectacularly unhelpful. This may be useless, but it still could be a cultural-misunderstanding type of situation. I'll give it one more try.

"In a situation where you have to choose between saving your immediate family from danger, or sacrifice them in order to save your society, which do you think is the best thing to do?"

He saw Sawako's look of surprise; even Sato turned for a second to look at him. The ghost seemed to pause to make sure he'd heard correctly, then regarded Harry with disdain. "Perhaps you have been given an incorrect impression, but I am not some oracle to attempt to befuddle with hypothetical ethical postulates. My purpose is to give guidance relevant to people's lives, not answer trick questions. I will now take my leave." The ghost flew back through the shrine, and was gone.

Harry was embarrassed that the Satos were all looking at him, and angry with the ghost for dismissing his questions. Trying to control his feelings, he said to Sato, "He may not believe it, but I did ask questions according to what you said." He sighed, and decided to leave; with a little effort to get out of the uncomfortable sitting position, he stood. "Excuse me." He was halfway out of the room when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Now, now, my lad, you're not getting out of here that easily," the voice said haughtily. Harry whirled around to see Fred looking down at him imperiously, hovering a foot off the ground, with a sly grin.

"Fred!" Harry exclaimed, grinning broadly. "What are you doing here?"

"You were thinking about me, and I heard it. This thing," Fred gestured to the shrine, "seems to be a bit of a ghostly amplifier when it's activated. So, I see you've decided to impose on these very nice people. Downright rude, if you ask me. You need to leave them be, and do your imposing on those who know how to deal with you!"

Harry laughed. He was aware of the Satos gawking at the highly unexpected turn of events, but he didn't care. "I know, Fred. I appreciate it. How's everyone back there?"

Fred shrugged. "Okay, I guess. The shop's starting to do better. That is what you meant, right?"

Harry laughed again. "Yes, that's what I meant. I'm glad the shop's doing well. How are the customers taking to you?"

"Not bad, I've only scared a few of them off. George and I had words about it--he seems to think my loyalty to the bottom line's in question, since I can't enjoy the worldly benefits anymore--but if you ask me, anyone who can't handle a ghost trying to help them has no business in a shop like that in the first place! I mean, am I right?"

"You're absolutely right, Fred," grinned Harry. "Tell George I said so."

"Right, then! That settles it. So, Harry, what brought you here?"

"Fate, and the good people at British Airways," Harry said jokingly, enjoying the opportunity to do so. "It's a very interesting country. Very, very different from ours. For example, I think that what you're doing right now would be considered very inappropriate."

Fred gave him a disdainful wave of the hand. "Appropriateness isn't what it's cracked up to be. C'mon, Harry. Even when I was alive, was I ever appropriate?"

"No. And I wouldn't have you any other way."

"Exactly."

"But I bet your mother would."

Fred smiled. "Well, of course, what mother wouldn't. So, no chance we can get them to deport you?"

His smile fading, Harry shook his head. "Sorry. I appreciate the sentiment, but... I just need to be away from there."

"You mean, away from His Highness?"

Harry didn't understand for a second, then realized the 'king' reference. "Not him particularly, though he's obviously not my favorite person right now. No, just everything. I just... it was all too much, you know? I just feel like it never would have stopped. It would have been that, then another thing... I can't even tell you what the last thing was, but--"

"He told us."

Harry's eyebrows went high. "Wow. I didn't think he would."

"Well, Dumbledore insisted. We were all, oh, what's the word... furious, yeah, that's it. I thought Ron was going to haul off and slug him. He really had a few choice words for him. I mean, he may be the Minister, but that doesn't mean he gets to do anything he wants. He was way out of line."

Harry felt a surge of emotion, appreciating Ron's ire on his behalf. "Yeah. Well... it was bad. It still is, which is part of the reason I don't want to go back. It's like, your mind overloads at a certain point. I appreciate your visiting, though you probably shouldn't do it in this way anymore." He gestured to the shrine.

"Hey, we're not finished yet. You didn't get answers to your three questions." Harry had almost forgotten what he'd asked. Fred struck a pompous pose. "About revenge: the answer is yes. Quick, brutal, and decisive. Make them regret doing whatever they did." Again, Harry laughed out loud.

"The second, about domination. The answer is yes. The house-elves are begging to be dominated, and the goblins... well, they're begging for a thrashing. No one's seen one since you were rescued, but I wouldn't give a Knut for their chances, after what they did to you. Which gets us back to the first question. Revenge. You better believe it. Every last person in England wants revenge on your behalf.

"The last one..." Fred's expression became uncharacteristically serious. "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."

Overcome with emotion, Harry fought to hold back tears. "Thank you. Tell them... I love them, and I miss them." I couldn't say that to their faces, he thought, but I can say it like this.

Fred smiled sadly. "Harry, they'll never believe you really said that."

"You mean, with your reputation for honesty?"

"Exactly my point."

Still emotional, Harry smiled a little. "To prove I said it, tell Hermione... I forgive her, for my wand. And Ron, I forgive him for the letter."

"No hint as to what this means?"

Harry shook his head. "Sorry. They'll know. And... thanks."

Fred shrugged theatrically. "What are ghosts for? Don't worry, they'll get the message. And if you want to talk to me again, you know what to do." Fred made a deep bow, turned, zoomed through the shrine, and was gone.

In the silence, Harry turned to the stunned Satos. "Sorry about that. I think he won't do it again. But... it did me a lot of good. Excuse me." Harry walked out and to his bedroom, with a lot to think about.

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 15, Dueling: On Harry's first day as a visiting student, he is insulted by an older student, and causes a 'social earthquake' when he's unable to resist when a chance for revenge comes along.

From Chapter 15: "Get an older student angry, they'll harass you, and your friends can't help you. You just have to take it."

Harry sighed. "Well, I may not be here long, then, because I'm not taking anything from older students. I can defend myself pretty well, and if they come after me, I'm not going to just lie down."

"Harry... sometimes, that's just what you have to do."

"No, it's what you have to do. I don't have to."