Harry Potter and the Antiquity Link

semprini

Story Summary:
The morning after his defeat of Voldemort, Harry awakens feeling disturbed and uneasy, but not knowing why. Wanting nothing more than to stay at Grimmauld Place and be left alone, he finds himself unable to get what he needs. Angry goblins, unleashed dementors, well-meaning friends, and a debt to Narcissa Malfoy demand a reluctant Harry's time and attention. Resisting praise, expectations, and offers of employment, he is finally drawn into a trial that rivals the most difficult ones he has ever faced.

Chapter 18 - The Festival of the Departed

Chapter Summary:
Harry and his host family attend the biggest festival of the year, but Harry finds that the hints of a rebellion by some of the ghosts are more substantial than he had thought.
Posted:
06/25/2008
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2,458


Chapter 18

The Festival of the Departed

"Did I ever tell you guys how much I hate the humidity?"

The next day, Harry and the three Y's were outside on the practice field, twenty meters from any other group, practicing group spells. There had now been, Harry guessed, a month and a half straight of ninety-degree temperatures combined with high humidity. He had never experienced anywhere near that kind of humidity in England outside of a shower.

Yosuke seemed to be picking up the knack of deadpan humor. "No, Harry, you haven't. Could you tell us?"

Harry knew, of course, that he had mentioned at least a few dozen times. "Well, if you insist, I could..."

Yusuke had long since learned how to tell when Harry was serious and when he wasn't. "You have to gaman!" he encouraged Harry, feigning great seriousness.

Harry chuckled. "I'll try. Maybe if I could not be bothered by the humidity, then I would also be able to do the group spells."

"All part of being Japanese," said Yosuke. "Hey, maybe that's it! Maybe you have to be Japanese to do the group spells! It would explain a lot..."

"Yeah, it would, actually," agreed Harry.

An idea suddenly came to him; in his head, he heard Kaz saying that he thought the participants had to be on the same wavelength. What if you don't have to be Japanese, but...

They took a break, and Summoned bottles of water; fortunately, gaman didn't extend to deliberately becoming dehydrated to prove one's mettle. "So," said Harry, "the whole country comes to the o-bon festival?" He had learned not to use 'wizarding' to clarify his comments, as the Japanese wizards tended to speak as if the Muggle population didn't exist.

"Not every single person, but probably about 99%," suggested Yasunori. "Of able-bodied people, that is. It would be very strange not to come, since everyone does."

"If you don't come, do you have to apologize?" Harry deadpanned.

Yasunori answered as if it were a serious question, even though Harry was sure Yasunori knew he was joking. "No, but it would be... anti-social, I suppose I would say. People would ask whether you were all right; they'd just assume you were very sick."

"What if you said, 'I just thought I'd give it a miss this year?'"

"Then they'd know that you were a foreigner," said a grinning Yosuke.

"Seriously," said Yasunori, "they'd say you were being selfish."

"Selfish?" repeated Harry in surprise. "What's selfish about that?"

Yasunori looked at Harry tolerantly as Harry took a drink. "We've had this conversation before, Harry. About how your meaning of the word 'selfish' is different from ours."

"Oh, yeah," said Harry, remembering. "Ours is that you do something for yourself that hurts others, while yours is that you do something for yourself that is different from what most people do, even if it doesn't hurt anyone."

"And as my father explained to you, they're really the same because they both involve breaking social norms, and your social norms are just different from ours."

"Yeah, well... I get the point, but it still seems really different. I'm not sure I agree with him."

"You didn't argue with him," pointed out Yasunori.

Harry shrugged. "I didn't want to argue with a respected older person," he half-joked, using the translation his device gave him for a common Japanese phrase.

"Yeah, right," retorted Yasunori. "You argue with him pretty often. It's just when obaa-san says anything that you shut up."

"Well, I may be foreign, but I'm not stupid."

"And yet, you can't do the group spells," joked Yosuke. "Guaranteeing that our group will go down to ignominious defeat in the tournament."

Harry wasn't happy that he hadn't managed it, but was glad that they could joke about it, at least. He knew that they probably took it more seriously than they let on, and joked about it for his sake. "How will you ever live with the shame."

"What do you mean, 'we?' It'll be your shame, not ours," said Yosuke.

"I thought the shame of one was the shame of the group," said Harry.

Yosuke let slip a small grin. "Since you're foreign, we'll make an exception in your case."

Harry chuckled. "I appreciate that. But actually, I want to try something. When we resume, I want to try the test spell, the visual effect one."

They nodded their assent, and there was silence for a few minutes before they began practice again. Harry concentrated on trying to summon the same mental feeling as he imagine Japanese had. I am a member of the group, he thought. I have to be in harmony with the others...

He tried especially hard to be in this frame of mind when casting the spell, and after ten minutes of effort, he noticed that his spell's pattern, usually straight, was starting to take on a hint of the corkscrew pattern that he'd seen in almost all Japanese group spells. Encouraged, he tried harder. He imagined himself as Japanese, he respected the elders, he knew his place in society...

Suddenly one of his spells came tantalizingly close to their pattern; his corkscrew pattern was about a third longer and straighter than theirs. With a burst of intuition, he suddenly realized why it was a corkscrew and not straight: if one pattern was close enough to the others, it could be influenced by the others to 'fall in,' to adopt the same pattern. Just like Japanese society: you had to adapt and adjust yourself to be like the others; the corkscrew was to encourage it, and to give it time to happen. Fascinating, he thought. Just like the language, the magic also reflects the culture.

"Shouldn't we try something else for a while?" asked Yosuke.

"No!" exclaimed Harry, more strongly than he meant to. "Let's keep at this for a while."

The three Y's exchanged glances, and they wordlessly continued the practice; once again, as always, the three spells combined for a large effect, and Harry's produced a separate, slightly smaller effect. Harry found he had to take a few minutes to get back into the right frame of mind, but soon he was there again. He shot off a spell that wasn't as tight a corkscrew as theirs, but as if in slow motion, he saw it fall in with the others', and felt as if he'd thrown a Quidditch Quaffle through a hoop from midfield. He silently exulted as one very large burst of light exploded fifteen feet in front of them.

Stunned, the three stared at him. In his peripheral vision, he saw that some people from other groups had noticed, and were pointing. He looked back at them but said nothing, wondering if they understood his gratitude for their support and patience.

"This... will certainly help our chances in the tournament," said Yosuke.

Yasunori smiled and nodded. "Let's do this one a few more times, then go on to other spells." A similar burst of light was produced by the next spell. This school is going to be a lot more enjoyable from now on, he thought. He realized that for the past ten minutes, even though he was almost drenched in sweat, he hadn't noticed the heat or humidity.

* * * * *

It took Harry fifteen minutes to put on his Japanese formal wear. It seemed like a long time to take to get dressed, but then he remembered that Masako's grandmother had been helping her put on her kimono for almost two hours. He walked out into the living room to join Sato and Yasunori.

Yasunori looked impressed. "Nice."

"You look very good in that," agreed Sato. "There is often something a bit peculiar in seeing a Westerner in Japanese formal clothes, but you pull it off rather well."

"Thanks," said Harry. "Maybe it's because I have dark hair, but if someone with red or blond hair wore it, it would look more strange."

"Quite possible," said Sato. "By the way, congratulations on your victory today. Yasunori tells me that you will be in the finals tomorrow, and that your group will very likely win."

"Thanks. Yes, it does look that way. I was just happy that I was able to get the group spell going. It's always satisfying when you try to do a spell for a long time, then finally you get it. Probably this one more than any other, because the way it's done is so unique. It was like learning a whole new way of doing magic." Never could have learned it if I couldn't see spells, he added to himself.

"So, you believe the key to doing it is that you have to think like a Japanese?"

Harry thought for a minute. "I think that's the key to doing group spells as they're done in Japan, anyway. Theoretically, they could be done in other countries, in which case the way of doing them would be different. I think the key thing is that you have to be in sync with the other members of the group, and in Japan, you get in sync with that by feeling Japanese."

"It must have been a strange feeling for you," mused Sato.

"It is," agreed Harry. "But at least I understand it, even if I couldn't live my life like that. But a week or two after I got here, when I first started trying this spell, even if someone had told me exactly what to do, I couldn't have done it. Understanding Japanese culture, feelings, and attitudes is really the first step to doing this kind of spell."

"It may be," said Sato, "that similar types of spells are possible in other countries, but with different patterns or types of thinking."

"An interesting thought. It certainly sounds possible."

"So, Harry, I'm curious," said Yasunori. "Understanding the culture like you do, do you think you could be happy spending the rest of your life here, for example, getting married, having a family, like that?"

Sato looked at his son sternly. "Yasunori, we shouldn't be putting any pressure on him to do anything."

"I only meant, theoretically," protested Yasunori. "Would it be possible. I wasn't thinking it was really going to happen."

"It's an interesting question," said Harry. "It would be hard if only because I wasn't born here, don't have a family. But I get the point of your question: culturally, is it something I could get used to."

He thought for a minute. "Honestly, and I don't mean any offense, but I'm not sure I could. I can pretty much be myself with the three Y's, and in this house, which is good. In dealing with other people socially, it would be difficult, like in a job, that kind of thing. But I think the hardest thing would be the idea that people aren't being straight with you, you wouldn't know what they were really thinking. Yes, I know, in England we aren't 100% straight with each other, but you know what I mean. I can see how you could get used to this if you were born into it. But to get used to something else, then this... there's a lot more freedom in England, and it's hard to voluntarily limit your freedom. I'd think it'd be much easier the other way around, for Japanese to get used to living in Western countries."

"Indeed it is," agreed Sato. "This is the problem, of course, with allowing Japanese wizards to live overseas. What happened to Harada is unfortunately not unheard of, though we try to prevent it. The key aspect is the presence of a good family life, I believe. We tell people who go over that if they find Western life appealing, the best way to deal with it is to in essence create another personality. The Western version of yourself, as it were. When you deal with foreigners, you have one persona. When dealing with Japanese, the one you were born with. But the one you were born with must be positive, strong, solid: it must be something you want to return to. In the case of Harada, because of his poor family life, he did not have enough incentive to return to it, and the 'foreign' personality took over, partly as a rebellion against his father. But yes, Harry, you are quite right. It is far easier to go from less freedom to more than the other way around."

"But what about the benefits of Japanese society, compared to Western?" asked Yasunori.

"A good point," said Sato. "But I believe that it all comes down to the family. If you don't have family, you don't have anything."

Harry couldn't help but nod his head at the truth of that. Seeing Harry's face, Sato immediately reacted with the understanding that he'd made a mistake. "I'm very sorry, I didn't mean what that sounded like."

"No, you were right. And I know. But I have an adopted family, at least. That's something."

There was an uncomfortable silence, so Harry spoke again. "But that makes me think of something. You said you worried about Kaz being your fault, but nobody knew his real situation. And maybe that guy at the Culture Ministry, Uchida-san, wanted to call him back, but he didn't know the real situation either. Couldn't it be the case that he was imagining it when he saw something that made him want to pull Kaz back? Maybe it was just by chance that he was right, and what he was doing at the time was just covering his ass."

Yasunori burst into laughter, which he tried to suppress with limited success. "You might want to avoid using that phrase, Harry-san," advised Sato evenly, with subtle disapproval. "Even in English, the phrase is somewhat on the rough side."

Harry was mildly embarrassed, even though he knew that using that phrase at a Weasley family dinner would elicit no more than a possible warning glance from Molly. "Sorry. I get into the habit of using phrases like that that are best for the situation, knowing that they probably won't be rough when they get translated."

"Usually, that is true," acknowledged Sato. "But in this case, it simply got rougher. It just so happens that the equivalent Japanese phrase could be literally translated into English as, 'protect one's crotch.'"

Now Harry laughed. "Ah, I see. I'll keep that in mind."

"At least the ladies were not present. But as to--"

Sato cut himself off as, as if on cue, Masako emerged from her bedroom, her grandmother four steps behind her. Masako's kimono was a light but vivid green, with a few large, stylized cranes as the main design, with cherry blossom branches in the background. Her hair was up, and makeup had been applied, subtly and tastefully; she almost looked like a different person than Harry had ever seen. "Wow," he exclaimed. With a slight smile, she bowed; he thought a bit of red had crept into her cheeks, but with the makeup, it was hard to tell.

Yasunori chuckled. "That's the Western way, just blurt it right out," he joked. "But yes, she does look very good."

"Quite beautiful," agreed Sato. "Obaa-san has done very well."

"I had good material," said Sato's mother proudly, "which makes it easier." Harry noticed that the grandmother herself was already wearing a kimono.

It was a quarter after five, and Harry realized that they would probably be leaving soon. "What about dinner?" he wondered.

"One always eats at the festival," Sato explained. "There are plenty of vendors selling regional delicacies."

"Couldn't you get regional food in Tokyo anyway?" asked Harry. "It's not as though transportation is a problem."

"It is just a custom," said Sato. "Even if a food could be sold profitably all over Japan, the area that makes it usually prefers to sell it there only, so it will be considered special, and so people will have a reason to visit. This festival is the only way to get, say, Hokkaido and Okinawa specialties without actually traveling there. Being more accustomed to the profit motive, Americans to whom I explained this thought it quaint and peculiar. But it is a custom I would dislike losing. If you visit a region, you always bring back local food as a souvenir."

"Being rare, we feel, makes something special," added Sato's mother. "Like Masako-chan in a kimono."

Harry was about to agree when Sato's wife came in, also dressed in a kimono, holding a camera. "Well, we are almost ready. Everyone in front of the shrine."

As the Satos moved toward the shrine, Harry guessed that formal pictures were usually taken there, so as to symbolically emphasize the presence of the ancestors. Noticing that Harry hadn't moved, Yasunori said, "Harry, come on."

Harry hadn't wanted to assume he was welcome in a family picture. "Are you sure?"

"Of course," added Sato. "You have been with us for almost three months now. Even if you were to leave tomorrow, we would still want you in the picture."

"It's very kind of you," said Harry, using one of the Japanese phrases he was familiar with.

Two pictures were taken, both with the women in front, and the men behind them, youngest on the left to oldest on the right. Sato operated the camera from a distance magically, so no photographer was necessary. It felt odd for him to be in a family picture; he then realized he never had before. The Dursleys had always excluded him from such pictures, and the Weasleys had never taken one with him around. I should ask them to do that sometime, he thought.

He suddenly remembered, from the 'other reality,' a family picture of him with his parents and Sirius. I would love to have that picture, he thought. The thought of his parents from that reality made him feel melancholy, not acutely sad as it had when he arrived in Japan. That, he supposed, was something.

* * * * *

Letting go of the temporary two-way Portkey, Harry looked out over a scene that dwarfed even the Quidditch World Cup, previously the largest gathering of wizards he'd even witnessed. The area's geography consisted of gently sloping low hills leading on almost all sides to a large, roughly circular valley, which had to be a half a mile in diameter. Thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of people were already there, in the valley. The Portkey station was a kilometer away from the valley, necessitating an easy, ten-minute walk down the hill to get to the festival.

"Beautiful, isn't it," breathed Sawako.

"It certainly is," agreed her husband. To Harry, he added, "One year, we just stood here for half an hour, watching, before we headed down. It is considered one of the artistic touches of this place that the Portkey stations are all situated in the foothills, so one can appreciate the scene from a distance before entering. Having a Portkey station in the middle of the festival grounds would be more efficient, but would take away the beauty of this view."

Harry nodded. "I can really appreciate that. Amazing, it looks like a city down there, and not a small one. Is this place really empty the rest of the year?"

"Yes, it is," said Sato. "We keep it for this."

"That string of lights, that pattern, whatever you call it, that goes from one end to the other... it kind of looks like the shape of Japan. Is that deliberate?"

Sawako answered. "Yes. The stands, selling food, general goods, and souvenirs, are situated according to their area of origin in Japan. The ones at that end are from Okinawa and Kyushu, and at the other end, from Tohoku and Hokkaido. So if you want food or goods from a particular area of Japan, it is easy to know where to go. Just follow the map."

"Very clever," said Harry, still taking it all in. "So, where are the ghosts?"

"They will not appear for another hour or so," said Sato. "They usually make a rather dramatic entrance. By the way, just so you know... the behavior of some people may be a bit less... restrained than usual. Drinking is common at this festival; it is the only place and time, in fact, when public drinking is allowed in Japan. So, you may see behavior that you don't usually see in Japan." Harry saw a distinctly unhappy look on Maeko's face.

Interesting, he thought. "Like what?"

"Public singing," answered Sawako. "People telling long, rambling stories of which one can tell at least half is fiction. Once, I saw a man kiss his wife!"

Harry paused, sure there was more to the story. "And...?"

She stared at him in surprise. "Is there public kissing in your country?"

"Sure. I mean, not tons of it, but it happens. What's wrong with that?" Sawako's expression answered for her. "Well, I mean, was this some kind of major production, or..."

Smiling, Sato explained, "By Western standards, it was a chaste kiss--"

Sawako interrupted him. "I don't think I want to know what they do in Western countries, in that case."

"But here," continued Sato, "such a thing is considered highly provocative. Culturally, it is not unlike... well, to be honest, I realize that my mother will chastise me if I say too clearly what it is not unlike. Let us just say that it is not unlike activity that if done in your country publicly, would get one arrested."

"I get the picture," said Harry, amused at Sato's reluctance. He was tempted to tell them about all the kissing that went on at Hogwarts, but decided it was too likely to shock them, especially the women. Maybe he would tell the three Y's at school the next day.

After a few more minutes of watching, they headed down, the Satos talking about past festivals. Harry asked why the festival didn't last for two or three days, considering all the trouble that was obviously gone to in order to set this one up. Sato said it had been considered, but it had been only one day for over a thousand years, so people were reluctant to change that. He did point out that it started at noon and ended at six in the morning, so it lasted almost a whole day. The Satos never stayed later than ten because, Sato explained, "The later one stays, the more drunk more people are, and it was never something we wanted our children to see."

"I think we're old enough now, Father," said Yasunori humorously.

"You'll be old enough when you're an adult," said Sato, "at which time you can stay until six if you want to. You'll probably do it only once."

"Does that mean you did, Father?"

"Oh, look, that stand over there is selling fresh crab! It's very time-consuming, you know, to transport them here while they're still alive. No doubt it'll be very expensive." Harry and Yasunori exchanged a grin at Sato's transparent attempt to avoid answering his son's question.

They waded into the crowd, which was not quite as thick as it had been in Muggle Tokyo on early Sunday evening, if only because the area was so much larger. Harry saw more kimonos than he thought he would ever see, all of them so tight that the women could only take relatively short strides, and suddenly wondered about something. He leaned over to Yasunori and whispered, "How do they go to the bathroom in those kimonos?"

Yasunori grinned. "To be honest, I'm not sure. It's not the kind of question I'm allowed to ask. But I'd have to imagine, very carefully." Nodding, Harry thought, maybe I wouldn't really want to know the details anyway.

As they walked along a 'street,' or what seemed like one--there were stands on both sides, and many people walked in between--there was a table set up, and four men were sitting there, drinking beer and eating what appeared to be salted fish on sticks. "Look at that!" exclaimed Maeko, keeping her voice low enough so the men couldn't overhear her. "It's only five-thirty, and they're already drinking! They should at least wait until six, out of common decency."

With the barest smile, Sato responded, "Obaa-san, I seem to recall a few years ago that some people were drinking at six, and you said that they should wait until seven."

Maeko considered this. "You're right. They should wait until seven, not six."

Harry assumed that if they had started at seven, she would say they should have started at eight, and wondered if that had been her son's point. Why does she care when people start drinking, he wondered, Guess older people are just more conservative. Except the ones who are drinking, I suppose.

The stand near them was selling various kinds of food on sticks; Japanese letters on the stand spelled out the word 'otsumami.' He had learned about many kinds of Japanese food, but not this one. He pointed and asked Yasunori, "What does that word mean?"

"Otsumami?" responded Yasunori; surprisingly, his device gave no translation. Harry pointed to his translator and shook his head.

Sato explained. "There is not an English word for it. It more or less refers to salty food that is to be eaten while one drinks alcohol. Often meat, but it can be non-meat food such as nuts. No one word translates it properly."

"That's a good word," said Harry, impressed. "We should have a word for that."

"Better to just not drink," advised Maeko.

"I guess you're not a big fan of drinking, obaa-san," commented Harry.

"You're an observant young man," she replied; with how much humor, he wasn't sure. "It just hurts your body, for no real benefit. You didn't drink when you were in England, did you?"

Harry shook his head. "Too busy fighting Dark wizards. No opportunity."

"Well, you're a brave young man. Take my advice, don't start this habit. You're an important person in your country. Young people will look up to you, and you have to be an example for them. You can be a better example by not teaching them bad habits."

Harry nodded in understanding, saying nothing; he was a little surprised by the force of her words, as she was usually more relaxed when giving opinions at the Satos' dinner table. Of course, Harry realized, the topic of alcohol had never come up at the table, as none of the Satos drank.

Yasunori took Harry aside, ostensibly to show him something at a stall. "Obaa-san's husband, my father's father, died three years ago of an alcohol-related disease," explained Yasunori. "She had always complained that he drank too much, but he wouldn't stop. Now, all you have to do is mention alcohol, and she says that kind of thing."

"Did your father ever drink?"

"Occasionally, he used to, because his father did, and his father liked to drink with him. He told me about it once. It was difficult for him, because his parents had such opposite wishes. After his father died, obaa-san asked him to promise he would never drink again, and asked me to promise that I would never start. Well, obviously, we had no choice but to say yes. A few days later, he took me aside and talked to me about it. He said that while she is alive, accepting her request is a way of showing our respect for her, and the difficulties she had with the topic. But after she is no longer with us, then we should make our own choices. He did say that his father's case showed that there are real dangers of drinking, and even after she passed on, he didn't plan to do it except for very rare occasions."

Harry nodded. It seemed to him that not drinking just because a parent requested it was a lot, but he could understand it in this case. "Is drinking uncommon here? I mean, it's huge in the Japanese Muggle world. There's tons of pubs, lots of liquor stores, and even machines that sell beer."

"No, it's very common. I think our house is unusual. Yusuke's father drinks, and not only do both of Yosuke's parents, but they even let him drink! Don't repeat that, of course. His father thinks it's important to be a 'strong drinker,' because men often drink after hours to promote strong social bonds."

Harry was going to respond, but Sawako called them over, cutting short their conversation. As they hurried to catch up, they passed a group of eight young women, perhaps in their early twenties, all wearing kimonos. Harry had yet to see a woman who wasn't, except for a few of the women who were working at the stands. As he passed them, he saw that most were staring at him. He was well used to it--the only time he wasn't stared at in public was in the Muggle world, where there were many more Westerners--but sometimes couldn't resist pointing it out. He stopped, looked at them, and said 'Good evening' with a short bow. Most of the women giggled; half said 'good evening' in return.

He smiled and rejoined Yasunori, who chided him. "You really shouldn't do that."

"Why not?"

Yasunori rolled his eyes. "You know why not. We don't talk to strangers."

"But it's okay to stare at strangers?"

"It's... understandable."

"Well, I have a lifetime of experience of being stared at, and it may be understandable, but it's still bad behavior. I have no problem at all reminding people that they're doing it."

Yasunori raised his eyebrows a little, but had no comment as they rejoined the family. "Why aren't they with their families, anyway?" asked Harry.

Sawako answered. "It is common for families to break up for predetermined periods of time so individuals can spend time with friends. Those girls are probably school friends who wanted to spend an hour or two together."

For the next hour, they wandered around in no particular pattern, then headed for the southern part of the 'map,' as Sato's father's hometown was there. As they walked, Harry started to see no small number of shrines, almost always with ghosts hovering over them, with a small audience of wizards around each one. "What's that?" asked Harry.

"It is an o-bon custom called 'mukashi-banashi,' or literally, 'telling of old stories,'" explained Sato. "An honored ancestor holds court at a shrine that their descendant brings to the festival, and is listened to not by his descendants, but by strangers. It is a way to circulate stories. Some are stories the ancestor was told by his or her ancestor; some are things that happened in his or her life that the ancestor thinks is good for everyone to know."

Maeko eyed Harry. "Can you guess what mine is going to be about?"

Harry grinned. "Why drinking is a really bad idea?"

She nodded. "Clever young man. I have quite a few stories, mostly involving my late husband."

"I'm wondering, does your late husband now regret that he drank?"

"No, he does not," she responded with annoyance. "Stubborn man. He says, 'it is better to have lived enjoyably and more briefly than longer but without enjoyment.' But I say that if you need alcohol to live enjoyably, then there was something wrong with your life in the first place."

Harry could see both sides, but knew one thing for sure: he would never mention alcohol in obaa-san's presence again.

As eight o'clock approached, the Satos decided to head a short distance into the foothills to enjoy the centerpiece of the festival, the performance art by the spirits of the ancestors. Sato explained that many people watched it from the festival, and there was nothing wrong with that, but it gave a somewhat better view to watch it from a greater distance, because the images were so large.

Sato conjured chairs for everyone; Harry knew he could conjure his own, but let Sato do it to be polite. The first thing they saw was thousands of ghosts floating about three meters off the ground, mostly over the festival area, but to some extent over the surrounding foothills as well. More and more ghosts seemed to join as the minutes went by; the layer of ghosts got thicker and thicker.

Suddenly, the ghosts started to move in a way that made it look from above not as if they were a flat circle, but an orange that had been peeled from the top down, with eight strips. Then the strips shot upward, and Harry was looking at a hundred-meter-tall, brilliant globe.

"Wow," said Harry admiringly.

"Oh, it gets better than this," commented Yasunori, sitting next to him.

After a few seconds, the ball shrank in size to a diameter of ten meters; Harry wondered if it was now a solid--so to speak--mass of ghosts. For the next minute, the ball expanded in, then out, in, and out. Finally, it expanded ever outward, so the ball became as wide as the festival area before getting so thin it almost couldn't be seen. The ghosts then zoomed back to the center and formed a square, then repeated the expanding-contracting cycle. Next it was a flower, then a tree--though the tree didn't expand and contract, but grew and then shriveled, as if to indicate the life cycle of a tree--and finally a bamboo plant. Harry was amazed at the versatility shown, that every spirit seemed to know what to do. He recalled having been told that they practiced a lot, but still, it was very impressive.

What came next was even more surprising. Three groups of three balls of light formed; one group was in front of the Satos, and the other two were facing different directions, so everyone watching could get a good look at at least one group. The balls formed into what appeared to be lanterns, with Chinese characters formed in black--the absence of ghosts to fill the space; ghosts filled all the space except what was necessary to spell out those characters.

"Great," enthused Sawako. "They've done characters before, but never like this. This is more artistic."

"Can someone tell me..." said Harry. He could read the alphabet letters, but not the Chinese characters.

"The first one, on the left, is sonkei," said Yasunori, as Harry's device translated it as 'respect.' "The second is 'ganbaru.' Do your best. "The last one is--one of your favorite words, Harry--"

"Gaman?" he guessed.

"Very good! You can read it!" Harry and Yasunori exchanged a laugh.

The words held their form for more than a minute, then the ghosts started forming a circle and whirling around, spinning fast in a circle with a half-mile diameter. "Oh, the big one is coming," said Sawako.

The large circle went from almost flat to wide and cylindrical, rising and getting thinner as it did. Suddenly, all the spirits dashed to their assigned spot, and in the space of a few seconds, an image had formed of a man's head. It was remarkable; features were clear, even the eyes. The crowd let out a loud cheer, which Sato, his wife, and his mother joined in.

"A face! They've never done that before! Unbelievable!" gushed Sawako.

"Very well done," agreed Maeko.

"Who is that?" asked Harry.

Yasunori leaned over. "His name is Toshihiko Fukui, and he's one of the most famous Japanese wizards of all time, maybe the most famous. He created a lot of new magic, but he's most famous for inventing the spell that makes possible the Antiquity Link. He lived about a thousand years ago."

"Very appropriate that they chose him, for the first time they tried a person's face," agreed Sato. "Harry, for your reference, Merlin is probably the only comparable historical figure."

Harry nodded his understanding. It was, indeed, very impressive. The face hung there, motionless. "How long will it stay?" asked Harry.

"At least ten minutes," answered Yasunori.

"Fifteen, I think," put in his mother. "I'm fairly sure they stay on the one that's the highlight for fifteen minutes, so everyone has a chance to get a good look."

Taking a long look at the figure, Harry again wondered how the ghosts were able to coordinate their activities well enough to form such a good portrait. As he watched, he saw an extra line of light, like an outline, start at the top of the head, eventually encircling the entire head. "What's that?" asked Harry.

"What's what?" responded Yasunori.

"What's that thing around the head?"

"What thing?"

"That outline, the extra light, that just surrounded the head."

Yasunori looked closer. "I can't see anything. Father, can you?"

Sato peered at it closely. "No, I can't."

A spell, thought Harry. With great disquiet, he suddenly remembered the events of Sunday evening. Was something happening that wasn't supposed to happen? Or was this a reinforcing spell, standard, that no one could see because they couldn't see spells?

There was a lot of ambient noise, but Harry suddenly picked up something very faintly that sounded like his name, as though someone was shouting it from a great distance. Focusing intently with his improved hearing and eyesight, he listened again, and heard it coming from a few hundred meters away. He could barely see a ghost, floating ten meters above the crowd in the foothills.

What the hell? If it's a ghost calling for me, there's only one person it could be. Well, if this is wrong, people are going to be annoyed with me, but so be it. He took out the Elder Wand, and focused on the third-year Quidditch win. "Expecto Patronum!"

The stag burst out of his wand and galloped away through the air, in the direction of the ghost. The Satos stared at him in shock, even Yasunori, who had seen the spell before. "Harry, what are you doing?" he asked disapprovingly.

Harry knew that almost everyone around them was looking either at him or the Patronus, but he didn't care. "Someone's calling me."

"Look!" said Sawako. "There's a new pattern forming at the top of the head! They usually don't change once they're settled." Harry looked and saw the same thing: the top of the head was becoming substantially brighter, as if the spirits there had developed greater intensity. The effect was slowly spreading down; Harry guessed it would take five or ten minutes to work its way down.

Harry's Patronus was now coming back towards him, as a ghost zoomed over, and in seconds, had stopped right in front of him. "Fred! What's going on?"

"Harry! Thank Merlin you heard me. Been looking for you, like a needle in a bloody haystack. Mr. Sato, you understand English, right?"

Dumbfounded, Sato mutely nodded. The other Satos were equally baffled by the turn of events, and Harry knew they couldn't understand Fred.

"Listen, Mr. Sato," said Fred, speaking fast. "I only have time to tell you this once, and you need to believe me, or else you're going to lose the Antiquity Link. I've been under cover with some of your ghosts who don't like the Link so much; they're working with some ronin, older ones who've basically become Dark Wizards, maybe a dozen. The ronin told the rebel ghosts that they came up with a way to destroy the Link, and needed their help. Those ghosts are sick of the Link, and agreed to help them. Maybe a hundred ghosts.

"But what most of the ghosts didn't know is that what's happening, which is happening right now, will not just destroy the Link. A field just went up, surrounding the ghosts, holding them in place. The real plan is to turn all the ghosts into evil poltergeists, able to affect things in the physical world. Think Peeves, Harry, only evil. About eighty thousand of them. Think of what could be done."

Oh my God, thought Harry. He pointed. "Is that what's happening right now, at the top of the head?"

"Yes, that must be it," agreed Fred. "Those are now poltergeists, and it's spreading. All they needed was one ghost who was willing to become a poltergeist, as the catalyst. The spell infects others, through him. Their spirits will be trapped inside an evil host, and the ronin will control them. If something isn't done in the next few minutes, Mr. Sato, they're finished!"

Harry saw someone fly through the night air towards the bottom of the portrait. "Fred, who's that? Is that one of the bad guys?"

"Don't know, I'll check. Be back in a few seconds." He zoomed away.

Yasunori and Sawako started asking Harry and Sato questions, but Harry ignored them. He pointed his wand at his fingernail, whose ever-present light he had gotten so used to he had stopped noticing it, and started increasing the size of the package within it. When it had reached the size of the fingernail itself, he moved it to his hand, and enlarged it the rest of the way. Just in case, he thought. He unwrapped it and put the white wrapper in the bag,

Suddenly, Fred was back. "That's your friend from the Muggle world. He knows what's going on, but he just now found out about the evil poltergeist part of the deal, and he's trying to stop it." Harry saw the lone figure take up position at the bottom of the face; he saw a small bubble of magic interrupt the encircling spell. "I told him he couldn't, Harry, that's a powerful spell. He's not going to have enough energy to get out of there alive after a couple of minutes, and I told him that, but he just said, 'then I'm going to die trying.' The poltergeists expand more slowly while someone's interrupting the encircling spell, but like I said, it can't last."

Damn it, thought Harry. He turned to Sato, his tone very serious. "Listen to me. You've got to get the Aurors up there, you've got to let people know what's happening. And you've got to do it right now. This very minute! Do you understand?"

Sato was aghast. "But how do we know this is true?"

Barely controlling anger, Harry said, "Sato-san, Fred died fighting evil in our country. If he says it, you'd better believe it's true. Now, you have to do something!" Opening his bag, he spoke to it. "Firebolt!"

"One more thing," added Fred as Harry pulled out his broom and threw the bag over his shoulder. "The only way to save the Antiquity Link and reverse the ones who've already been turned is to reinforce the link through the shrines. Every Japanese shrine needs its owner to be there, doing that spell that reaches the Link. Anyone who doesn't do that risks their ancestors staying as poltergeists. Now, you'd better get moving!" Fred zoomed away.

Harry mounted his broom. "Harry, what are you doing?" cried Yasunori.

"Trying to slow this thing down, and I hope, get Kaz out of there." He glanced behind him. "Sato-san, you know what you have to do. You can see what's happening right there. Your ancestors are depending on you." He kicked off his broom, and shot up into the night sky. He didn't want to think about what would happen if Sato did nothing.

As he approached Kaz's position, he saw that about one-third of the spirits were now poltergeists; strangely, except for the greater intensity, the portrait looked the same. He wondered if the ghosts just couldn't move.

He pulled up next to an obviously weak Kaz. "Kaz! Get out of here!"

"Can't!" Kaz gasped. "Not... enough... strong..."

Harry put up his spell, similar to the one he'd used when announcing his presence at the beginning of the Voldemort duel to distract Voldemort's attention from killing Molly. Not that the shield would have stopped the Killing Curse, he knew, but there, it had been more for effect. Here, it was for a definite purpose. He made it circular, with both himself and Kaz in the circle. Immediately he felt great pressure around him and the shield, and wondered how Kaz had held his shield as long as he had. He must have been just about to lose it, Harry knew, and would have died. Harry hoped to avoid the same fate, but knew he had to hold on as long as he could. The rate of expansion of the poltergeists was increasing even now, he could see; clearly, the more there were, the faster they could turn others. Harry knew that if he hadn't gone up, the process would have been irreversible. But he also knew that he was only buying time. He looked down at Kaz, exhausted and barely conscious, lying across Harry's lap as he sat on his broom.

Harry focused all his energy on keeping the spell going, but it took a lot of consistent energy, like holding a heavy weight in place for an extended time. The muscles would just give out at some point, and he noticed that maintaining the spell was getting more and more difficult. Is it really getting harder, he thought, or is it just that I'm getting weaker from doing this so long? Hard to say.

Here's what's weird... the biggest danger I'm in is from the damn Japanese seniority system. It's all a matter of who Sato knows, or who the guy who Sato knows knows, and whether he can get someone to do something in time. Maybe that would be the case in England as well, but he's going to have to do something he's really uncomfortable doing just to get someone to listen to him. If he could get to Aurors... or will even the Aurors hesitate, waiting for permission from above? God, I hope not. He felt the strain of the spell weaken him further. Have to gaman, he thought with dark humor.

He felt the last reserves of his strength going, and knew he couldn't last more than another half minute at most. Okay, I gave it my best shot, but now I have to get out of here. Shield still in place, he tried to fly out, but his broom didn't move. He felt mild panic as he realized he was trapped; the pressure of the field around him not allowing him to move. He called upon desperation reserves of energy as he cast about for a way to--

"Life cube!" he shouted at his bag, then reached in and took it. It would be a shame to ruin it, he thought, but I could die here, so now isn't the time to be thinking about the future. With luck, I can always find a new one. He sucked the life out of it until it was black, then threw it back into the bag. He suddenly felt much better. Wondering if with new strength he could get away, but again, he couldn't move. He thought about Disapparating, but realized he would have to drop the shield first, and doing that would almost certainly kill him. No, it's all down to the Japanese now.

He started thinking about Ron and Hermione, who he might never see again. They would be devastated, and Hermione would no doubt use the phrase 'saving-people-thing' more than once in the days ahead. What's wrong with saving people anyway? Of course, here, I'm not exactly saving people, except for the people who the poltergeists would hurt or kill... probably a whole lot of Japanese wizards... what an irony that would be, killed by the trapped spirits of their revered ancestors...

A few more minutes passed as he occupied himself with such thoughts, as he used all his strength to keep the shield up. Looking up, he could see that now more than two-thirds of the face was poltergeists, and they were now moving about to such an extent that the top half of the face was unrecognizable. Harry could see them, darting about... he was getting weaker...

Focusing so hard on what he was doing, he found he was surprised when he felt the pressure lessen, as twelve men in silver-lined black robes took up positions in a circle around him, creating three shields with group spells. An Auror plucked Kaz's limp form from his lap, and another draped Harry over his shoulder as he flew away. Suddenly Harry heard a very loud announcement: "Attention, all citizens. There is a crisis requiring immediate action. All adult citizens must go to their shrine as quickly as possible. This is urgent. Leave your children here; they will be cared for. Our ancestors are in danger. Once at your shrine, you must..." Harry heard no more as he drifted into unconsciousness.

* * * * *

"Father! He's awake!"

Lying on his futon in his bedroom as he came to consciousness, Harry saw Yasunori standing at the door to his bedroom, shouting outside. In a few seconds, Sato came in with his son. From the sunlight coming through the window, Harry guessed it was about nine in the morning. Wow, I must have slept for quite a long time.

Still slightly weak, Harry sat up and to his surprise saw both Satos sit on the floor next to his futon in the seiza position and bow deeply towards him, their foreheads nearly touching the floor. Embarrassed, Harry mumbled, "Um, you really don't have to do that."

Assuming a more normal sitting position again, Sato nodded. "It is what we do, Harry-san, when we want to express thanks in a way that words cannot convey," he said gravely. "You saved the Antiquity Link, you saved our ancestors from a horrible fate, and you saved many lives at the festival. So many poltergeists, on the loose with so many people, could easily have become a bloodbath. You prevented all that. As I said, thanks are nowhere near enough."

"If Fred were here, he would say, 'money is good.'"

Sato grinned. "Yes, I had a short talk with him after last night's events, when he kindly described his version of the events to the Aurors. I translated his words for them, taking care to omit a few of his more... irreverent comments. Character-wise, he seems to be back to his usual self."

"We wouldn't have him any other way. Which reminds me, it wasn't only me. Kaz and Fred, too. Without them, it would have happened."

"And, of course, we owe them great thanks," agreed Sato. "But what you did was the most impressive, partly because unlike Fred-san, you risked your life, and unlike Harada-san, you did not have past sins to atone for, as it were. You... a colorful idiom I picked up in America is, you had no dog in this fight. You do not even have strong feelings about the Antiquity Link itself, as you expressed to the ronin last Sunday night. But you did what you did anyway. You... please excuse me, perhaps I should not say this, but... you will be a great Auror Leader."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Did Fred tell you about that?"

Sato explained the mark on Harry's forehead, showing him with a mirror and a Reveal spell. "You will be great because you naturally do the right thing, the thing that saves lives. You do what needs to be done, with honor, and I would be pleased to be a citizen of a country that had you as Auror Leader."

Harry was touched by Sato's words. "Thank you, I really appreciate that. But I'm far from sure that I want to be Auror Leader."

"I know, which is why I apologized for saying so. But I strongly feel that it is true."

Something else Sato had said suddenly registered. "How do you know about what happened Sunday night?"

"The Aurors... I apologize for their actions, as I know you will consider it an invasion of privacy, but they debriefed you while you were asleep. There is a method that allows them to contact your unconscious as you sleep, and cause you to respond to questions, which you cannot help but do truthfully. In view of your actions, I strongly urged them to wait until you were awake, but they insisted that time was a factor, and it had to be done as soon as possible; this was last night, two hours after the events. My presence was necessary, as your translating device does not work while you are asleep; I had to translate for them. Again, I apologize."

Harry sighed. "I'm not thrilled, but I suppose I can understand why they felt it was so necessary. Did I say anything interesting?"

Sato's lips formed a small grin. "As a matter of fact... after you explained what Fred-san had said about what would happen if nothing was done, the senior Auror's next question was, 'why did you do what you did?' He meant, why did you take it upon yourself when you had nothing at stake, but he did not frame his question precisely, and I translated it exactly as he said it. Your exact response was, 'you moron, didn't you hear what I just said?'" Harry and Yasunori started to laugh. "It was all I could do not to laugh, or smile. I apologized to the Auror for your rudeness, and assured him that you were quite polite when you were awake."

"Yusuke and Yosuke will love that," chuckled Harry. "Hey, that reminds me, the tournament! We need to get to school!"

Father and son exchanged an uneasy look. "Yasunori stayed home today; he wanted to make sure you were all right. But there is another matter connected to that, for which I must again apologize in advance... you cannot go to the school because the Ministry of Justice--and I stress that this is a technicality, purely for the sake of pursuing proper form--has requested that you not be allowed to leave this house until further notice. In a sense, you are considered to be under house arrest."

Harry was astonished, and was sure his face showed it. "Well, it's a good thing I didn't save the whole world instead of just Japan, because I'd be in real trouble then."

Yasunori nodded. "I'd be angrier than that, if it was me."

"Their reason is that you broke Japanese law; it is against the law to fly at the festival without prior approval."

Harry stared, waiting for more. When it didn't come, his mouth fell open. "You've got to be kidding! They're holding me for that??"

Sato nodded regretfully. "I am ashamed of the fact, but yes. Again, I emphasize that this is for form's sake; I would be shocked if charges against you were contemplated. It is just that while the British Minister can pardon one with the wave of his hand, here it is more complicated. Discussions must be held, consensus reached, and so forth.

"You see, Harry-san, on the surface, you are being held for the flying violation. In reality, they consider your more serious offense to be meeting with ronin, and being told of a plan to damage the Antiquity Link but not reporting it. The problem is, those things are not, strictly speaking, illegal. The flying violation gives them an excuse to consider the totality of your conduct when making their determination."

"I hope, Father, that the 'totality' of his conduct will include saving our ancestors, weighed against whatever minor things he didn't do exactly right." Harry had never heard Yasunori talk to his father quite so aggressively.

"Of course it will, Yasu-kun," Sato said gently.

"I am sorry, Sato-san, for not telling you about the ronin thing," said Harry sincerely. "Maybe I should have. It's just that--"

Sato waved him off. "You need not explain yourself, especially as you already have, when you were unconscious. It made sense, and I know that your heart was in the right place. Frankly, had you told me, I probably would have done nothing, thinking it was not a serious matter. I would probably have considered it the delusions of grandeur of ronin, and the ramblings of a demented spirit. The Aurors have already chided me for allowing you to meet with ronin; I hate to think what they would say had you reported what you heard and I had done nothing."

Harry frowned. "But you didn't know that I was meeting with him!"

"Harry-san, please. Of course I knew. Strictly speaking, according to Japanese tradition, I should not have allowed it. But I did not want you to feel like a prisoner by not allowing you to go to the Muggle world, and I felt you should be allowed to make up your own mind about Harada-san, or about ronin in general. I was not at all surprised you felt his punishment to be too harsh. I knew that he was a good young person, which is why his fate pained me so deeply."

"What will happen to him?"

Sato shrugged. "That is a very good question; I cannot begin to guess what they will do. You will no doubt say he should be allowed back into Japanese society. I cannot disagree, but such a thing would be literally unprecedented, and you know how much we Japanese love precedent. On the other hand, simply casting him out again would seem horribly ungrateful."

"If they don't accept him back, they could just send him to America," suggested Harry. "I think he'd be happier there."

"Not a bad idea," said Sato. "I will mention it."

Harry yawned and stretched. "So, what does one do under house arrest?"

Sato smiled. "Breakfast would seem like a good start, and my wife is making a special one, in your honor."

"What is it?" asked Harry, surprised.

"My Canadian counterpart recently gave me a gift of Canadian maple syrup. He included with it a recipe for pancakes."

Harry grinned. "Sounds very good."

* * * * *

Two days later, Harry walked down the halls of the Ministry with Sato at his side. During the five-minute walk, he was stopped three times by Ministry workers who wanted to thank him for his efforts.

They walked into the large office at the end of the corridor, which also contained a conference table, at which five men were already sitting. As they sat, Harry at the far end and Sato nearest to him, Sato quickly informed him that they were the ministers of Culture, Interior, Justice, Foreign Affairs, and the Minister of Magic.

"Potter-san," said the Minister officiously, his face expressionless. "A decision has been reached in your case. In view of your assistance to the people of Japan, you will not be prosecuted for your violation of Japanese law. You will, however, be asked to leave Japan within 48 hours."

Harry and Sato exchanged surprised glances, and Harry said the first thing that came to his mind, knowing it wasn't very politic but not caring. "Minister, you really don't have to do that. Your thanks is all the reward I need."

Harry saw from Sato's slight wince that he wasn't pleased. The Minister looked around, confused. "I... do not understand. Sato-san, is there a cultural nuance that I am missing?"

Harry now felt bad that Sato had to explain it, but to his surprise, Sato did it forthrightly, without apology on Harry's behalf or apparent embarrassment. "Yes, Minister. Potter-san's comment is sarcastic, suggesting that this action is far too punitive in view of his accomplishment, and so lacks any sense of gratitude."

Harry nodded. "I also meant to get across the concept of 'would you rather I had done nothing,' but Sato-san is correct. If your idea of gratitude is not sending me to prison, then I don't understand Japanese culture as well as I thought I did."

"None of which is my concern," responded the Minister, obviously irritated. "Discussion has been taken, and a decision arrived at. Sato-san, you will please prepare him for his departure." The Minister stood, causing all others at the table to do so except Harry.

The Minister headed for the door, and in so doing, passed within a few feet of Harry. "Minister," said Harry firmly as he stood. "Seriously, I would really like to know. Would you rather I hadn't done it?" The Minister stood still for a second, then silently continued walking, and left the room, followed by the Interior minister. The Foreign Minister, who Harry recognized as the one who had been annoyed with him upon his arrival, stood and headed out as well, but stopped in front of Harry and delivered a formal, 45-degree bow, which Harry knew was in Japan a highly respectful one. Harry delivered the same bow in return; the Foreign Minister nodded, and left.

The Justice Minister spoke first. "Potter-san, I am truly sorry for the Minister's action. While we do not wish to condone any sort of lawbreaking, the circumstances more than justify a complete pardon, in my opinion. Those I have spoken to in my department expressed their admiration for your actions, some requesting that I convey that to you. I do so now, adding my own as well."

"Thank you, Minister," replied Harry politely. The man nodded, got up, and left the room.

It was now just Harry, Sato, and the Culture Minister, who had all been seated at the far end of the table. "Potter-san, please allow me to introduce myself; my name is Takeshi Hayashi. When you arrived here, I was opposed to allowing you to stay here, and caused you a few small problems on your first day. I would like to admit that I was wrong, and apologize for my actions then."

Harry nodded, understanding that an apology was a symbol of respect, especially coming from a high government official. "Thank you, Hayashi-san, I appreciate that. As I told Sato-san at the time, I didn't take offense, and could easily see the same thing happening in England. But I wonder if I could ask you a question. Do you have any idea why the Minister takes the attitude he does? I mean, not that I need some kind of reward or official gratitude, but his manner and decision seem very... peculiar."

The Culture Minister nodded thoughtfully. "Your actions merit an answer to your question, even though very few Japanese in your position would ask, especially so directly. Needless to say, what I am about to say must not leave this room." Harry and Sato both nodded their acknowledgement.

"There have been many discussions among those of us of Ministerial rank in the past few days. The early ones concerned the ramifications of your actions, and the later ones were dominated by the same question you just asked.

"Most Ministers were in favor of your being given an award at a public ceremony, and fulsomely praised." I can do without the fulsome praise, thought Harry sardonically. "Two ministers, while appreciating your actions, preferred a more sedate response, perhaps a private ceremony. They feel some embarrassment at what you did, since a Japanese would almost certainly not have done it. Even in the face of an urgent situation, no one would act first without seeking permission from above, and almost no one would take the risks you took. Some feel that this points up an embarrassing lack in Japanese culture, one that in this case could have had disastrous consequences. People would feel that we are weak, because it took a foreigner to save us."

"Potter-san," said Sato, "is no ordinary foreigner, I assure you."

"Of course, I understand that," agreed Hayashi. "But many people would not, and would feel ashamed. To some extent, I feel that. Sato-san, you might as well; you were charged with getting the information to higher levels quickly."

"Yes, I agree. I would say I feel ashamed because the ten minutes after Potter-san took off on his broom were the most stressful and difficult of my life, and he was the one risking his life, not me. But I knew he was risking his life and I was responsible for getting him help, and I was terrified that I might let him down. I was deeply grateful that the Aurors took me seriously."

"Sato-san," said Harry gravely, "I've been responsible for other people's lives before, and I know that it's very scary. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Sato nodded to Harry in gratitude. "I felt," continued Hayashi, "that any such feelings of embarrassment Japanese had due to these circumstances could not be helped, and should not be hidden or downplayed. Many agreed with me; a few disagreed, the Minister most strongly. If we were all true equals, a middle course would have been taken. But the Minister has what amounts to veto power; nothing can be done that he does not approve of, and the final result was the most he would agree to.

"As to his reasons, we can only speculate, which we have done. He has always been more conservative than most; he only allowed you to stay here in the first place because of a strong personal appeal by the English Minister of Magic. He believes strongly in precedent, and dislikes change. But there is another factor that informs our speculation. Potter-san, do you know what the Minister's name is?"

Harry shook his head.

"His name is Kentaro Morishita."

The name sounded familiar... Harry's mouth fell open as he remembered. "Gantaro Morishita..."

Hayashi nodded. "His great-grandfather was the spirit you talked to when you were taken to the meeting with the ronin. We are nearly certain that he is deeply ashamed of this, and for this reason, wishes the public fallout from this episode to be as low-key as possible. At his behest, the newspaper is putting out the line that it was a triumph of the Japanese people, who followed instructions and hastened to their shrines that night, and of the Aurors. Your involvement and that of Harada-san is described as 'other assistance.'"

Harry chuckled. "I just wish the English papers would start doing that."

Sato briefly explained Harry's situation vis-à-vis the English media. "It is good that you do not take offense," said Hayashi, "but the true version of events has been spreading fast through the grapevine, and many feel that the Minister's actions show a shameful lack of respect for what you have done. This has already become a whispered matter of controversy, which will likely grow larger with time. It could even cause him to resign sooner than he had planned. But for now, nothing can be done about his decision. I am truly sorry."

"Well, thank you for your explanation, anyway," said Harry.

"Will you be headed back to England?" asked Hayashi.

Harry sighed. "I don't think so. I'm not sure where I will go, though."

Sato spoke. "There is something you should know, Harry-san, when you make that decision. The Minister's job, the English Minister, is said to be hanging by a thin thread. He could be replaced at any time. The Minister and I both understood that the next Minister may be tempted to contact whatever country is hosting you and have you returned to England, to serve as a political asset. The Minister requested that I inform you of this, so that you could go to a country from which you could not be called back. I have prepared a list of such countries."

Harry nodded, surprised that Kingsley had bothered. "Thank you. I'll look at it later."

"If there is anything that I can do for you in the next two days, it would be an honor to do so," said Hayashi. "Is there any way that I or my department could assist you?"

Harry thought for a minute. "There are two things. First of all, and this is something I'll be saying to every Japanese person I talk to before I leave... talk to your ancestors, all of them. Ask them how they feel about the Antiquity Link, how they feel about staying around so long. Tell them you want them to tell you the truth, their real feelings, not just what they think they're supposed to say. Ask them to talk to other spirits about it, honestly. I don't know how common the Minister's great-grandfather's feelings are, but they were enough to almost cause disaster. Re-evaluate the Antiquity Link thinking about the comfort of the spirits, and look into reshaping it, so the spirits that are having a hard time can leave."

"Of course, the beginning of such a discussion is already taking place," said Hayashi. "But it is true that many honored ancestors may hide their true feelings, in the name of tradition and gaman. Also, change comes slowly, especially for such a cherished part of our culture. But I do, reluctantly, recognize the need for these questions to be raised. I promise to do as you have asked.

"Now, then, what was the second request?"

* * * * *

Forty-six hours later, Harry was gathering everything he wanted to take with him. The Satos had insisted that he take his school uniform and the formal wear they'd purchased for him as mementos, as well as a copy of the family picture that had been taken a few nights ago. He also took the books Sato had bought for him, thinking they'd be of interest in the future.

He had received many visitors over the past two days, including some people he didn't know, friends or relatives of the Satos, and some students from the tactical school. All thanked him profusely for his actions, and some apologized for the official reaction to what he had done. He made the same request of them that he had of Hayashi, and all agreed to talk to their ancestors.

I'm going to miss this place, he thought as he packed. Not that I was going to stay here forever, but I suppose it's different to leave when you choose to, and leaving when you have to. Then again, after what happened, maybe it's just as well. I would have been famous again, and I know how that goes. Maybe they treat famous people differently in Japan, but I'm not sure I need to find out.

There was a knock at his door; with his wand, he waved it open. His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Takenaka-san! Please, come in."

Takenaka stepped inside. "The Satos kindly allowed me to come by before you left. I know you are busy and do not have much time, but in addition to thanking you for your actions, I also wished to say that I will miss our practice sessions. I am sure that practicing with you will increase my chances of becoming an Auror."

"I hope so," agreed Harry. "Thanks. I enjoyed it, too. You're very good; I don't think you'll have any problems."

"It's kind of you to say so. You may be interested to know that I talked to my grandfather about what happened, and he also wished me to convey his gratitude. He had been taken over, and said that it was a very frightening experience. He also said that a conversation, an unusually frank one, has begun among the honored spirits about the Antiquity Link. Many do not want it changed, but a few do. Many are still hesitant to offer their true opinion, but at least it is a beginning."

"I'm glad," said Harry. "When I die, I'd certainly like to have the choice."

"I gather the Gift helped you do what you did. At the festival, I saw the shield go up around the gathering of spirits, and wondered what it was.

"I thought you should know that in the future, when anyone criticizes the fact that I move when I duel, I will mention the fact that you do as well, and it is because you do what you need to do, to get the job done. After what you did, that concept may gain currency. I hope it will, anyway."

"I hope so too."

Takenaka nodded. "Good luck in your future." He extended a hand, which Harry shook. "You too," said Harry.

After Takenaka left, Harry checked his bag and made sure he had everything he came with, which of course wasn't much. Sure that he was finally finished, he went out to the living room and spent a while talking to Yasunori, who had been furious--at least, for him--when he'd heard about the Minister's decision. Harry was touched because he knew it was partly because of the decision itself, but also because it meant Harry would be leaving. They had spent many hours together, and he would miss Sato too, but Yasunori most of all.

Finally, it was time to go, though Sato and Yasunori would accompany Harry to the Ministry. Harry thanked the Satos for their hospitality; they all said they had been very happy to have him there. "And we would say that even if you hadn't done anything heroic," joked Yasunori.

Harry laughed. "I appreciate that." He said goodbye to each of the women individually, then took a Portkey with the two men to the Ministry.

They walked through the halls, which seemed unusually empty; Harry then realized that it was a Sunday. Of course, it would be empty.

They walked into the main working area of the Foreign Ministry, which led to the portals which took one to other countries. On entering the large room, Harry did a double-take on seeing fifty or sixty people, mostly men, in formal or semi-formal dress.

"Arigato gozaimashita," they intoned, bowing, as Harry's device gave the usual translation, 'thank you very much.' "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," they added, again as one; this one, Harry knew, had no translation. They bowed again. Japanese sure are good at doing things in groups, Harry couldn't help but think.

Harry was touched at the display; he was sure it was at least partly in compensation for what their Minister had done. "It's very kind of you," he said. "Thank you for coming in on a Sunday to say goodbye." They bowed again, this time saying, 'Sayonara.' Hayashi joined Harry, Yasunori, and Sato, and led them into the next room.

"Potter-san," said Hayashi, "I have done as you asked. Five staff members and I spent as much time as possible yesterday and Friday combing the archives, anyplace that seemed as though it might lead to the information you seek. Unfortunately, the only thing we discovered is that the archives are sorely in need of being upgraded, catalogued, and cross-referenced. I regret that we were unable to tell you what you need to know."

Harry nodded sadly; he hadn't expected much. "I understand. I appreciate your spending all that time looking."

"There is one silver lining, though a small one," Hayashi went on. "One of my staff members recalled a story about a magical... 'oracle' may be the best word for it, an ageless magical wellspring that has a consciousness all its own, or at least, it seemed to visitors that it did. He spent some of his time searching for an account of that, and he found it. It was slightly difficult to read, as it was over five hundred years old, but it could be understood. It was written by the man who encountered it.

"It seems that it is on, or near, a particular mountain in Thailand. Get close enough, and the oracle will sense your presence. It will then make a judgment as to whether your 'heart is pure,' and if it is, you will be transported to what he describes as a road. You follow that road, facing 'trials such as I have never faced,' according to the account.

"If you are successful, as he was, the oracle will give you the information you seek. But it will ask something of you in return. He wrote that the oracle told him that fewer than one in fifty supplicants get what they seek. He was vague about any further details, recording that the oracle does not want those who seek it to have complete information about what is to happen."

"Because that would ruin the surprise," muttered Harry.

Hayashi looked at Sato inquiringly, but Yasunori answered. "He's being sarcastic," he informed Hayashi, who nodded.

"Why does there always have to be a trail?" Harry went on. "Why can't they just see that I'm pure of heart, and give me the information I want without the whole business of trials? It's not like I haven't had enough already." He glanced at Hayashi, then remembered himself. "Sorry, that wasn't directed at you. I really appreciate all your efforts, and please give extra thanks to the guy who found this. It may be my only chance. So, how do I get there?"

Hayashi was surprised. "You are going to do it?"

Harry shrugged. "Of course."

"You seemed worried about the trials."

Harry laughed, as did Yasunori. "He's confident he can do it, Minister," explained Yasunori. "He was complaining because he was annoyed, not worried. Harry is very strong at gaman, but he would much rather avoid having to gaman if at all possible. His culture doesn't value it like we do."

"Fascinating," said Hayashi. "You seem to have gotten quite a cultural education, young man."

"Both of us did," said Harry.

"As to your question, I will take you there. Anticipating your agreement, I have set the direction to the Thai foreign ministry, but you will not quite reach it. I will tell you exactly when to step off the magical path, and when you do, you will be within mental reach of the oracle. I do not know how quickly it will sense your presence, so if nothing happens immediately, you should be patient. But if nothing happens over a period of several hours, you may want to consider that it has rejected your unspoken request."

"What about supplies? Food, and water?"

"The account said, 'I brought supplies, but in the end I discovered that not only were they unnecessary, but they added to my suffering."

Harry nodded. "Well, let's skip that, then. I suspect there'll be more than enough suffering as it is, without bringing on any extra."

Hayashi looked at Yasunori, who nodded.

"Well, this is it, then," said Harry, turning to Sato. "Sato-san, thank you again for all you've done, including putting up with me when I was being very... Western. You helped a lot, at a time when I really needed it."

Sato extended a hand, which Harry shook. "It was my pleasure. Good luck, Harry."

Harry smiled at the absence of 'san,' an indication that Sato was speaking in Harry's native cultural context. He turned to Yasunori.

"Goodbye, Harry," said Yasunori solemnly. "I'll miss your sarcasm most of all."

Harry laughed heartily. "You have learned much," he said, with mock pomposity. "Sadly, you will have no opportunities to use what you have learned."

"Well, the other two Y's," pointed out Yasunori. "We can amuse each other with it, like, 'Harry would have said such-and-such.' But seriously, I'll miss you. Nothing against my sister, but it was nice having a brother in the house for a while."

Harry nodded, appreciating the compliment. "You, too. Thanks for everything." They shook hands, and Harry reluctantly turned to Hayashi. "Okay, I'm ready."

* * * * *

Next: Chapter 19, A Bedtime Story: A series of unexpected visions helps Harry to begin to understand the actions and feelings of others--especially Ginny. But he finds it may be too late to revive the relationship they once had.

From Chapter 19: Ginny let out a loud moan of pain and frustration. "Why didn't he just stay here? We could have helped him, kept him away from Kingsley, from anyone he didn't want to be around."

"I think he's doing what's best for him," said Hermione.

"And what about me?" fumed Ginny. "How long does he expect me to wait for him?"

Surprised, Ron said, "I don't think he was thinking about that when he left."

"Obviously not!" she shouted angrily. "But then, what was I ever to him?"