Yo. So, long time. This chapter has been done for over a year and it's just been sitting on my hdd waiting for me to finish accepting the changes my beautiful, dedicated french beta Tinn imparted to it.

Enjoy, and what not.

~Jon

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Insert deep and thoughtful quote here.

 

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The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. A soft breeze was wafting from the open balcony into the dimly lit room, and the smell of grass soaked with morning dew was strong even as high up as the room was. Harry lay on his side, gazing out of the balcony window to the large forest that began at the edge of the garden below. The chilly air stung his lungs mildly as he breathed in deep.

“I could have sworn I was gonna wake up dead today,” Harry murmured under his breath. The bed he was laying on shifted and a rustling sound met his ears. A moment later a soft cool arm curled around Harry’s side and a distinctly feminine shape pressed up against his back.

“You’re quite rude in the morning,” Lara muttered into the back of Harry’s neck; he felt her lips quirk up in a small smile. “I’ve already promised I wouldn’t feed on you,” Lara pointed out through a yawn as she snuggled against Harry’s back and hooked her leg over his lower body. She bit down lightly on the back of his neck, causing him to tense. “As hard as it was to keep myself from relieving you of it, you’re still a poor, poor virgin.”

“Sex or my soul,” Harry murmured thoughtfully, ignoring the heat that was rising up on his face. “Sex or my soul, hard choice.” A small laugh escaped Lara and Harry couldn’t help but smile and press himself back against Lara’s chest. The sensation of her body against his was causing his skin to heat up. Lara’s breasts were pressing up against his back, and it felt like the only thing between them was his clothing. It would take so little to accidentally slip and—

“You’re using your charm,” Harry murmured, not sounding reproachful at all. He turned his head back to kiss Lara only for the feelings to suddenly vanish; he stopped and blinked in mild confusion.

“Sorry,” Lara apologized without attempting to move away; unless Harry was mistaken, her hand was feeling around for the end of his shirt. “Wasn’t thinking about it.”

Harry chuckled as he clasped his hand over the top of Lara’s, holding it down. His chuckles suddenly stopped. A frown slowly overcame his face as he let go of Lara’s hand and traced her arm back to her body. His eyebrows rose as his fingers met nothing but smooth skin except for a thin strip of cloth. His frown quickly changed into a grin as his fingertips brushed over a soft swell of flesh. “When did you—“ he began to ask, only to gasp in pain as the hand which had been idly resting on his stomach suddenly dug into his flesh.

Lara clucked her tongue at Harry mockingly. “It’s rude to fondle a woman without her permission.” She lifted her head up from Harry’s neck, craned her head over his side and smiled down at him. “You’re also very obtuse in the morning.” Her lips crooked upwards. “And daring,” she added, sounding pleased.

“You feel obtuse,” Harry grumbled under his breath, suddenly feeling a lot less ‘courageous’.

“Really?” Lara drawled as she pulled away from Harry and sat up, holding the white blanket that had been covering them both. “I personally think I’m rather acute.”

Harry felt the blanket slip off of him, followed by a sudden rush of cold air. He curled up momentarily before rolling over—and catching a brief flash of creamy white skin before the white blanket obscured Lara’s body from view. “There is something horribly ironic about being fine sleeping in bed with me almost completely naked but covering yourself when you get out,” he said.

“I may be a porn star but I have morals,” Lara called out as she disappeared from view into a side room Harry hadn’t noticed the night before.

“The irony continues,” Harry mumbled, stretching out and slipping his legs off of the bed. His attention was drawn to the balcony where the pristine white drapes were floating aloft in the wind. Despite the cold, Harry pushed himself off of the bed and walked out onto the balcony.

There was a fine layer of mist covering the garden below, it stretched out past the edge of the lawns into the forest that surrounded the mansion in all directions. Though his vision was a bit blurry, he could see through the mist the faint colour of flowers managing to peak through. Throughout the grounds, various garden-tool-wielding servants were going about tidying up the already immaculate garden.

Harry didn’t envy them at all. Up on the balcony the air was chilly, but down below it must have been even worse. Harry had no idea how Lara could stand her room usually. Though he had to admit it was quite nice, much better than his room—which he had originally thought was extravagant. His feet were beginning to sting slightly from the cold marble of the balcony floor. The sound of feet padding against the ground filled the silence that permeated the mansion.

Harry turned around to face Lara.

She had abandoned the casual look she had worn the previous day. She wore a suit reminiscent of the one she had been wearing a week prior when he had first met her. The major difference was that the suit front was spread open to reveal a low-cut blouse, and a white expensive-looking handbag loosely hung from her hand. Where the first had been pure business—besides the thigh-high skirt—this one looked as though sealing a business deal wasn’t the only thing Lara was fit to do in the outfit.

Lara seemed to read his mind and frowned. “Get that thought out of your head,” she said, her lips curving upwards into a smile.

Harry scowled. “Mind-reading too? That’s not fair,” he complained, folding his arms across his chest.

Lara’s smile took a bemused turn. “I didn’t read your mind, Harry, the look on your face was all I needed to know what you were thinking.” She paused and licked her lips, before adding on, “And your eyes were a little low… Aren’t they your glasses?” She pointed to the ground between them.

Harry looked down, and blinked in surprise. Against the white surface of the floor a single thin black object stood out. In front of him Lara bent down and picked them up off of the ground. Her smile slipped from her face, giving way to a frown.

“They’re broken,” she observed before holding them out to Harry and straightening up. “How did they get up here?”

Harry stepped forwards and took them from Lara. He trailed his finger over the cracks that ran through the lenses before looking back up to Lara and explaining, “Last night I think Morgan knocked them off, when I got onto the grounds I tried to summon them... I thought it didn’t work but I guess it just took a while.”

He reached to his back pocket for his wand, but his fingers gripped nothing but air.

“Looking for this?” Lara asked innocently as she drew something out of her handbag—his wand, Harry realized after a moment.

He took it from Lara with a suspicious glance.

At Harry’s look Lara shrugged her shoulders lightly. “I took it once you fell asleep so if something ended up sticking into me I’d know what it was,” she explained conversationally.

Harry snorted and flicked the tip of the wand at his glasses, nonverbally casting the Repairing charm on them. The glasses shuddered erratically and the cracks sealed up as the charm worked its magic, repairing the glasses to a pristine condition.

Lara was watching in fascination. “You know I have a few broke…” She trailed off as Harry slipped the glasses back onto his face and gave her a reproachful look. “Never mind, I’ll just buy new ones.”

“Much better.”

“Not really,” Lara disagreed, but did not go on to explain, instead reaching back into her handbag and withdrawing a notebook a little larger than her hand. “I have a special job for you today,” she said as she held out the notebook to Harry. He opened it and she continued, “I need you to go and collect a package from a special bookstore.” She smiled pleasantly at Harry. “It’s located in a shopping district that your kind reside in and do shopping.”

“Horizon Square?” Harry asked as he flipped through the notebook. “The place is called Scerri Scholastics?” He looked up to Lara. “It sounds like one of those stupid bookshops they had when I was in grade school.”

Lara’s eyebrows rose slightly. “That would be because they are the same company; this however is more of a… franchise. Scerri is the owner of the store, and Scholastics is the brand name.” She brought her hand up to her face and tapped her finger on her lips in thought. “At least I assume so, I’m not versed in your world’s affairs.”

“So you want me to just pick it up? I can have it back in a few minutes, just give me the address and a map.”

Lara laughed softly and held up her hand, prompting Harry to stop. “If I had just wanted them to be delivered I could have done so, but I had assumed you would enjoy a small break and a chance to… re-immerse yourself in your… wizard culture, as well as purchase some items—as a business expense of course, provided you’re able to keep them secret.”

Harry stared at Lara silently; a wave of warmth filled him up from the inside, creating a wholesome, content feeling. At first he wasn’t sure if it was natural or artificially created, but after a few more moments he recognized it and smiled at Lara. He stepped forwards to hug her, but Lara kept her hand up between them.

“Hold it, I’m not finished.” Lara clucked her tongue in disproval and held up three fingers. “There are three conditions. One, while you’re at the bookstore you will purchase a sufficient quantity of material pertaining to warding and magical means of securing a premise. Two, you will also purchase books which you believe would have helped you defeat the Warden Morgan, and third I require you buy a present for me. Nothing too large, a simple trinket will suffice.”

“You’re making it a condition that I get you a present?” Harry asked flatly, disbelief audible in his voice, along with a hint of annoyance.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Lara said matter-of-factly.

“It seems like the thought is coming entirely from you,” Harry grumbled, ignoring the small voice in his head pointing out that he would have probably gotten her a thank-you gift anyway; the tone of the voice reminded him of a certain bushy-haired witch.

Lara shrugged her shoulders and smiled at Harry before holding out a rectangle piece of paper. “This is a cheque for a fairly sizable amount, it should do for today.” She reached out and clasped Harry’s hand as he moved to take the slip of paper, and placed something else in his hand. “Use this if you need to contact me.”

She let go and Harry looked down to his hand.

“A mobile?”

Lara nodded with a pleased expression on her face. “My number is in it as well as Inari’s, plus a few others.” She pointed to the notebook in Harry’s other hand. “This also has some instructions on how to use the cell pho-“

“I know how to use a phone,” Harry snapped with a scowl.

Lara’s gaze met Harry’s calmly and she stared at him silently for several seconds. “I see,” she finally said coolly. She dropped her hands to her sides, stepped back and turned away. “Have a nice day Harry, I will see you when you return.”

The pleasant feeling that had been filling him up had suddenly vanished down the hole which had opened up in the bottom of his stomach at the sudden rush of anger. He watched the back of Lara’s head as she walked out of her room. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath; he had no idea where the sudden irritation had come from, especially since Lara had done nothing to deserve it, besides try to help him.

His gaze travelled down to the notebook, cheque and mobile in his hands. Maybe he’d get her an extra present as an apology. After a few moments of staring down at the items in his hands he shook his head and moved off of the balcony and out of the room.

---

 

Harry was lost in thought as he walked down one of the main corridors between Lara’s room and his own quarters. His eyes were glued on the front page of the notebook in his hand. It had listed on it the information about the place Lara wanted him to go to—Horizon Square, the Chicago equivalent to Diagon Alley, according to the notepad. The information listed was pretty basic; where it was located, how to get in. On the next page there was a crude diagram of where the bookshop was in the square, along with a small caption in what Harry assumed to be Lara’s handwriting. As Harry approached the door of his room he shuffled the items in his hands into his left and held them to his front. He opened the door with his free hand and moved to step inside.

“Harry!” a feminine shout came from behind him; he was left no time to react, the next second someone slammed into his back and sent him crashing forwards into his room. The items he had held went sprawling all over the floor in front of the door. He could see the notebook half open on the floor, the cheque next to it. His eyes fell upon his wand, which was still rolling across the floor. A pair of hands suddenly wrapped around his eyes, causing his vision to go blank. He suddenly had a dreadful confirmation of who had jumped on him.

“Guess who?” Inari’s voice whispered into Harry’s ear.

“Inari,” Harry greeted flatly.

“Aw,” Inari pouted and slid her hands off of Harry’s face. She remained sitting on his back however, with her knees resting on the ground at his sides. “You’re no fun,” she complained mildly.

“And you’re predictable,” he retorted before turning his head to look back at the black haired teen. “Gerroff,” he grunted out as he reached back to push Inari off.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Inari pout and fold her arms across her chest. She was wearing the same clothes as she had the night prior, and from the rumpled look of them and the disarray her dark hair was in, Harry could venture a guess that she hadn’t been back to her room yet.

“Not until you apologise for leaving me in the Library all night!” she said sourly and dug her knees into Harry’s sides. Harry caught himself in the middle of a disturbing mix of a laugh and a snort. Inari’s eyes widened and her lips split into a large grin. “You’re ticklish?” she asked, her breath excitable.

“No,” Harry shook his head while his mind quickly came up with an excuse. “You just hit my funny bone, and besides, I gave you a blanket,” he explained slowly before he reached down to pry Inari’s knees out of his sides. He squirmed violently as Inari’s knees once again dug into his sides. Unwanted laugher escaped him as he writhed under the girl. He swung his arm behind him to knock her off and caught her on the side.

Inari gave a short yelp as she toppled off of Harry onto the ground next to him. Harry pulled himself up and glanced over to the Raith scion. Inari lay on her back on the floor with a sour look on her face. Her bluish-grey eyes were locked on the ceiling and refused to go anywhere near Harry. Harry gave an amused sigh and mumbled an apology before he began to collect the spilt objects off of the floor. “Sorry Inari, I have an errand to run for Lara and I want to get it done before midday.”

Inari’s eyes flickered over to Harry and the sour look upon her face threatened to slip. She bit down on her lip, and in a shocking display of self restraint managed to wait a full thirty seconds before she couldn’t resist any longer and scrambled onto her feet, by which time Harry had already picked up all of the items and dropped them onto his bed—minus his wand which had disappeared up his sleeve.

“An errand?” she asked with a cheeky grin. “What kind? Can I come?” She jumped on Harry’s bed, ignoring the items he had dumped on it, and bounced a few times against the springy mattress.

Harry let out a bark of laughter and shook his head before gesturing to Inari. “Look away.” Inari complied and flopped backwards onto the bed, fixating her gaze on the white-washed ceiling once again. “You can’t come,” Harry explained as he began to get changed from his crumpled—though magically cleaned—clothes. “It’s a… special store.”

“A Pornostore you mean?” Inari teased as she lifted her legs up off of the bed and kicked at the air above her. “I’m allowed to go to those as long as I don’t buy anything, at least with Lara.” She paused and seemed to think something over. “Did you know Lara is gonna get me a job at the next movie she’s going to be starring in?” She rolled over and looked at Harry, who had fixed her with a stare of disbelief. “Not as an actor,” she specified, “as a stage hand, you know, like a director assistant.”

Harry blinked his eyes as he slipped a predictably white t-shirt on.

He had placed his wand on the top of the drawer from where he had taken out his clothes. It was a mistake. “What’s that?” Inari asked as she slipped an arm out from underneath her and pointed it towards the wand.

“It’s a conductor wand,” Harry lied smoothly. “For orchestras.”

“You are a conductor guy?” Inari asked, her eyes wide. “I didn’t know you were into music, I am too you know, I lik…” She trailed off at Harry’s blank stare. “Right, you don’t care,” she said under her breath and flopped down on to the top of the bed, then mumbled something into the sheets that Harry couldn’t catch.

“Pardon?” Harry asked as he walked back towards the bed, and slipped his wand into his back pocket. He began to pick the items off of the bed, starting with the slip of crumpled paper. He glanced down at the writing on it before asking, “What do I do with this? Do I give it to a bank or-?” He held the slip of paper up to Inari, who rolled over and snatched it out of Harry’s hands.

She was silent for a few moments before she let out a low, appreciative whistle. “Wow, is this like your paycheck or something?” She paused. “You just go in to a bank and they’ll make an account for you, or you could withdraw it, I suppose.” She held it out to Harry, only to pull it back as he reached for it. “Uh, uh, uh, why would Lara give you this much for an errand?” She grinned. “Gonna get something extra?”

Harry scowled and snatched it from Inari’s hand, quicker than she could react, causing the thin girl to pout in disappointment. “Maybe I am,” he said dismissively as his expression faded away. He glanced down to the writing on the cheque and did a quick calculation in his head before finally coming up with a number. Harry groaned and palmed his face. The amount on the slip was almost one fiftieth of what the salary that he had been allocated was.

“Funny Lara, real funny,” Harry grumbled under his breath. “Making me pay for your errand and making me buy the stuff you want me to—and get you a gift, you’ll be lucky if I get you anything but a Blast-Ended Skrewt.”

“You’re getting Lara a present?” Inari asked with mock wonder and a hint of confusion. Her expression turned innocent and she held her head up off of the bed under her. “What are you gonna get her? If you don’t know exactly I could tell you, she and I kinda have the same tastes, so what I’d like she would as well.”

“I’ll find out on my own, thanks,” Harry said calmly, ignoring the look Inari gave. “But I’ll try and get you something as well,” he added on after a quick thought.

Inari’s face broke out into a large and pretty smile.

“Thanks Harry!” she chirped out before rolling off of the bed and onto her feet. Just as she was about to leave her eyes fell upon a glossy object on the bed next to her; she picked it up and held it in her hand. She immediately recognized what it was from the look of surprise in her eyes. She glared up at Harry accusingly. “You didn’t tell me you had a phone?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders and held his hand out to Inari. “I just got it,” he said.

Inari nodded thoughtfully before rapidly pressing a series of buttons on the phone. A moment later a beep sound came from it and she slapped it into Harry’s hand. Harry stared dumbstruck down at her, before opening his mouth to ask what she had done.

“I just sent a message from your phone to mine with your phone number,” Inari explained before Harry was able to utter a single word.

“Oh,” Harry murmured dumbly, then shook himself out of the minor stupor. “Alright, just go, I want to-“

“Get it done before midday,” Inari interrupted exasperatedly before she folded her arms across her chest. A suspicious look passed over her face, and a split-second later she suddenly lunged backwards, only to come to a quick stop as Harry stuck his arm out and caught her around the stomach. “Harry!” she complained as Harry’s arm hooked around her midsection.

“Don’t even think about it,” Harry snapped as he took a few steps towards his door and pulled the struggling Inari along with him. Inari let out an almost hysterical laugh as she slapped her hands against his arms in a mock-violent way. Harry moved to push her off of him, but Inari managed to wrap her arms around his neck from his side before he could. She pulled herself against Harry and tried to topple them both over, but ultimately failed. Inari’s laughter slowly died down as she muffled her mouth against Harry’s shoulder. She suddenly stopped moving completely, and Harry blinked in surprise at the sudden change. “What’s the matter?” he asked confusedly.

“Huh?” Inari mumbled as she lifted her head up off of Harry’s shoulder; her eyes found Harry’s after a few moments and a frown marred her face. She slowly leaned up to Harry’s face and her eyes narrowed slightly. She sniffed his hair lightly and after a few moments leaned backwards, with a guarded expression on her face. “You smell… interesting, what did you do last night?” she asked slowly.

Harry stared at Inari’s face dumbstruck. He lifted the collar of his shirt up and sniffed lightly. He couldn’t smell anything except a faint husky, feminine smell, probably from Lara, on the other hand the smell of sweat and singed threads from the previous night might have soaked into his skin. “Nothing… important,” he finally managed to say.

Inari’s eyes narrowed and she stepped backwards, folding her arms across her chest with a knowing smirk upon her face. “Really?” she asked sarcastically. “It smells like you had a rather… hot night.”

“You shouldn’t be able to smell anything like that,” Harry said slowly. “I cleaned up pretty well before I went to sleep.”

“I have a good nose.” Inari tapped her nose sullenly. “You definitely had an interesting time last night, didn’t you?” she teased him before giving a cheeky wink; her voice hitched slightly, but it happened so quickly Harry wasn’t all that sure that he hadn’t imagined it. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone, as long as you get me that present.”

“You can’t blackmail me with that,” Harry pointed out in good humour.

“Really?” Inari asked innocently, leaning forward on her toes. “So if I told... Madeline what you did, you’d be alright with it?” A look of satisfaction crossed her face as Harry stiffened.

“Why would she care?” he asked after a moment of consideration.

“She had her eye on you from that night,” Inari explained with a forced grin. “She’s been calling me a bit, trying to find a reason to visit, I wonder why she’d want to do that. She’d be devastated if she knew that you and Lara wer-“

“Me and Lara?” Harry interrupted. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Lara both...” Inari trailed off and waggled her eyebrows. “Last night, didn’t you?”

Harry blinked. “No we didn’t.”

Inari gave Harry a disbelieving look. “But you spent the night in her room, didn’t you?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Doesn’t mean anything happened.”

Inari’s demeanour took on an exasperated quality. She shook her head and gave Harry a small smile before waving her hand lightly and walking out of the room without another word.

Harry watched on blankly as Inari left the room, and giggles began to sound from the outside of the hallway. Harry shook his head and closed the door to his room behind him before making his way towards the stairs.

---

 

As Harry reached the bottom of the flight of stairs he skipped the dining room completely. It wasn’t used except for dinner, and even then it was sparsely occupied. Most of the non-servant occupants of the mansion were rarely home except to sleep. Besides Inari there were few people who could boast considerable time spent in the mansion, and even then when she could get away with it she was out and about, taking in the offerings the state had to offer.

However, one thing he had learned was that at any given time something was in the kitchen waiting to be eaten. Thankfully after the first ‘attempt’ at eating from there he had decided to stop taking Inari’s advice on what to eat. Though, he had taken to making sure to not eat in front of Inari, unless what he was eating hadn’t once been alive and kicking—literally. It usually ended with a tirade about the ‘poor animals’ and the steroids.

The smell of toast was wafting through the hallways close to the kitchen. The warm smell counterbalanced the chilly temperature of the lower floors. One problem with the marble interior of the Raith’s ground floor was that it was freezing during the morning and night. As per usual the servants he passed did their best to ignore him. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a flash of brown hair, and for moment Harry thought it was Beatrice, only for it to turn out to be his imagination.

The moment Harry stepped into the kitchen a wave of delicious heat struck him. On one side of the kitchen a pot full of porridge sat bubbling on the stove. Beside it, a grill was splattered with several eggs, all sizzling slowly. A small distance away a toaster popped up two slices of toasted bread. Harry glanced around the kitchen idly and stepped forwards, inching closer to the toaster. He plucked one of the slices out of the toaster and took a bite.

A pretty-boy servant walked back into the kitchen from the back of the room, he took notice of Harry and a flicker of annoyance passed through his eyes. Without a word the servant walked over to the oversized pantry on the other side of the kitchen. A few moments later he walked out with a single slice of black spotted bread in his hand. Harry smiled apologetically at the man and said a garbled “Sorry,” before he chewed the mouthful he had and repeated it in a much clearer voice. His apology went unaccepted though; as soon as the man had reset the bread in the toaster he walked out of the room again.

Harry shrugged his shoulders and finished off the slice of toast before glancing around the half-empty kitchen for an opened carton of milk. Finding none, he slipped his way past a few dutiful maids to the large fridge on the side of the kitchen and collected one from inside. As he opened it and took a drink he saw a slip of glossy black hair from the corner of his eye. He frowned, turned his head to the right and almost dropped the liter carton from his hand.

“Thomas?” Harry asked in surprise.

On the other side of the kitchen Thomas stood, looking momentarily stunned. “Harry?” he asked with an equally surprised tone.

An awkward silence filled the kitchen, though the servants didn’t seem to notice and went about their usual business. After a few moments Thomas put on a friendly smile and walked over to Harry. “Morning,” he greeted.

“Morning,” Harry repeated, stunned, as he leaned against the fridge door beside him.

“Sorry about la-”

“About last ni-“

They both attempted to speak at the same time only to both stop suddenly. A second awkward silence occurred between them, before Thomas spoke.

“You first,” he offered with a weak grin.

Harry smiled just as weakly.

“Sorry about last night, when Morgan attacked me I wasn’t thinking. I forgot all about you once we started fighting, he was…a bit much. The only reason I managed to escape is because he was too pissed to think straight,”

Through the short confession the friendly smile on Thomas’s lips slowly bled away, leaving him with a tired and guilty look on his face.

“It’s not your fault,” Thomas murmured, reaching up and massaging the bridge of his nose. “Morgan only attacked you because Paul traded information about you to them, in exchange for the recognising that Lara wasn't the cause of the Warden's deaths. The only person in danger was you, during the meetings the accords dictate that no official party is allowed to attack another. A few years back it occurred, and, well… The entire war between the White Council and the Red Court is because of it.”

Harry silently listened and ingested the information. “So I was only there as a… sacrifice?” he asked as the guilt inside him faded away and was replaced with a simmering anger.

“So to speak,” Thomas agreed hesitantly, before a look of indecision crept over his face. “Believe me Harry, I had no idea until Paul began to talk about you, and by then it was too late to do anything, there wasn’t even enough time to warn you before Morgan was out of his seat and running towards you.”

The smell of bacon began to fill the room, only a few servants were left in the kitchen. The servants had begun to creep away the moment that Thomas had entered the room.

“So that guy—Paul—just randomly decided to rat me out to the other wizards?” Harry asked calmly, despite the anger bubbling beneath the surface.

“Seems so,” Thomas agreed without hesitation as his friendly demeanour slipped back onto his face. He brought his hand up to his chin and rubbed his stumble cheeks. “Could I get you to do me a favour today, Harry?” he asked suddenly, meeting Harry’s eyes directly.

“Sorry, I’ve got things I need to do,” Harry said icily before his mind flickered back to something Thomas had said. “You said he gave them information about me, what did he say to them?” he demanded to know.

Thomas held his hands up in a defeated manner and smiled, amused, at Harry. “Unfortunately I have things to do right now. Justine is a bit sick and I’ve decided to make her breakfast in bed.” He paused and gave Harry a winning smile. “I have some things I need to tend to as well, though, if you would deliver a letter to an associate of mine I might have some time later to talk with you over a drink?”

There was a pleading look in Thomas’s eye that had the anger Harry was feeling drain away, leaving only confusion. “Just a letter, right? Drop it off and that’s it?”

Thomas nodded. “You just need to drop it off, though you might like the guy. He’s a bit rough around the edges but has a good sense of humor, and as a plus he doesn’t like the Warden Morgan either.”

Harry gave Thomas a withering glare.

Thomas countered it with a forced-looking smile before he slipped past Harry and began to pile things onto a tray that laid on the bench in the middle of the kitchen. He took the two slices of raisin toast and dropped them onto the tray, before moving it over to the grill. Harry watched on in fascination as Thomas slipped the eggs onto the fruity toast and proceeded to add various condiments onto the top. Harry absently noted that one of the slices was slightly burnt. Apparently Thomas did as well, he frowned slightly.

“Justine has a skewed taste,” Thomas explained over his shoulder as he walked towards one of the fridges in the room, giving Harry a chance to look at the nearly complete ‘breakfast’. He couldn’t identify everything that was on the two piles. He was faintly sure that the green slices resting on top were pickle slices. Harry almost gagged.

“What can you do?” Thomas asked with a shrug as he placed a half-full cup of orange juice onto the tray. He picked the tray up off of the table and faced Harry. “I’ll send one of the maids to you in a few minutes with the letter.”

“I don’t know where to deliver it to,” Harry stated.

“The directions will be on the letter,” Thomas said as he walked past Harry and out of the kitchen.

Harry watched as Thomas disappeared from the kitchen doorway. A heavy feeling settled down on him. As much as Thomas looked like Riddle, they were two very different people. Harry didn’t know if he could stand making something as… interesting as Justine’s breakfast, even if it was for someone he cared about. He’d probably throw up halfway through.

As Harry glanced back to the rest of the kitchen to see if there was anything else left to eat, he spied a slightly familiar, boyish-looking man enter the room. The man’s eyes lingered on the toaster for a few moments before they flickered towards Harry and they made eye contact. Harry was on the receiving end of a mute glare. He shrugged. “It wasn’t me; Thomas came in and took them for Justine.”

The look that the man gave him told Harry the servant didn’t believe him at all. He continued to glare at Harry even as Harry backed up, turned towards the door behind him and walked out of the kitchen. The hair on the back of his neck prickled slightly, and even as he passed out the door and walked out of sight, he could still feel the glare following him through the walls. It only relented after Harry passed by the living room.

Harry’s mind was revolving around the previous night, specifically around a certain Italian ‘Negotiator’. People trying to kill him was fine, it was almost a yearly occurrence. But being ratted out by someone on the other hand aggravated him to no end. If he had been told he was going to be used to take the heat off of Lara he may have felt differently, but as it was, the next time he saw ‘Paul’ his repertoire of spells was going to be put into excessive use. Harry’s lips quirked up in an amused grin; he was especially thinking about a certain stinging hex.

His musings were cut short as he rounded a corner and bumped into someone—a girl, with a fair complexion, brown eyes and matching hair, which were tied back in a loose ponytail, she wore a light blue sundress that swept down her body and stopped just at her knees, leaving her lower legs bare, along with a pair of simple matching sandals upon her feet. She looked familiar, although at first he didn’t make the connection.

“Harry?” the girl asked slowly, her eyes widening in surprise.

Harry blinked in surprise. “Beatrice?” he asked warily.

A happy smile broke out on Beatrice’s face. “Did you sleep well, Harry?”

Harry stared at Beatrice with his mouth ajar for a few moments. “I suppose so,” he finally answered. “Last night was a blur.”

Beatrice nodded before a nervous look passed over her face. After more than a small while Harry couldn’t help but ask, “What’s wrong?”

Beatrice gave Harry an apologetic look and shuffled her feet. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit nervous,” she admitted.

“About what?” Harry asked curiously.

“Last night,” Beatrice began to say, “you said today you’d spend the day with me… I was wondering if you’d like to have a picnic with me?” She smiled shyly up at Harry.

Harry stared at Beatrice’s face for a while before he held himself back from swearing.

“About that…” he began to say with a guilty look upon his face. Beatrice’s face went blank. “Lara asked me to go on an errand today, and I’m supposed to drop something off for Thomas.”

Beatrice nodded acceptingly, but Harry could have sworn that at the mention of Lara’s name an angry glint registered in her eye, if only for a moment.

“But I’ll be done before midday,” Harry said quickly, causing Beatrice to smile happily.

“I’ll make sure to be ready by then,” she murmured to herself. She tilted her head to the side. “Is there anything you’d prefer to eat?” she enquired.

“Anything is fine,” Harry answered after a few moments of thinking.

“Is it acceptable if I bri—” Beatrice began to ask.

“Whatever you want I’ll eat it,” Harry interjected before smiling in an apologetic fashion. “Sorry, I need to hurry up and leave if I want to be back in time for the picnic.”

Beatrice nodded and stepped to the side to allow Harry to go by. As he walked past her she made a small noise and stepped forwards.

“Ah, Harry... do you like mangos?” she asked quietly.

Harry blinked in surprise as Beatrice stepped towards him, but stopped walking and turned to answer. “I like most fruits,” he paused and crinkled his nose, “except pears, can’t stand them.”

Beatrice gave a small laugh and nodded with a smile, before she turned away and began walking towards the kitchen, where Harry had come from.

Harry smiled in a bemused manner as he watched Beatrice walk out of sight. A few moments later he turned away and began walking towards the lobby. As he went he withdrew the small notepad from his pocket, quickly flipped through the first few pages and noted what was on each page; on the first was an address with ‘entrance’ scribbled below it, on the next was a hand-drawn map, with directions written on the back of the previous page.

The last page that had something on it caused Harry to chuckle despite himself; ‘Don’t forget my present’ was highlighted, underlined and circled. Harry glanced up from the notepad and to his surprise found himself a hall away from the lobby. As he walked into the lobby, Harry was mildly surprised to find it empty for all but a single person.

By the doorway a timid girl stood, she wore the standard maid outfit and could not have been more than five feet tall. She had light-brown hair and as she turned to Harry he noticed that it hung down over her face, shielding two large, wide-open grey eyes. For a moment nothing registered in her eyes as they made contact with Harry’s, but a moment later recognition flared and she turned and began to walk towards him with quick steps.

Harry caught sight of an envelope in her hand and began to walk towards her with a slight smile. “Hi, did Thomas send you?” he asked.

The girl nodded and held out the letter in her hand. Harry reached out and to take it but found the girl held on—quite tightly from the look of her hand. Harry gave the girl a look of confusion, which was returned with a doe-eyed look.

“Can I have it please?” Harry asked gently.

He received a nod again but still the maid’s hand didn’t relinquish it. A shiver ran through the maid as if she were afraid, and a moment later Harry couldn’t help but assume that was the case by the look in her eyes. Harry doubted she’d have been able to hide it.

“I’m Harry,” Harry tried with a strained smile. “What’s your name?”

He received a soft murmur of an answer. “Roschilda.”

“That’s a nice name,” Harry complimented kindly. “Can you please let go of the letter? I’m supposed to deliver it for Thomas.”

Ever so slowly Roschilda’s grip on the letter lessened until it slipped from her hand.

“Thank you,” Harry offered lightly with a smile as he glanced down at the letter and read the address printed on top of it. He had as much of an idea of where it was as of where the wizarding section was with the address and map, he mused. He’d have to Apparate to get to Horizon Square, and from there he could probably find an actual map.

“Was there anything else you were supposed to give me?” Harry asked curiously when Roschilda remained still in front of him. A quick shake of the head was the answer he received.

“I’m going to go then,” Harry explained as he side-stepped around the brunette.

Roschilda nodded again, but remained in place.

“Bye then,” Harry offered as he walked out of the front doors.

Harry idly shut the door behind him and made his way around the side to a more secluded area. It only occurred to him a few seconds later that he would have been as fine if he had just stayed inside and gone into an empty room , he just tended to forget that the Raith’s mansion was not protected by any apparition wards, the way most were.

As soon as Harry turned the corner he disappeared with a token Apparation pop. A moment later Harry felt his body jerk as an unknown force pulled on him.

---

 

“Please move off of the catchpad,” a dull male drone caught Harry’s attention immediately as the world swam into view. With an unceremonious shove he was pushed forwards.

Harry leaned to the side just in time to avoid a stream of people appearing around him. The room he was in was huge. There were people everywhere walking towards one of three doors. While there were quite a few people in the room there wasn’t too much to look at. White slates of marble stood out against the dull grey of the concrete floor, though they were worn dirty by the footprints of the visitors. In the middle of the room a stairwell went down into the ground, and from the sound of it, Harry could hear trains and the bustling of a crowd. Fireplaces lined the walks as well, though they didn’t seem to be in use.

A moment later Harry was proven wrong as an emerald burst of flame erupted from inside of one, and out stepped a man holding a small frightened-looking child in his arms. Behind them the flames continued as three more people appeared: a woman and two disgruntled-looking boys, neither of who looked to be more than ten years old.

As soon as the last of them appeared they made their way out of the building, just like everyone else.

Harry soon found himself walking out of the second-side exit along with the crowd.

The street wasn’t too packed, in fact there were very few people on it. Shops lined the street for as far as he could see. Most of them were specialized in something; a few blocks down a big pink sign stood out, reading ‘Witches’ Wardrobe’, and a few more down another sign read ‘Magical Men’s Robes.’

Harry began walking east along the avenue and withdrew the notebook from his pocket. The crude map didn’t do much to help him figure out where he was. There were only a few locations noted on it and as far as he could see there wasn’t a bank, a bookstore or a tavern in sight. Despite himself Harry kept walking, he reasoned that eventually he would be able to find one of the places, and from there he could—or he could just ask someone.

“Excuse me,” Harry awkwardly said as a brown-cloaked man walked by, “do you know where the bank is, or ‘The Bludger’ is?”

The man snorted and continued to walk by, ignoring Harry.

Harry stared after the man with a withering glare.

“You’re looking for the bank?” a jovial voice called out from behind Harry. “You’re going the wrong way, my friend.”

Harry turned around and found himself looking at a smiling man who was approaching him. The man couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, and had greyish brown hair and blue eyes.

“I and my associate,” he gestured behind him to a man as short as he was, “were just heading down to the bank to collect our winnings from the annual shop keepers awards!” he explained enthusiastically.

“Ah, yeah,” Harry began to say after a few moments of staring at the shorter man with surprise. “I need to get a cheque changed into wizarding money.”

“Well then, follow us and we will show you the way!” the bright-eyed man exclaimed before turning to his friend. “Come on Jerry, I’ve been waiting for this ever since I opened up my store!”

‘Jerry’ didn’t seem to share his friends’ enthusiasm. “Just be on with it, I can’t leave my shop unattended to for long or else those mangy hags will try and break in.”

“Yes, yes of course, it won’t take long!”

Harry could only stare in bemusement as the shorter man began walking back the way Harry had come.

“I’m Roger by the way,” the first man explained over his shoulder. “Roger of Annalies Pet Store!”

The man fell silent expectantly.

“Sorry, I’m not from around here, this is my first visit,” Harry said.

“Ah, yes, my mistake,” Roger said. “Of course you would be if you didn’t know where the bank was.”

“Ignore him,” Jerry said in a gruff voice. “He’s an idiot.”

Roger didn’t retort, the short man seemed to be lost in his own world as he began to hum to himself. As they neared the end of the street Roger turned into the last building, which Harry quickly recognised as the place where he had Apparated to.

“I just came out of here,” Harry explained in surprise.

“Yes, yes, you came out of the wrong side it seems,” Roger said happily as he continued walking from one end of the building to the other. “A common mistake indeed, much quicker this way though.” He continued to ramble on as they slipped their way past the exiting masses.

As soon as Harry left the Apparition point he was surprised to see a wooden building right in front of him with ‘The Bludger’ plastered across it.

“The tavern?” Harry ventured a guess.

“Right you are—I forgot your name?” Roger turned around with an apologetic look upon his face.

“I’m Harry,” Harry offered. “Where is the bank?”

“Right next to it,” Jerry explained along with a pointed finger. “If the knuckle head would stop fussing around we’d be there already.”

Roger looked slightly abashed but his mood quickly picked up again. “Well it was nice meeting you Harry! I look forward to you visiting my shop—remember Annalies Pet Store—the one with the big sign!” he exclaimed with a bright smile and stuck his hand out to Harry.

Harry grasped the shorter man’s hand and shook it, or rather was shaken by Roger’s enthusiasm.

“Bye,” Jerry said shortly as he turned away and began walking to the bank. Roger giddily followed after him, and he paused after a few feet and turned back and waved at Harry with a big smile on his face.

Harry waved back hesitantly before turning his attention to the notebook grasped in his hand. He had a pretty good idea where the bookstore was, but before that he had to take a quick detour to the bank. Even if the thought hadn’t occurred to him by itself, Lara had circled the bank repeatedly. Harry didn’t know whether to be amused or offended in the end.

He settled on amusement as he walked towards the entrance of the bank.

The bank itself was fairly large, a bit longer than the tavern, which included rooms on the upper floors and stretched from one end of the block to the middle; it was made entirely out of white marble, but whereas the Gringotts bank in London was pure white, this one had waves of discolouration seeping through in patterns.

The bank took up more than a fair share of the block; compared to the largest shops around it was still twice the size. The interior was different to what Harry had been expecting; for one thing it was only half the size on the inside it was on the outside. Down the centre of the building rows of counters were spread out. They all stood separate—and a few dozen down Harry could see Roger and Jerry talking with one of the bank staff, a middle-aged man dressed in a brown robe.

There were a few people standing around inside the bank, some were patiently waiting, and others were staring across the rows of tellers like hawks. Harry approached one of the more reasonable-looking of them.

“Excuse me,” Harry addressed a bored-looking woman. “I need to get some money changed, what should I do?”

The woman glanced at him once before answering, “Just approach a staff member and tell them what you want to do, it isn’t hard.”

“Right, thanks,” Harry said before turning away.

It probably wouldn’t have been hard, except for the fact that none of the counters were free, and there were at least a dozen people waiting as well. Down the other end of the bank an old woman began to stand up from in front of a counter and the other people in the bank began walking towards it. At the same time as they reached the counter, and one slipped into the seat ahead of the rest, another man stood up less than four stalls away from Harry. He took a step forward before stopping and turning to the lady beside him.

“Do you wan—” he began to ask before he was coolly interrupted.

“Thank you but I am waiting on someone.”

Harry gave a quick smile and made his way to the counter. None of the other people seemed to mind as he took the seat, at least the ones who hadn’t rushed to the other end of the bank; those were glaring daggers at him.

“Welcome to Baccus,” the man at the counter said without an ounce of enthusiasm. “How can I help you today?”

“I want to change a Muggle cheque into wizard money,” Harry explained as he withdrew the folded cheque from inside the notebook and held it out to the man in front of him.

The man took it with a detached interest, that is until he read what was on it. The man’s eyes widened slightly and a low whistle escaped him. “Got paid, huh?” A moment later he dismissed his own question. “Never mind, doesn’t matter, what’s your account number?”

“I don’t have an account,” Harry explained awkwardly.

The man couldn’t help but snort. “And you’re going to be carrying this much around how?”

Harry shrugged his shoulders. “Can I open an account?”

“Normally that would be the best thing to do,” the man agreed, “but you aren’t from around here right? It’d be impractical for you, know what I mean?”

Harry nodded unsurely.

“I’d recommend you use a MagiCard, it’s a small card that most shops in the square accept, much easier than carrying around a bag of gold, and safer.”

“I’d rather take the bag of gold,” Harry stated with a grin.

The man shrugged. “It’s your money, but I should warn you that clearing a Muggle cheque takes a few hours.”

Harry frowned. “And the card thing?”

“Instant, no wait time besides a few documents,” the clerk explained with a smile.

“Gimme the card then,” Harry decided after a few seconds.

“Right you are.” The man smiled as he pulled out a sheet of paper from under the desk. “Now just fill this out and you’ll be good to go.”

Ten minutes later Harry left the bank with a still warm card in his hand along with a map of the square, generously provided free of charge by the bank staff. The map itself was in the form of a folded brochure. It opened up into an animated map of the square. The main walkway vaguely resembled one of the impossible staircase pictures Harry had seen in an art gallery that his class had been taken to see on a school fieldtrip when he had been nine. The only difference was that at points the path seemed to overlap with itself.

Harry’s eyes scanned the map, looking for the closest thing he could find that interested him. He quickly dismissed ‘Magical Remedies for the Magically Challenged’ and ‘Happy Go Fun Time’ from the candidates.

“Willy Wonka’s Wizards Shop,” Harry read aloud. He had, at the first moment, been sure he had misread. But there it was in purple. It was close as well, just below the bank and around the corner from him, if the flashing dot was anything to go by.

The front of the store was flashy, bright purple with animated statues hanging off the walls.

“Come buy some chocolate!” a puppet moose shouted from the wall. ‘Chill out with an ice pop!’ a wooden penguin squealed.

There were a few young children staring at the animated statues; some with glee on their faces, a few with a look of wonder, and one or two with bored expressions. Harry shook his head in amusement before he walked into the store.

On the map it showed that the shop was almost as large as the bank. At first Harry didn’t really believe it from the size of the shop front. But once he passed into the shop itself the sight of the shelves that seemed to go on as far as he could see made it apparent that it was the case. Shelves of sweets—most of which he did not recognize. A large brazen sign was stuck to the right wall; it read ‘Imported’. Harry could definitely recognize some of the items on those shelves, or at least a few of them.

At the front of each line of shelves a rack holding miniature satchels hung.

‘Noah’s Candy Bag: Two of each candy!’

It conveniently lacked a price tag. Not that it really mattered to Harry at that point. The card in his hand was begging to be used.

The bags themselves ranged in colour; from white and black to rainbow glitter. On the bags there were small stickers stuck on the flap. Some read Gummies, others read sour, a few read Italian, Bulgarian, Australian. A particularly bemusing one was Babyfood.

For a moment Harry’s eyes scanned the bags before he found one he liked. ‘England’, it read on the front. Harry picked the brown England sweets-filled bag off of the rack before turning his attention to the rows upon rows of candy.

Harry didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually he was at the front of the store again with an extra bag in his hand. At the very end of the shop they had a section dubbed ‘Magically Mundane Sweets’. The shelves had contained some lollies that could almost pass off as normal. Bubblegum that changed the hue of your tongue, which would wash off in water. Whitening Jelly Paste, ‘cleans your teeth and tastes like strawberry!’ Briefly he toyed with getting it for Hermione before dismissing it on the off chance he’d get a rant about the dangers of magical dentistry.

The list went on. Harry’s favorite was probably the Blueberry Breather, which effects were limited to giving your breath, shockingly, the smell and taste of blueberries.

Afterwards, Harry found himself strolling down the shopping area towards one of the largest stores in the alley. The windows held that dulled and dusty look that all bookshops of significance seemed to have. It was probably a charm of some sort, Harry thought as he entered the store. The same charm probably created the musty smell that filled his nostrils, and dimmed the lights to make the high stack of bookshelves more ominous. Really, there was no way a bookshop like this one had these effects as some sort of natural phenomenon.

Harry approached the desk, where a large, tall witch with a classic pock-marked face was finishing her purchasing. With a small murmur of thanks, the witch departed and the shopkeeper beckoned for Harry to come forward. Harry did so, if a tad cautiously. In his life, he had found two types of old wizards. There were those who aged gracefully, growing more and more impressive and giving out a sense of wisdom and power as they grew older. Albus Dumbledore and Ollivander could be placed in this category, wizards of unparalleled wisdom. Then there were those who didn’t age gracefully. These witches and wizards hunched over as they grew older, their skin wrinkling up like dry leather and their voices growing wheezy. These wizards were the type to gossip on the street-corner, bemoaning the wizard youth and reminiscing on their own young days. The shopkeeper was a wizard of the latter category, a hunchbacked, wrinkled husk of a man with dull eyes.

“Greetings, young sir,” the wizard wheezed out. “How may I, Alfred Scerri, help you today?”

“I’m here to pick up a parcel for a friend,” Harry explained with a polite smile.

Harry handed over the small receipt that Lara had given him. The old wizard took it with a gnarled hand and glanced down at it as he hobbled to his backroom. However, the moment he laid eyes on it he stilled. Harry couldn’t see his face but the hunched, bent shoulders of the wizard were quivering. Just as Harry was about to speak up, the shopkeeper moved into action with movements that Harry had deemed physically impossible for somebody that age. Within moments, a small book-shaped parcel wrapped in brown paper was in his hands.

“Was there anything else, young sir?” the wizard offered.

“I’ll look around,” Harry said with a smile.

After buying a few more books that looked particularly interesting, plus a few to satisfy the list that he had been given, Harry practically fled from the bookshop. There had been a few moments of outrage when he found out that the supposedly useful MagiCard that the bank had given him had a inflated interest rate of at least 200% per month. Harry had half the mind to go back into the bank and demand his money back.

In the end, Harry had decided to let it go—for now, at least. He needed the card for now and he had enough money in the bank to cover the inflated interest rates. Still, Harry didn’t like being cheated and made a firm mental note to revisit that particular teller at a later date. Now, he only had two more things to look into here at the alley. The first was post. There had to be some way to contact Ron and Hermione and inform them that yes, he was still alive and no, Ron couldn’t have his broom. Unfortunately, things worked a little different in the States than they did back home, and not for the better.

“What?” Harry echoed in disbelief. He gave the man a scrutinizing look, wondering if he was being screwed over again. “What do you mean ‘outlawed’?”

“The use of owls or birds to deliver messages was deemed as unnecessarily cruel on the poor animals by the Congress of United Warlocks,” the balding wizard recited in his nasally-high voice. “Therefore, it was classed as an Article 93 crime by the MALE—that’s the Magical Agency of Law Enforcement—three years ago.”

“So what do you use for international post?” Harry asked incredulously.

“Well, you give us the letter and we put it on one of our monthly expeditions to the Romanian Dragon Reserves,” the wizard informed him. “We have a large business centred there so it’s a regular route. From there, it can be transferred to the local mail agency and forwarded to the recipient. It usually takes about a month or so.”

“Never mind then,” Harry muttered.

He strolled out of the information shop with a pronounced scowl on his face. He’d just have to find another way. Maybe Lara could help him. Harry continued walking down the alley, glancing at the shops and looking for something that might suit his last order of business. Find Lara a present. But what did you get an extremely beautiful, graceful, tantalizing and, dare he say, sexy, seductress?

His eyes slid across a small, official-looking building and he stopped. A large sign with brazen letters stared back at him. WARD: Wizarding Auctions and Repossession Department. That caught Harry’s interest. After a second of internal debate he decided to give it a try; both on the chance that he might find something Lara liked and because of his own innate curiosity. When he entered, he was greeted by a young witch, wearing glasses, some official-looking robes and a bored expression.

“Welcome to WARD: Wizarding Auctions and the Repossession Department. This department is heavily involved in the repossession and sale of artefacts, both magical and non-magical, from deceased, incarcerated, bankrupt or otherwise incapacitated individuals. Half of our proceeds are delivered to the Kindness for United States Orphans fund,” she droned, obviously a well-recited speech. “Please wander around our ground floor. If you are interested in larger items, or items in bulk, please consult with our staff for a catalogue.”

“Um…thanks,” Harry said weakly. “I’ll just look around.”

The witch acted as if she hadn’t heard him, slumping back in her seat and burying her nose in a magazine. Harry eyed her strangely but shrugged and glanced around the room. There were a lot of items on display along the walls, some of which he was familiar with and others he had never seen before. He began to examine them more closely. There was a small, spindly little silver thing that Harry was tempted to buy if only because he knew Dumbledore had one, but he had no idea what it was. Finally, after a few minutes of browsing, Harry came along the perfect gift.

It was a foe glass, created in the visage of an old-English style handheld mirror. The surface was relatively grimy but Harry thought that after a bit of a polish, it would be a beautiful gift. Even Lara, with her temperamental nature, should be appeased. Well, at least Harry hoped she would. After a quick purchase from the bored witch, Harry left the shop and paused at the end of the alley. He frowned, patting his pockets. He still had that letter to deliver. After twirling on his feet, Harry Disapparated from the alley with a sharp crack.

---

 

The office Harry was looking for was in a building in the middle of Chicago. It wasn’t much of a building compared to many of those around it; in fact, it was downright unimpressive. But still it had a security guard on the bottom floor. The security guard had grey hair and looked like the kind that would stare at a glass pane for hours upon end without noticing the things happening around them. At the other end of the building was a broken elevator with a yellow stripped banner over the front. Beside it a bronze plaque was stuck to the wall, and to the far side was a staircase.

The moment Harry pushed open the door to the building he received a sharp glare from the aged guard but it was quickly replaced with an impassive stare. Harry gave what he hoped to be a friendly smile as he walked past the security booth and towards the plaque on the wall. He absently noted that the elevator was indeed worthy of having an out-of-order sign; the doors seemed to be bent out slightly as if something had exploded within it.

Harry dismissed the elevator and scanned the list of names on the plaque. As his eyes ran over the list they brushed over a peculiar etching and came to a halt.

‘H. Dresden : Wizard’

Harry stared at the neatly engraved name for more than a few moments in wonder. After the moment passed he began to briefly pat his jacket pockets down, and soon pulled out the envelope. He quickly compared the name on the envelope to the name on the plaque.

A few questions had instantly popped up in Harry’s mind—how could H. Dresden get away with advertising what he was so blatantly? Why did the American wizards let him get away with it? He quickly pushed the questions to the back of his mind and stuffed the thin envelope back into his jacket pocket.

A second glance to the plaque told Harry the recipient of his delivery was on the fifth floor. He could feel the stare of the security guard on the back of his neck even as he walked towards the staircase and began to ascend it. As he scaled the staircase he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the newest ‘curiosity’. As his mind ran its course Harry almost found himself climbing past the fifth floor.

The first door that crossed Harry’s vision had ‘Consulting firm’ emblazoned under its name—he doubted it was the right one, even with the buzz of chatter beyond the door. A little past it another door, almost unnoticeable compared to the first.

HARRY DRESDEN-WIZARD was spelled out on the frosted glass.

Harry couldn’t help but stop and after a moment passed he found himself smiling in a vague undefined amusement. He reached forwards and grasped the doorhandle. For a moment a tingle ran through his hand, almost prompting him to let go of the door, but the next second it was gone.

A second thought had him let go of the doorhandle and instead rap his knuckle against the wooden frame.

“Come in,” a gruff voice called out from inside.

Harry turned the handle of the door and entered.

The office beyond was surprisingly much like what Harry had expected, neither particularly tidy nor was it messy. To the side there was a small stand with some flyers sticking out. ‘Magic for Dummies’, ‘I’m a Wizard—Ask Me How’ stood out at the top of the stacks. Harry was quickly losing his smile. He was beginning to feel like an idiot. He hadn’t for a second entertained the idea that H. Dresden—or Harry Dresden—could have been a fake. A few cabinets lined the sides of the room along with an old-fashioned closet, and at the opposite end a desk was placed.

A man sat hunched over the desk, facing Harry directly. He had slightly scruffy dark hair and a rugged look. His lower face was peppered with stubble and had a slightly gaunt look to it. He wore a coat—a duster if Harry was to put a name to it—that almost made Harry snigger. As the man glanced up from the paper work on his desk and stood up the urge to snigger dropped away.

The man was tall, very tall.

“Harry Dresden?” Harry asked without a quiver of unease showing in his voice.

Harry Dresden nodded, but held a suspicious look in his eye. “What can I do for you?”

“Harry Potter,” Harry introduced himself with a slight smile and reached forwards, offering his hand.

A vaguely amused smile met his name and hand. After a few moments of no moves on the wizards’ part, Harry was about to pull his hand back. But before he could a strong hand grasped his own and shook it once. Harry couldn’t help but notice that the man in front of him hadn’t met his eyes for more than a second before glancing away.

“Call me Dresden, it should be easier that way,” Dresden said as he released Harry’s hand and dropped back into the chair behind him, before motioning for Harry to take the seat opposite him. “Now what can I do for you, Potter?” A second later he added on, “Nice scar by the way.”

Harry ignored the remark and decided to delve straight into the matter. “I have a letter for you from Thomas Raith, he asked me to deliver it to you personally.”

Whatever friendliness that may have been displayed on Dresden’s face drained away at the mention of Harry's ‘employer’ and suspicion took its place. “Pass it over,” was all that Dresden said; it seemed to cover the gist of it. Unfortunately it wasn’t all, as of the moment Harry had taken notice of the man’s occupation.

“By the way,” Harry began to say, “I have a few questions for you.” He plucked the envelope out of his pocket and handed it over the desk to Dresden. It was snatched out of his fingers after a moment of hesitation.

“Like what?” Dresden demanded flatly as he tore open the end of the envelope and pulled out the letter from inside.

“Like whether you’re an actual wizard or not,” Harry began to say before Dresden held up his hand for silence.

After a few moments Dresden scrunched up the letter in his hand and threw it absentmindedly at a paper basket a few meters back from the desk. It missed, bouncing against the wall and missing again the basket by a few centimeters. Harry heard Dresden murmur a curse under his breath.

Dresden turned back to Harry. “Yes and no.”

“To what?” Harry asked in mild confusion.

“Yes to I’m a wizard and no to Thomas.”

Harry nodded mutely before his eyes passed over a flyer on Dresden’s desk. Idly he reached forwards and picked it up off the table; a glance at the front of it had him read the title out loud. “I’m a Wizard ask me how?” Harry glanced up and grinned at Dresden. “What do you tell people in these things?”

Dresden shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. “Evocation, Circle magic and how I find lost things, common stuff.”

“And they let you advertise that you’re a wizard in public?” Harry asked, leaning forwards slightly.

Dresden shrugged his shoulders again. “Not much that they can do about it. There isn’t any rule that outright says that people aren’t allowed to say they’re a wizard.”

Harry stared calmly at Dresden for a few moments as he mulled over what had been said. “Evocation, that’s like fire and stuff right?”

Dresden’s eyes still refused to meet his; Harry found that when they came close he himself looked away despite himself. “Fire, wind, flashy stuff,” Dresden said with a slight grin.

“You’re a White Council Wizard?” Harry found himself leaning away from Dresden at that moment.

Dresden’s posture which had been relaxing slightly began rigid in a flash.

The dark-haired man shrugged his shoulders. “There isn’t much choice of what to belong to, is there?”

Harry nodded slightly. “I don’t suppose you know a ‘Morgan’ do you?” he asked with only the slightest amount of distaste.

Dresden snorted.

“The Warden Commander? Yeah, we don’t really get along well.” The tone of the gaunt man’s voice seemed to convey a dislike more than his words could.

Harry smiled slightly at that. “I can understand that, trying to kill people isn’t really the best way to make friends, is it?”

The suspicious look in Dresden’s eyes appeared again, this time in full force. Harry suddenly found himself on edge.

“How would you know about that?” Dresden asked slowly, as if it took him some effort to.

Harry felt silent for a few moments as he mulled over his possible answers. Straight out saying that he had been attacked by Morgan wasn’t a great idea—especially if Dresden belonged to the same White Council which the Wardens were a part of. But on the other hand there seemed to be no love lost between the two by Dresden’s own admission.

“We had a run in the other night,” Harry admitted.

“You’re a wizard?” Dresden asked with mild scepticism.

Harry nodded and for a moment considered showing his wand, but decided against it.

“What are you doing with the White Court then?” Dresden asked in an even tone.

“I didn’t have much choice,” Harry grudgingly admitted, before he noticed the look in Dresden’s eye. “Not a thrall,” he added on, unfortunately it seemed to cause Dresden to become more on edge.

“What’s your excuse then?” Dresden asked flatly. “Fell in love?” The sarcasm couldn’t be lost.

Harry snorted. “Blackmailed actually.”

“A better excuse,” Dresden admitted grudgingly. “But that they have something to blackmail you with—“

“They threatened to kill my friends,” Harry answered irritably.

“That’s a better reason than most,” Dresden conceded, finally relaxing some. “You know there are people out there who’d be willing to help you out.”

Harry frowned and shook his head. “What does a Wizard do professionally?” he asked turning away from the subject on hand.

“Find things mostly,” Dresden answered. “Some police work on the side when they don’t know where to go, and a few special cases which I’d as soon drop than get paid for.” The tall man glanced towards the clock hanging on the wall. “Look, as much as I’d like to talk I’m hungry and am about to go get a bite to eat.”

Dresden made no move to get up at all, Harry noticed, in fact the way he had been hunched over the desk when he had entered seemed to suggest he was going to be stuck in the office for a while.

Harry mulled over it for a few moments before he spoke again. “Can I join you, my treat?”

Dresden looked up, blinked, and after a few seconds smiled in an almost evil way. “Do you like steak sandwiches?”

---

 

“One second,” Dresden grunted out before he stuck his head out the window of the multicoloured—mostly blue—Beetle.

Harry gripped the seat under him as Dresden reversed and a whiplashed second later accelerated forwards, cutting off of the main road and into a side alley that was too small for any conventional car to fit through. As soon as they entered the alleyway Dresden slowed down, but it didn’t stop Harry from holding onto the seat under him for dear life.

“In the office,” Dresden began to speak, “you mentioned something about seeing Morgan yesterday; what happened?” He glanced to Harry as he finished before his eyes flicked back to the road, just in time to nudge the steering wheel and avoid a small pothole.

Harry glanced sideways at Dresden. “Thomas’s father asked me to escort him to a meeting to clear something up with them and it ended with Morgan attacking me because he thought I killed one of the Wardens.”

Dresden was silent, and the car slowly rolled to a stop.

“Did you?” he asked quietly as he turned to face Harry.

“No, I didn’t,” Harry answered. “They attacked a woman and I defended her not knowing who she was, but in the end they were killed by the fires that they had cast.” His tone left little more to say.

“She was a one of the White Court?” Dresden asked calmly as the car began to move again, weaving around the city blocks through the alleyways.

“She was,” Harry answered with a grimace.

“I guess that’s where the blackmai—“ Dresden began to say before he suddenly stopped talking—and stopped the car.

Harry grimaced and glared at Dresden out of the corner of his eye. Dresden’s eyes were flickering all over the dashboard of the car, everywhere, almost as if he was looking for something.

“Hell’s bells,” he hissed out angrily, “it had to be today of all days!” He jerked his head towards Harry. “Get out of the car!”

Harry didn’t need telling twice, especially as he felt the seat under him writher. He yanked his seatbelt off and kicked open the door—for a moment he thought he heard a noise of complaint from Dresden, but then a moment later Dresden’s door had been kicked open.

“What is it, Dresden?!” Harry demanded to know as he watched the interior of the car begin to discolour. His eyes caught sight of a his knapsack, full of the books he had purchased he reached in and yanked the bag out.

“Mold demons,” came Dresden’s answer. “I knew I should have done my spring cleaning,” he said with a tone of dry humour.

“Demons?” Harry echoed in disbelief.

“Mold demons,” Dresden corrected as he briskly walked to the back of his car.

“Why the hell do you have mold demons in your car?!”

“Guess someone wanted to tell me to start cleaning better,” Dresden grumbled as he pried open the boot of the small car. A moment later he withdrew a rune-etched staff out of the boot. Whatever panic Harry might have had was gone as a moment of wonder overtook him.

“You have a staff?”

“Yes—you said you were a wizard as well, right? Help me get rid of them before they finish eating my car,” Dresden snapped out, slamming the base of the staff down on the ground; the runes illuminated vibrantly. A furious look was plastered on Dresden’s face as he surveyed the car in front of him.

Harry glanced to each end of the alley even as he withdrew his wand; the main streets were nowhere in sight for either end—probably why the ‘demons’ chose to attack them there. “Are you sure they’re demons?” Harry asked sceptically.

At the same time that Harry asked Dresden brandished his staff at the infested car. A moment later an inhuman wail of pain erupted, sounding like a cross between a mandrake and the gurgle of dirty water emptying down a drain. Even as the wail echoed through the air a sludge-like substance poured out of the car and formed into a pulsating blob. A moment later it stilled, only for an innumerable amount of tentacles to erupt from it towards Dresden.

They barely made it within a meter.

"Ventas servitas!" Dresden shouted out as he slammed the base of his staff against the ground again. A gale-force wind erupted out of his staff and slammed into the mold demon; it resisted for a moment before the winds tore into it and sent it flying backwards.

“Impressive,” Harry grumbled out as he surveyed the smears on the alley walls that the creature had become.

“It isn’t gone yet,” Dresden said through a grimace as he surveyed his car.

“How do we kill it?” Harry asked slowly as he stared at the withering masses of mold that was beginning to reform.

“Got any bleach?” Dresden asked dryly before he shook his head. “You can’t kill demons, you can only destroy the body they manifest in and send them back to the Nevernever.”

Harry rolled his wand between his fingers. “No,” he admitted. “But I have the next best thing.” He flicked the tip of his wand towards the largest mass of the creature and murmured, “Scourgify.”

He didn’t really expect it to work at all. So he wasn’t prepared for the violent wailing sound that followed as the fungus and mold fizzed and bubbled, as the spell broke down the substance holding the demon together. Harry’s grip on the wand tightened and his heart sped up as he targeted another blob of mold and uttered the spell again.

“Handy little thing,” Dresden mused as he watched Harry erase the last vestiges off the possessed mold. A chuckle escaped him as he spotted a small grouping trying to slip away unnoticed, only to be erased as the green-eyed wizard targeted it.

Harry lowered his wand as the last of the mold vanished. He had taken a bit of an extra precaution as well. The next person who used the alleyway would probably wonder why there was a ten foot patch that was cleaner than a public toilet.

“You said it couldn’t die—and that once the body was destroyed it’d go back to the Nevernever; does that mean it was a... Sidhe?” Harry asked slowly as he turned to face Dresden.

Dresden’s attention seemed to be focused on his car. A wounded look was on the man’s face as he stared at the damage inside the car; it looked like it had taken home for ten years in a garbage lot.

“No, demons and Sidhe come from different regions of the Nevernever, I’d recommend not comparing the two unless you feel like having them on your bad side.” Dresden’s dry humor seemed to hold up even in the face of his busted car. The tall man gave an exaggerated sigh. “Looks like I’ll have to take a raincheck for that steak sandwich.” He had a wistful tone. “I need to find who summoned the demon and beat the living piss out of them.”

Harry blinked and nodded; they had covered most of what he had wanted to talk about on the ride between the office and the mold demons. He shook his head and grinned after a moment. “Now I have an actual reason to tell Thomas why you said ‘No’.”

Dresden looked at Harry as if he had only just seen him, before he shook his head and smiled slightly.

“You can find your way back to wherever, right?” Dresden asked as he stalked toward the Beetle and delicately placed his staff back inside—before slamming the boot hard enough to rock the car. “You’re great with cleaning up stuff. But I don’t think you’d have fun chasing this guy down, and I don’t really trust you to watch my back, no offence.”

Harry nodded understandingly as the older man slipped into his car and shut the door beside him. Dresden turned back and gave a light wave to Harry before he reached over and pulled the passenger door shut. Harry’s glare let up and a snicker came forth. He had been about to offer to try and repair the damage the mold demons had done but it seemed his chance was gone. Harry glanced up to the sky. From what little he could see the sun had begun to fall from its midday rise.

A glance back and forth told Harry it was clear, and with a fixed destination in mind he turned on his heel.

---

 

A wave of clean air washed over Harry as he appeared in his room on the upper floor of the Raith mansion. For his first encounter with ‘demons’, the battle had been surprisingly easy, if tedious and disgusting. Though he doubted he’d ever mention it in polite conversation with his friends back in England, he was grateful that Hermione had been thoughtful enough to drill the incantation for the Cleaning Charm into his head during his second year.

Without a second thought he threw his over-packed bags onto his bed. He was also grateful that the mold demons hadn’t been able to get to the books, they had cost a fair bit of coin and time. Though, he grudgingly mused, he was thankful for the opportunity to meet a ‘Wizard’ that hadn’t tried to kill him.

The irony didn’t escape him that Dresden’s first name was Harry.

A light chuckle escaped Harry as he strolled out of his room. For now he’d take a small break and find Beatrice. He’d have to apologize to her for being late. His mind briefly lingered on the topic of the Mental ‘Arts’ and whether or not the brunette would allow him to practice on her.

As Harry passed the library, he caught a glimpse of something from the corner of his eye through the slightly ajar door. After a moment of consideration he took a slight detour and stopped by the door, gently prying it open and glancing inside.

Harry stared, and stared, and stared a bit more for good measure.

Inside the library the tables and chairs had been pushed to the sides of the room and a light matting had been rolled out. He watched as a decidedly feminine figure moved upon the mat in what Harry assumed to be a dance. He had recognized the tied-back mane of hair almost instantly as Inari’s.

The young Raith daughter wore a full-bodied black camisole which cut off at mid-thigh. It took Harry a few moments to realize that he was staring, and a few more to tear his eyes away from the energetically moving Raith daughter. Harry caught sight of a pair of plugs in her ears and rightfully assumed that Inari was... dancing to some music.

Harry slipped into the room and closed the doors behind him, leaving them slightly ajar. Inari had yet to turn around and spot him, so Harry contented himself with standing beside the wall and watching her dance. It wasn’t his fault that his eyes wandered, he mused. Not that he doubted any hot-blooded male would blame him. The not-so-subtle curve where her hips and legs met was where his gaze was tempted to look mostly, but it tried its best not to stray from the upper portions of Inari’s body.

It seemed whatever dance routine Inari had been doing was finally ending. Her seemingly unchoreographed movements were brought to a complete stop and she padded down her front before groping at something. A moment later she turned towards the door as she reached up and plucked the headphones out of her ears.

Inari’s eyes passed over Harry without a thought before her head suddenly snapped back with a look of shock and surprise—and dare Harry say it, embarrassment—emblazoned on her face.

“Harry?!” Inari yelped out, her eyes wide with surprise.

Harry raised his hand and gave a silent wave, though he assumed the grin on his face said enough.

Inari’s face flushed red.

“How long have you been watching?” she asked as she folded her arms across her chest.

Harry chortled. “A few minutes,” he offered as his grin melted down to an amused smile. “Nice… Outfit” He trailed off and gestured to Inari’s body.

The result was her folding her arms tighter across her chest with an indignant look upon her face.

“You could have said something,” Inari complained sullenly. “Now I look like an idiot!”

“I enjoyed the show,” Harry admitted. “It was very... artistic.”

Inari glared at Harry for a few moments before her scowl faltered and a small abashed smile lit up on her lips. “Pervert,” she accused offhandedly. A few moments later her attitude perked up. “So, what’d you think?” she asked, taking a few steps forwards into Harry’s personal space.

“It was artistic?” Harry repeated, nonplussed.

Inari stared suspiciously up into Harry’s before eventually nodding to herself and accepting Harry’s statement. “I see,” she mumbled under her breath before smiling innocently. “Harry,” she began to say, leaning ever so closer, “would you do me a favour?” She stuck out her bottom lip and fluttered her eyelashes.

Harry stared down into Inari’s eyes trying to figure out what was coming next. After spending more than a few seconds of searching the periwinkle blue eyes for any kind of thought, he absently wished that he was able to read her mind.

Harry finally leaned backwards. “What?”

Inari gestured behind her at the misplaced furniture. “Help me clean up?” she asked in an adorable fashion.

“Sure,” Harry agreed immediately as an idea struck him. “If you’ll let me try something on you in return, no questions asked.”

Harry’s suspicious stare was suddenly mimicked by Inari, along with an accusing glint.

“Nothing quite like you’re thinking about,” Harry corrected Inari before she even voiced her thoughts. The suspicious glint remained for a few more moments before Inari suddenly nodded and turned upon the spot. Harry glared at the back of Inari’s head indignantly as her tied-back hair smacked against him lightly.

Harry followed suit and began to help clearing up the Library, starting with the mat on the floor and eventually the tables, chairs and lounges.

“You didn’t move this stuff by yourself, did you?” Harry asked through a grunt as he moved his favorite seat back into position by himself, painstakingly moving it a few centimeters each time.

Inari shrugged her shoulders lightly and smiled impishly at Harry from her place on the floor. “I asked some of the servants to help me move the stuff out of the way.”

Harry suddenly stopped shifting his seat and stood up straight. “Why the hell do your dancing crap in here when you could easily do it in your room?” he asked flatly.

Inari shrugged her shoulders again and glanced away from Harry. “I usually do that…but recently I’ve wanted to do some of the dancing in here…so I asked them to help me make room today and... They were only too happy to help really,” the black-haired girl explained with a whimsical smile.

Harry stared at Inari for a few moments longer before he shook his head and chuckled.

“Course they were,” he murmured under his breath as he gave a final heave and shifted the heavy piece of furniture back. “You know, you could help,” Harry stated flatly as he slouched down against the seat in front of him.

Inari’s eyebrows almost met her hairline.

“You are aware I’m a girl, right?” she asked slowly, crinkling her nose in distaste. “I don’t have muscles like you do, I couldn’t even lift that seat, it weighs a ton.” She slipped her legs out from under her and briefly stood up before she plopped down onto the cushioned chair and curled her legs back under her. “Thanks,” Inari said as she turned her head to Harry and gave a bright smile. She leaned forwards and pecked him on the cheek lightly.

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh and straightened up. He walked over to the group of wooden and thankfully light chairs which were scattered around the main table of the library, and dragged one over to Inari. He placed it in front of her and sat down in it, facing the young black-haired girl.

Inari blinked in surprise. “What are you doing?” she asked with a perplexed expression on her face.

“Remember you said you’d let me try something on you,” Harry pointed out with a calm expression on his face.

Inari puffed out her cheeks childishly but nodded. “Right, what do you want to do?” she asked as she leaned forwards curiously.

“Just a little test of something,” Harry assured Inari with an open smile before it was replaced with a serious expression. “Keep your eyes focused on my eyes and don’t look away unless I tell you to, alright?”

Inari’s eyes became squinted for a moment before without warning she broke out into a violent bout of laughter. “Y-your expression!” she managed to get out through her laughing.

Harry reached up and massaged the bridge of his nose. Suddenly this didn’t seem like a very good idea.

“Go on,” Inari said, suddenly becoming somber.

“Just keep your eyes on mine and don’t look anywhere else, alright?” Harry grumbled out, resisting the urge to stand up and walk out.

“Alright.” Inari nodded before sitting up straight in front of Harry and focusing on his eyes.

Harry straightened up and made eye contact with Inari. He supposed it was a good thing that he was taller than her, her head was slightly craned up and didn’t even take notice as his hand slid down over his pocket. He inhaled deeply and then let the breath go, along with a soft murmur.

“Legilimens,” he whispered out as he stared into the shimmering blue of Inari’s eyes.

Something brushed across the front of his mind but after a moment it was gone. He tried to catch it but it slipped away. It was hard to stay focused on Inari’s eyes and the thoughts at the same time. The more he focused on one the easier it was to lose the other. It didn’t help that he was becoming increasingly uncomfortable staring into Inari’s curious eyes.

He tore his gaze away from hers and began to blink rapidly.

“You wanted to have a staring contest?” Inari asked flatly.

“Shut up,” Harry grumbled as he leaned back against the chair he was sitting on. He blinked and stared at Inari for a moment before his eyes narrowed. “Why are you the one sitting in my seat?” he demanded to know. “I was the one who did all the work!”

Inari pouted and leaned back into the chair. “It’s comfortable!” She smiled challengingly. “Wanna fight for it?” she teased.

Harry opened his mouth to retort but no sound came out. A groan escaped Harry as he recalled who he had been searching in the first place, before he had been distracted by his charge. He mumbled “Sorry, got to go.” and abruptly stood up before walking towards the library doors.

“Wait—Harry!” Inari called out, sitting up straight. “What’s wrong?” she asked in a concerned voice.

For a moment Harry considered ignoring her but decided against it.

“I was looking for Beatrice when I got distracted by you,” he explained before shaking his head. “I have to go and apologize to her for missing her picnic.”

Inari made a small ‘o’ with her mouth and a guilty look crossed over her face. “Wait!” she called out again as Harry turned to leave the Library.

“What?” Harry asked in exasperation.

Inari fidgeted under Harry’s gaze for a moment. “I’m sorry for keeping you,” she murmured hesitantly. “But, Beatrice is the maid who has today off, right? The one I told to prepare the stuff yesterday when you went to the kitchens? I saw her down in the gardens a few times today, at midday and at four this afternoon… I think she’s been waiting in the gardens all day.”

Harry stared back at Inari silently as a wave of guilt washed over him.

“Thanks,” he mumbled before turning away and leaving the library.

As soon as Harry was out of sight of the library he broke out into a jog. In less than a minute he was on the ground floor and already halfway out the door to the back gardens. His eyes scanned the gardens for a sign of Beatrice but they found nothing at first glance. He wondered if Beatrice could have gone inside already, if she had gotten sick of waiting. But then his eyes came across a flicker of light blue in the far east garden. For a moment Harry wasn’t sure it was Beatrice, and after that moment he decided he didn’t care as he began to jog again.

Beatrice sat in the middle of a small self-contained garden just off of the forest. The edges were lined with wilting flowers which looked as if they had been purple in full bloom. Harry stopped jogging and began to walk at a calm pace. Beatrice wasn’t facing the mansion; she was facing the forest. She was sitting down on a patchwork quilt.

As Harry got closer the sound of his footsteps caused Beatrice to turn her head. At first she had a blank look in her eyes, but as soon as she recognized him it faded into warmth and along with it came a smile.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Beatrice brought her finger up to her lips, and the apology on his lips fell silent. Beatrice patted the ground beside her. Harry closed the gap between himself and the quilt and sat down next to her.

Beatrice turned to the picnic basket beside her and a moment later back to Harry with something in her hands.

She smiled as she held an apple out to Harry.

Harry couldn’t help but smile back as he reached for it.