Important Note: When Harry was hit by a Death Curse at the age of 16, he was left with a sensitivity to spells. A stunner can kill him, and even a lesser spell can make him very ill. There is also what appears to be minor brain damage acquired when he killed Voldemort, resulting in a tendency to list to the left, only showing when he is tired or ill.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling. My stories diverge from Canon from the end of 5th year.
Chapter 1:
The man was standing, holding a woman to him, kissing her passionately. Taller than she, his back and shoulders curved over her. He was naked to the waist, lightly tanned, and well muscled. There was a thin white scar running downwards across his ribs. The woman, although fully clothed, was pressed tight, and his hands wandered over her body. It was a scene of unambiguous sexuality.
The woman's sister, with her fifteen year old daughter, had walked in on them and watched from the door. The couple were still unaware of the intrusion, but both the newcomers were stirred, the girl with feelings that were new to her, the woman with an almost forgotten longing.
But after a moment the woman in her lover's arms noticed the intruders, and pulled gently away.
"Hello, Jean, Jennifer," she said. "I wasn't expecting you."
The man had turned, and was regarding the newcomers. He was not worried at being caught - they had only been kissing, and although he had not yet put on his shirt, Sandra was fully dressed. He was thinking, however, that he had become unwary. He would never have been surprised like this just a few years ago.
There was a bigger surprise in store. Before Sandra could introduce him to her sister and niece, the girl breathed, "Professor Potter!" in a tone of utmost shock. The woman was staring, too, her eyes going to his forehead, where there was an old and now faded scar.
Harry Potter was looking coolly imperturbable, a pose which was supposed to hide his now acute embarrassment.
"Hello, Miss Mason," he said to the girl, and questioned, "Mrs. Mason?"
"Jean Mason," she confirmed. "How do you do, Mr. Potter."
"Call me Harry," said Harry automatically, shaking her hand.
"You might know my husband, Charles. He's an auror."
"I've run into him once or twice." said Harry.
Sandra was regarding Harry with utmost astonishment. "You're a wizard?" she said. "You didn't tell me."
Harry asked, "Are you a witch?" But he was doubtful. She was a teacher at a muggle school. There had been no indication in her home that she was anything but a muggle.
"No," she smiled then, "But my sister and her daughter are."
Harry Potter was twenty-nine at this time, his birthday a few days before. Sandra was a widow in her mid thirties. She was a plain woman by conventional standards, but Harry regarded her as beautiful, as he thought all of the women he went to bed with were beautiful.
Sandra felt herself unbelievably lucky that he had somehow discerned her loneliness, and more, her frustrated desire for intimacy, and struck up a conversation at the beach, where they had met. Even though it was never spelled out, she knew that he was not offering commitment, just sex and companionship, which was a lot more than she'd had since her husband died the previous year. It was the Summer school holidays, and both Sandra and Harry, as teachers, were free to enjoy a beach holiday, which they had been doing.
"We're going to Diagon Alley to get Jennifer's school things," Jean Mason said to Sandra. "We thought you might like to come."
Sandra had been there before, but could not go alone, for entry required floo powder, which didn't work for muggles, the ability to apparate, or a wand to tap a certain brick behind a certain wizard pub. Going to Diagon Alley was a high treat for her.
She turned to Harry. "Please will you come, too? I'd love that!"
Harry was undecided. He liked to please the women he went with, especially as he knew the limitations of what he was offering. It had been over four years since anyone had tried to kill him, and he had begun to lose the habitual caution that had kept him alive through those earlier, critically dangerous years. But he thought she should be warned. "Love, I'd like to come, but people try to kill me now and again."
But Jean Mason, wife of an auror, pointed out that Harry had not been subject to any attacks for years.
"More than four years," confirmed Harry, "but that doesn't mean that I'm not still a target - and last time, they very nearly got a good friend just because he was standing next to me."
But Sandra was looking at him. She wouldn't ask, she had learned not to expect too much out of life, but he knew she very much wanted his company in the exciting place that would never be more to her than a rare treat. He conceded, "If you're truly willing to take the risk, I'd be glad to go with you." Her face lit up, and she went to him, and gave him a hug - the joyful hug of a person being given a rare and unexpected treat.
The Masons, mother and daughter, were almost as excited. Harry Potter was famous, and the prestige of being seen with him was something to be relished. Harry went and finished dressing. His wizard robe was in his bag, to change into at the Leaky Cauldron, where they would leave the muggle world, and enter the more colourful, but more dangerous world of wizardry.
Jean and Jennifer Mason, Sandra and Harry wandered through the fascinating alley, only Sandra still in muggle clothing. They made their purchases, exchanged small talk with people they knew, and looked into Fred and George's Joke shop. Harry was enjoying himself, but in this exposed place, he was wary, always very conscious of the people around them. The comment Harry's presence caused was a thrill to his company, although he ignored it himself. Sandra had just learned that Harry was a wizard - she had not known that he was famous.
They visited the bookshop, Sandra drawing Harry's attention to the section of the bookshelves devoted to Harry Potter. She wanted to buy some, and asked which he would recommend, but Harry only went slightly red and said that they were mostly rubbish. But when she selected two, he gave them a glance, said that they were more rubbish than most, and chose one himself and handed it to her, saying that at least that author actually knew him.
The book was by Susan Bourne, the illustration on the cover showed Harry as a thin and wary looking youth, the same picture that was still on the chocolate frog cards.
Harry was scanning the bookshelves, too. His studies with Dumbledore were continuing, and he was constantly looking for new books on branches of magic that were new to him, and that he found fascinating. He arranged for his purchases to be delivered, and didn't offer to help carry any of the packages the women were laden with. He wanted his hands free.
Jean Mason was beginning to notice Harry's wary alertness, and it was making her nervous. Although she knew theoretically that Harry had been in danger for many years, she had no conception of how difficult it had been at times for him to survive in freedom.
Harry was tense as he exited the bookshop. He had no inkling of any particular danger, but he was beginning to think that he was a fool to be hanging around the alley for so long. "Got everything? Ready to go?" he tried, but although the shopping was finished, Jennifer wanted an ice-cream before they left. Fortescues' had always been a favoured stop for Harry, too, but today he would rather have left the alley behind and retreated into the relative safety of muggle London.
"There are ice-cream shops in muggle London, you know," he suggested.
But most of the pleasure for his companions was in watching the witches and wizards of Diagon Alley, and enjoying the attention they received when Harry Potter was recognised. Only Jean gave him some half-hearted support.
So Harry shepherded his party to a table near the wall, sat with his back to the wall himself, and handed Jennifer some money to buy the ice-creams.
"Yes, Professor Potter," she said, the request instantly calling forth the automatic respectful answer.
"Call me Harry, today, Jennifer." Harry smiled at her for an instant, "We're not in school now," and he was scanning the crowd again. He was getting more and more uneasy.
More people arrived, the tables were filling up, and people were beginning to mill around, until Harry finally stood, leaning against the wall, seeking a better vantage point. Suddenly, he said, "Come on, we've got to go!"
"Why?" asked Jennifer, but Harry could only say, "It's time."
But it was too late. A hush spread over the crowd. Harry was on his toes, straining to see what was happening. He had pulled his wand from his inside pocket and stood tense. Sandra was up, too, holding onto his arm, but he said, harshly, "No, keep away! Stay with Jean!" and he started worming his way toward the front of the crowd where the disturbance seemed to be. He wanted to see, but not be seen.
Three masked wizards held the crowd at bay. Another two held hostages, teenagers whom Harry knew as students at Hogwarts. One wizard was apparently the spokesman. "We want Harry Potter. No-one else gets hurt if we get Harry Potter."
Harry watched from his sheltered position. If there was a chance to strike down these wizards from ambush, he would take it, but with wands pointing at the crowd, and wizards holding children captive, he hesitated to act.
One of the wizards, wand up and at the ready, started to go through the crowd, looking for their victim. He came to Harry, glanced at him, and walked right past, surprisingly not recognising him. He returned to the spokesman, who seemed to be the leader and murmured something.
The spokesman spoke loudly. "Harry Potter appears to have disapparated. These kids will feel the pain for him." One of the teenagers was spun around by the wizard holding him, while another aimed his wand.
Harry stepped forward and said calmly, "I'm Harry Potter."
He was standing, wand at his side, eyes everywhere still, and he observed several aurors, including his friend Ginny, appearing not far away. But they were in the same predicament as everyone else. Not just the two teenagers, but the whole crowd was hostage to the masked wizards.
"That's not Potter," said the wizard who had gone through the crowd, "The scar's in the wrong place."
But the leader was looking more closely. "That's Potter." He ordered Harry to step forward further.
Harry was watching the wizards closely. He had already sent that vicious thought that ensured their punishment. Whatever else happened, these wizards would have a lifetime of nasty, painful, embarrassing boils. Schoolboy trick or not, it was an effective punishment, and Harry could inflict it without any sign of doing magic.
"Let the kids go," he said, in a cold expressionless tone that matched his expression.
One of the wizards almost automatically did as he was commanded, giving the boy he held, a shove back toward his terrified mother.
Four wizards were lined up facing him, a couple of yards apart. One still held a teenage girl. The leader was off to the side a bit.
"What do you want of me?" Harry asked, still in that cold, emotionless voice.
One of the four suddenly gave a high pitched, excited laugh, "You're going to be tortured - to death or insanity, whichever comes first!"
The quieter, more deadly voice of the leader came then, "Put your wand on the ground, and we'll let the girl go and not hurt anyone else."
"Let the girl go first," said Harry.
A woman from the crowd called out, "Harry, what are they doing?"
Harry ignored the call, although he knew it to be Sandra.
"That your girlfriend, Potter?" said the leader. "A muggle?"
He glanced briefly at one of the wizards and said, "Get her!"
The wizard, wand still drawn, entered the crowd and grabbed Sandra by the arm. "You don't have very good taste, do you, Potter? She's pretty ugly!"
Harry said coldly, "Sandra has a beauty you will never know, Billings," because, masked or not, he had recognised that wizard.
Billings said smoothly, "A beauty is she? Well, I'll try her out then. I rather enjoy having muggles. I put them under the Imperius curse and make them strip for me. And they love it. Even when I hurt them, they love it - because I tell them to." And the last words were in a gloating tone that made Harry Potter even more furious.
He hesitated to act. There were too many, and innocent people could too easily be hurt.
"Put your wand down on the ground, Potter, and we'll let the girl go."
He put down his wand, and the girl was released. She ran to her mother, sobbing. But Sandra was still in the hands of her captor, trying hard to be brave, but obviously quite terrified.
"So what next?" Harry asked coolly.
The leader threatened, "If you disapparate, we'll kill half the people here, especially including the girlfriend - after enjoying her of course."
"I won't disapparate," said Harry, as calmly as ever, but the scar on his forehead was blazing bright, a sure sign of danger to anyone who knew him. He moved smoothly and still warily to the side, so that no-one was behind him.
The aurors started to close in, but one of the wizards, watching them, raised his wand at the crowd, so that they came to a halt again. Harry was now without his wand, and rather surprised that the wizards were still so cautious. But when Billings raised his wand and started to utter the brief word of the stun spell, there was no more time.
Without warning, or any indication that he was doing magic, Harry rendered unconscious the wizard holding Sandra. The wizard dropped and Sandra ran. Harry had already dived to the side as a stunner shot toward him. His wand flew to his hand, and he whipped it in a sideways motion, four wands flew into the air, he whipped it back again, and the wizards were unable to disapparate, and a third time, and three of the wizards dropped to the ground, stunned, joining the one who was already unconscious.
The wand stopped, pointing directly at the leading wizard. This was the self confessed rapist, now covered by Harry's wand, held stock still, and aiming at him. "You like to rape muggles, do you?" said Harry, in a quiet deadly tone, and the tip of his wand dropped, aiming now at the man's groin, "Well, you'll never do it again."
The man looked incredulously at him, and then grabbed at his groin, shrieking, "No!"
"You will never rape a woman again," repeated Harry, and he left the man whimpering, "No, no, no," but he was a rapist, and the punishment was just.
There was a stir to the side, Harry whipped around, and used his free left hand to hit a Death Curse straight back to the wizard who had sent it. The wizard dropped, but now a new light came from the direction of the crowd, and Harry whipped around again to face it, wand raised, scar blazing, ready and prepared to kill. The photographer took his picture, Harry barely managing to stop himself stunning the man.
Wand still raised, Harry stepped back and around, searching the surrounds for more enemies.
The aurors were standing stock still, being very careful not to appear as a threat. Suddenly Sandra threw herself into Harry's arms and he held her with his left arm, while still holding his wand raised, eyes everywhere.
Mark Johnston, the auror whom Harry knew, slowly approached. "Harry, it's all over. Please put down your wand. You're making us nervous."
Harry's eyes flicked over the aurors. Dawlish was not there. He lowered his wand to a discernible lessening of tension from the aurors.
Four attackers stunned, one turned into a eunuch, one dead. One muggle lady hysterical in Harry's arms. He took her back to his position with his back to the wall, wand still held in his right hand, but uttering soothing words and holding her tight with his left arm. Charlie Mason, the auror, went to his wife and daughter, huddling together in the crowd. Harry murmured to Sandra, who was still sobbing, and she left him to join the others.
He wanted to look at the faces of his attackers. Ginny and Mark were dealing with the four lying stunned, unmasking them and tying them up. Another auror whom Harry didn't know, was tying up the whimpering ex-rapist. Two more stood by the body.
Harry went to the body first, wand still held in his hand. The aurors were looking at him rather cautiously. They had never seen anyone fight like that - so blindingly fast that it was hard to know just what had happened.
Harry raised the man's mask, and looked at him carefully. Then he went to Ginny, who was holding one of the unconscious wizards, "Can I just have a look at him?"
She paused, allowing him the look he requested. Mark, also holding an unconscious body, followed her example, waiting for him to have a close look at the unmasked wizard, before disapparating with him.
Two more wizards still lay stunned on the ground, and Harry methodically went from one to the other, checking their faces. He had an excellent memory for names and faces, and would know them again.
He returned to the Masons, and to Sandra, who came again into his arms. He dropped a kiss onto her head, and said, "How about we go, love. The aurors will look after the mess." He turned to Mason, and asked, "Is it possible for you to take Jean and Jennifer home?"
"Yes, but - you can't just go! There are questions to ask!"
"Your lot saw as much as I did, and there are plenty of witnesses. Sandra's upset, I want to take her home."
Sandra still sobbed in his arms, although nearly all the wizarding crowd, a tougher breed, had calmed, and were now talking excitedly among themselves, even those teenagers who had been held captive.
Other aurors surrounded him now, which was beginning to make him nervous. Both Ginny and Ron Weasley were close friends, and they were aurors, and there were several others whom he knew and liked, such as Mark. But he had also had to fight for his freedom when aurors had been sent against him, and he knew he had enemies in their ranks. So now he murmured to Sandra, "How about we go home? I can apparate with you."
Sandra was longing to be away from this place now, she was not accustomed to threats of torture or to the sight of sudden death, and was willing to trust Harry, so she agreed, and the two silently vanished, to the annoyance of the aurors surrounding them.
They were left alone that afternoon and through the night, while poor Sandra tried to come to terms with her ordeal. She slept badly, and he held her throughout the night. Once, she roused him by screaming out in a nightmare. Harry well understood nightmares - he was subject to terrifying nightmares himself, although they were less frequent now than they used to be.
He was not surprised at breakfast the next morning, therefore, when she told him she didn't want to see him again - that his world was too dangerous for her. He didn't argue. He agreed. He would never have started going out with her if he'd known that she was linked to the wizarding world. That world had never before threatened the muggle women he dated.
He made sure to pick up the few things he had with him, and went to Sandra for a final embrace.
"Harry," she said, "Did you mean what you said?"
"Mean what?" he asked.
"You said to that wizard that I was beautiful."
"I meant it. You are beautiful. And I put you in danger - I'm so sorry."
But then there was a knock at the door, and Sandra opened it to see two wizards. Harry was on his feet, instantly wary, but relaxed when he saw that it was Ron and Mark, aurors maybe, but friends.
"Sandra Gilmore? We've just come to see Harry."
Harry joined Sandra at the door, and Mark said respectfully, "Will you come to the Ministry, Mr. Potter? Madam Bones wants to talk to you about yesterday."
"Certainly," said Harry. "Now?"
But his face was coolly inscrutable, and Ron, knowing him very well, wondered if he still thought he was somehow in danger. Harry gave Sandra a final kiss and squeeze of the hand, and said simply "Good-bye, love."
They apparated into the large atrium of the Ministry, Mark explaining that this was the only part of the building not protected by anti-apparation charms. Mark and Ron led the way to a conference room, and were soon joined by the Minister for Magic, Amelia Bones, Chief Auror, Alec McVeigh, plus Charles Mason, and another middle-aged wizard who was introduced as Barry Alston. Harry had reason to distrust the Ministry of Magic, but Ron was still there, so it didn't look like they planned on trying to arrest him.
"You had quite a time yesterday, Harry." Madam Bones started. "Alec here wants to ask you a few questions."
So McVeigh quizzed him about the incident the previous day, although it soon became clear that Harry had little to add they didn't know.
Madam Bones put in, "You killed again."
"I only killed the one who threw a Death Curse, and you said that was all right."
"What about the one you castrated?"
"He was a rapist," said Harry, as if it was self evident that rapists should be castrated.
Madam Bones hid a smile. She rather agreed with him in this case. But she said, "There's a lot of ill feeling. You're going to have to face a disciplinary hearing."
"Why?" asked Harry. "I've done nothing wrong."
Madam Bones leaned forward. "You can't go taking the law into your own hands."
"But they were attacking me - and all of the people there, come to that! What was I supposed to do?"
Barry Alston leaned forward, saying in a hard voice. "You attacked a wizard, and caused terrible damage. It was not justified."
"You mean the one I castrated? He was a rapist - he boasted of it. Of course it was justified!"
Madam Bones said again, "You can't go taking the law into your own hands - you should have left it to the Ministry to punish him for his crimes."
Harry was sitting back, frowning. "You think I should not have castrated him?" he asked, still apparently feeling that he had only inflicted the obvious and merited punishment.
Madam Bones tried again to explain. She liked Harry Potter, and didn't want to see him in trouble. "It was not your decision to make. It was up to the Ministry."
Harry was still frowning, looking at Madam Bones, whom he respected, and who had always been fair and reasonable. "And I'm in trouble because of Billings?"
"There will be a disciplinary hearing."
Harry was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Would it help if I fixed him then?"
Everyone stared at Harry. It was Ron who finally said, "You can fix him?"
Harry said, "Yeah, I reckon so." He was beginning to be uncomfortable, and rose and leaned against the wall, looking coolly remote.
Alston protested, "How can you possibly fix him? You can't restore what was taken away!"
Harry shrugged, and merely repeated that he thought he could probably fix the man.
Madam Bones finally took a deep breath. "Well, this changes things." She turned to McVeigh, and asked, "Would it be better to take Harry to Azkaban to see Billings, or bring the man here?"
Harry intervened with the flat statement. "I'm not going to Azkaban!"
Ron said, "How about me and Mark go and get him, bring him here?"
McVeigh put in, "He's a dangerous man. I'll put together a team myself to fetch him." He stood, "You and Mark had best go about your duties. Charles, you stay here with Mr. Potter," and he left the room.
Amelia Bones stood, too. "Let me know when you bring Billings - I'd like to see this."
Alston shot a venomous glance at Harry, and he, too, left.
Harry Potter and Charles Mason were left in the room. Harry was still leaning against the wall, looking coolly imperturbable, not speaking, while Mason shifted uncomfortably in his chair. There was a knock at the door, and a wizard arrived with some refreshments. Mason picked up a teacup, "Harry? How do you like it?"
Harry declined. Mason helped himself, still sitting at the table. Mason was looking at him. He said, "Thank you for not telling Jean."
Harry still said nothing, but the awareness was strong between them. When Harry was just seventeen, aurors had tried to take him prisoner.
Mason tried again, "You did punish me, you know - those boils - I couldn't walk for a fortnight. One was right between the legs!"
Harry said in a level voice, "The idea was to keep me a prisoner, weakened and helpless - presumably until either me or Voldemort died." As he spoke, there crossed his face an indication of the absolute horror he felt at the thought of such an imprisonment, and Mason knew that there could never be any friendship between him and this brilliant wizard, whom he admired so much. So they waited.
At length there was a disturbance at the door, and four tough looking aurors escorted Billings into the room. Billings' hands were tied, and he looked miserable. Harry straightened and pulled his wand from his pocket, ready to get the job done. Billings shuddered and pulled back with a look of sick fear. It appeared that no-one had told him why he had been brought from his prison.
More people were entering. Madam Bones returned, and three elderly witches entered, and another old wizard, whom Harry didn't know. There was also a mediwizard. Alec McVeigh and Barry Alston had also returned. Harry looked questioningly at Madam Bones, who introduced the newcomers - they worked in the Department of Mysteries, and had asked to witness such a unique piece of magic.
Harry was feeling distinctly uneasy now - he hated putting his skills on display. He said, "It may not work - and there'll be nothing to see anyway."
The room was crowded, and McVeigh nodded for two of the aurors who had escorted Billings to take station outside the room.
Alston directed the aurors to place Billings in front of Harry. Harry still had his wand in hand, and he raised it. There was a sudden scatter of men behind Billings, as they quickly moved to the side, away from any possible dangerous spell. But Harry only spoke coldly and quietly to Billings, who was apparently frozen to the spot. "You will never again take a woman or girl against her will. You will never be able to function as a man, except with a woman who comes to you of her own free will. You will not be able to function as a man with anyone, male or female, whom you have drugged, or threatened, or rendered helpless with a spell. You will never raise a hand or a wand against any man or woman in violence."
This was the same sort of hypnosis laced with magic that had once been used on Harry. He raised his wand a touch higher, and Billings apparently felt something, because he whimpered and clutched at his groin as he had the day before.
Harry held his wand raised, and a tingling of magic could be felt in the air. It lasted only about three minutes, while Billings whimpered, tears in his eyes, and everyone else watched, fascinated.
At length, Harry was finished, and he restored his wand to his pocket, and said, quite casually, to Madam Bones. "OK, he's fixed."
Madam Bones instructed the mediwizard to check the man out in another room, and the aurors whom Harry particularly distrusted, including Bruce O'Brien and John Dawlish, left the room. But Harry had displayed his unique abilities, which he normally avoided, and he still maintained the cool remote look that he habitually wore when he felt threatened. To others, however, it only made him look daunting, even dangerous.
There was a silence, as everyone waited for the mediwizard to return. Most were staring at Harry, who looked increasingly remote.
The mediwizard returned, looking slightly stunned. "He seems fine - perfectly normal. They've taken him back to Azkaban."
Harry looked at Madam Bones, "Finished with me, now?"
"No, Harry, please wait."
Harry's eyes were flicking over the company. There were still far more present than he felt comfortable with.
Amelia Bones was studying him. She wanted to quiz him about his magic, but he was looking so unapproachable that she was reluctant to even raise the subject. So she rose and dismissed all but the three witches and the wizard who worked in the Department of Mysteries, and then ordered more tea and coffee, which arrived almost immediately.
"Please sit down," she said to Harry, and the Minister for Magic herself served him with coffee, and handed him a bun on a plate. Harry was suddenly hungry. Mostly he found his magic perfectly effortless, but on rare occasions, especially when healing, he would find himself doing something that left him hungry and tired. So he dropped his cool veneer and started enjoying the very good morning tea provided.
Amelia Bones was thinking that he really wasn't so very old after all, and she made casual conversation, designed to set him at his ease. The others, although consumed with curiosity, quickly understood what she was trying to do, and joined in.
Outside, word had spread throughout the Ministry, where so many witches and wizards worked. Ron and Ginny both heard, and, like many others, wished they could have been inside that room. Alec McVeigh had stationed two experienced aurors outside the room, partly to prevent unwanted entries, and maybe partly because he viewed Harry Potter as potentially dangerous. There were far more employees than normal wandering the corridors and gathered in knots in the foyer, waiting and hoping to see the famous wizard, whose powers were unique.
The casual conversation dried up as Madam Bones sat quietly studying Harry, who was eating his third bun. Without preliminaries, she asked, "Well, Harry, how did you do it?"
Harry abandoned his bun. He'd been expecting this inquisition, and knew perfectly well the purpose of the morning tea, and the small talk. But he didn't understand his magic himself. Even if he'd wanted to try and explain his magic, he couldn't. So he shrugged his shoulders, and offered, "I used to have a job, once, that included castrating bulls. Men are not much different."
The women present were amused, the elderly wizard, less so.
"Yes, but how?" pressed the wizard. Harry looked at him, and the man was more specific, "How exactly did you castrate that man, and especially, how exactly did you fix him?"
Harry was drumming his fingers on the table, looking at the window, through which the sun appeared to be shining. But it was not a real window, and it was overcast outside in any case. At last he gave as much as he could. "I pointed my wand and thought what I wanted."
"Yes, but what spell did you use? When you fixed him, what incantation did you use?"
Harry shook his head. "I can never remember incantations, only the simple ones I learned as a kid."
"So how did you fix him?"
"I told you."
The wizard still pressed. "Did you think any words?"
Harry said, as he stood up, as if to indicate that the interview was over, "I can't remember - I might have thought of something like Be fixed. That's all I can tell you."
The learned witches and wizards who worked in the Department of Mysteries gave up.
Harry turned to Madam Bones, "Finished with me, now?" She assented.
"Is there still to be a hearing?"
"I'll let you know."
He picked up the small bag with his things and started toward the door, but Madam Bones said, "Wait. I'll come with you."
As they left the room, John Dawlish and Bruce O'Brien, who had been stationed outside the door, started to fall into line behind them. Harry wasn't having that, and turned with his back to the wall, again looking coolly daunting. Madam Bones was looking at him, puzzled. Dawlish and O'Brien hesitated, and Harry spelt it out. "You can't be trusted. I don't want you behind me."
Madam Bones gave a jerk of her head, and the pair turned and walked briskly off. Harry resumed his walk down the corridor toward the foyer, but his eyes were wary and his right hand was free.
"A bit paranoid, aren't you, Harry?" said Madam Bones.
"That's right," casually agreed Harry, "They call me Mad-Eye Potter in certain circles, after Moody, you know. But I'm twenty-nine years old, and I was supposed to never reach my eighteenth birthday. And anyhow it's not paranoia if people really are out to get you!"
They turned the corner into the atrium, and Ron and Ginny were waiting for them. Amelia Bones saw Harry at last with a genuine smile on his face.
"You did it!" said Ginny.
Harry shrugged, and Madam Bones suddenly noticed that even now, his eyes were everywhere. There were many people around. She began to have an inkling of what his life had been.
Ron had a newspaper in his hand. Ginny asked Madam Bones respectfully, "Have you finished with him? Can we show him this?"
Amelia Bones smiled her assent, and Ron handed the paper to Harry. "Look at the front page!" he said, and Amelia, who had already seen the newspaper photograph, watched him to see what he would say. The photograph took up the whole of the front page - Harry Potter, as the photographer had caught him yesterday - cloak still swirling, as he spun around, wand raised, scar blazing, and looking like he was about to kill!
Harry looked at it, surprised to see himself looking so utterly dangerous, but his only remark was that the photographer was lucky not to have found himself stunned!
"Where are you going now, Harry?" asked Ron.
"Home - unless you can join me for lunch or something."
Ron looked at his sister Ginny. "I've organised an early lunch hour," said Ginny. "I'd love to join you.
Ron added, "I can probably join you in a half hour."
"Great," and he lowered his voice before naming a muggle pub they all knew. He took his leave of Madam Bones, and he and Ginny disapparated, while Ron went back to his desk to complete a report.
Ginny had been widowed some months before. The quiet, studious man she had married had developed a passion for muggle electricity, and had electrocuted himself trying to wire up his house. They had only been married four years, and had a little boy of three, called Adam.
Harry and Ginny saw each other rarely. But watching him in action the previous day, Ginny had remembered how she had once felt for him. She had loved her husband, and been happy with him. But if things had been different - it might have been Harry.
Harry and Ginny still cared deeply for each other, but conversation was awkward until she handed him the paper that Ron had passed on to her. Harry, with an awareness of the muggles all around, quietly worked a little magic, and the moving photographs froze into stillness. And then he carefully read the article. Since he had been accused of being a Dark Wizard and had nearly been locked up for it, he made sure that he was aware of the stories that were circulated about him, even if often there was little he could do about it. But the article seemed a reasonably accurate account of what had happened, even if rather over dramatic in his eyes. Much was made of his lightning speed and that he had managed to defeat the wizards without anyone being hurt.
But when it referred to the castration of the wizard, the tone changed and became condemnatory. It spoke of arrogance and unjustified cruel punishment. Harry asked, "What do you think, Ginny? They all seem to think I did the wrong thing - but he was a rapist!"
Ginny shrugged, "I don't know - it seems fair enough to me, wizards do awful things sometimes when duelling, and this was the same as a duel, just five against one - or six to one, really!"
"Do you know if that last one, the one I killed - was he with the others, or was that a separate bit of enterprise?"
"According to what I heard, he was not with the original five."
"At Ron's wedding, I was told that about forty wizards were actively trying to kill me. It seemed too many to do much about at the time, but with one thing and another, there can't be more than about twenty-five left - and most of those have probably abandoned the idea. I must be getting safer!"
Ron arrived then, and after providing himself with a beer, asked about Sandra. "How's she doing? She seemed very upset."
"She was terribly upset. I don't know why I was so stupid. I never should have gone with them to a wizard area!"
"She'll get over it," said Ron.
"I hope so," said Harry. "Ask Mason for me in a week or two, would you? She's finished with me, but I want to know that she's all right."
Ron agreed, and they talked generally for a while, before Ginny and Ron had to leave.
Harry was left behind, feeling lonely and depressed, still keeping a careful eye all around. He was blaming himself for becoming incautious, and allowing an innocent muggle to come into contact with his dangerous world.
But his philosophy of life didn't really include time spent regretting what could not be helped, and he eventually scanned the surrounding muggles with a different aim in mind. When he didn't find what he had in mind, he slipped out of sight and disapparated, reappearing at a beach he knew - not the one where he had met Sandra, but another.
After a long swim that satisfactorily stretched muscles and left him invigorated, he came back to the beach, and sat down on the sand, discreetly studying the people around him. As usual, he found what he wanted, and spent the rest of the afternoon, and part of the evening enjoying himself enormously with a new temporary girlfriend, before returning to Hogwarts.
***chapter end***