Notes: Harry's staff mentioned in this chapter: Bill, manager, Jimmy, who looks after the horses, Kevin, gardener andformer security guard.

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and his world belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 7:

They buried Luna in the walled garden. Only Harry, Beth and Hermione present, plus several respectful employees. Luna had never had friends much - at school they had called her Loony, and sometimes in adulthood as well. There was no family aside from her husband and her daughter.

She had left her newspaper to her editor, who had run the paper almost single-handed for the last ten years.

That evening, Beth took one of Luna's books across to Harry, who looked at it a moment, then with a sudden upsurge of fury, hurled it across the room. He was standing, breath coming fast and shallow, looking around him desperately, not knowing what to do in his pain. Beth rose, went to his room, and brought back his wallet and his cape. "Go for a walk," she commanded him. "That'll help."

His attention came back to his daughter. How was she being so brave? Beth put her arms around her father.

She was not brave, she thought. It was just that her father was different. Harry felt things more than most people. She had felt his overwhelming joy in life when he played, his rare anger, and his tender love for his wife. And now there was a bitter, bitter loneliness fighting to get through. She had felt his temptation, too. In death, he might find again those he had lost.

"Go for a walk," she told him again, and he stood. Beth adjusted the cape around him, he reached a hand to touch her for a moment, and then was gone.

In London, he could walk and walk. There were endless footpaths in the big city, that led him on and on. For the next four hours, he walked. Not thinking, not feeling, just walking.

His path was blocked by young men. There appeared to be two gangs, facing each other, preparing to fight. Two of them were between the others, a husky young man, with fists balled, and a smaller one with a sharp face, who suddenly produced a knife. The others were hanging back, watching. And Harry also watched, joining the ring around the fighters, oblivious to any sense of his own potential danger.

For a time he watched. His mind was moving sluggishly, there had been too much pain just recently. But when the unarmed man received a shallow slash on his arm, the knife suddenly spun out of the other's hand, and was lost to view. Fights should be fair.

Abruptly he was bored, and started manoeuvring his way through the men to go on his way. They were obstructive, and a couple of times he wound up thrusting them aside. He was only walking, it should not have made a difference to him which way he went, but it never occurred to him to turn back, even when half the time he was going in circles. Police sirens sounded, and the men scattered.

Harry just walked on.

Two hours later, he again found men blocking his way. It was one of the same gangs that he had seen before, but now it was later in the night, and they had not had their fight, and they had not tormented any passers by, and here was this odd man in a cape, who scarcely seemed aware of his surroundings. They blocked his way, pushing back when he tried to push through, and there were a few jeers and heckles, penetrating his dazed confusion.

He stepped back, shaking his head a moment, his eyes became more alert, and then a fierce grin appeared on his face.

"One at a time!" he said. "Fights should be fair. I'll take you all on, but one at a time!"

"You want a fight?" said one, "I'll give you a fight!" And he took a swing at Harry, who easily dodged back out of the way.

"My name's Harry," he said, and dodged again. He hadn't fought since he had married Luna, but his speed of reflex was still there, and he dodged again, easily. "That's not good enough," he declared, "I'd best try someone else, or maybe two."

These provocative words were enough to trigger a very determined and aggressive attack from the man, but Harry was able to slip out of the way, seeming without effort, and suddenly stepped forward and knocked him out with one swift blow to the jaw, the first blow he had struck.

"Next?" he said, standing apparently relaxed. He still had a wolfish grin on his face. "How about you two?"

The two he indicated glanced at each other, but advanced, if a touch reluctantly. They did not want to lose face in front of their friends.

This was better, and Harry received a couple of glancing blows on his ribs. He never felt it was a fight when he was untouched! They retreated after a bit, but now there was blood here and there. The man he had first knocked down was reviving.

"He's probably got AIDS," called one, "Be careful!"

Harry shook his head. "No AIDS, I was a married man," and his voice suddenly held an infinite sadness, "... she died!"

He became suddenly vicious, and the pair he was fighting went down. They held off then, and he was frustrated, "Come on, I need to fight." He walked up and down in front of them. "I need to fight! Look, I'm wearing a cape, I'm probably a queer, I'm your target."

He was swaying slightly, a bruise on his cheek, and he wasn't quite making sense.

"Why don't you just throw a punch?" asked one.

"Never hit first. That's against the rules!" And he begged them, "Please?"

Two more came forward. Harry was slowing down. He had walked many miles that night, and had already defeated five of their number, but one of these finally managed to take him, and he went down to a heavy blow on the jaw.

But now police sirens were sounding again - someone had reported the disturbance. The gang started to scatter, but two went to Harry, and he was bundled up and taken with them. A policeman was fast enough to recognise the inert figure in the arms of a young thug, but there were a dozen in the gang, and he only called for reinforcements, as the gang retreated, taking Harry with them.

But a report went in, and a sergeant called Peter Ramsbottom remembered the old instructions if Harry Potter was sighted. A phone call went to the Auror Department of the Ministry of Magic. Were they still interested in hearing what he was up to? The auror on duty was not quite sure. It was over ten years ago that they had tried to keep Harry out of trouble, and the instructions were long out of date. Mark was contacted, and he swore. It seemed that the moment he lost his wife, Harry Potter was back to his old habits.

Aurors were sent out, further contact with muggle police were made, and Mark went into the office. It was not just that Harry was valuable to the Ministry, he was a friend, and they said that he was unconscious in the hands of a London street gang!

Harry woke in a derelict house. They were several young men around him, sitting with bottles in hand mostly, and talking peacefully. Harry sat, leaning against the wall. Someone offered him a bottle, and he drank. But then he just put it down, and stared into the distance.

"You said your name was Harry?" said a young man.

Harry nodded. "Harry Potter," he said, extending a hand.

"Chris Barnes."

Another came over, "Peter Barnes."

Harry shook their hands as the rest of them introduced themselves.

"Do you do this often?" asked one, "Going around picking a fight?"

Harry was looking into the distance. "Not for a long time."

"Why did you do it tonight?" asked Chris.

"It makes me feel alive," said Harry, "and tonight - I guess I just wanted to hit someone." He looked down again, ashamed, "Sorry."

Chris had a livid bruise on his cheek. So did Harry actually, although his glasses were still miraculously intact.

"You said your wife died."

Harry was surprised, "Did I say that?"

"That's what you said. Is it true?"

Harry looked at Chris, and his eyes were suddenly swimming in tears. "I buried her this morning."

Luna was dead. How could he go on living? He rose shakily to his feet, and when he tried to walk, he staggered. He put out a hand, but stopped himself in time. He had nearly conjured a cane in front of a dozen muggles! With an effort, he regained his balance, and walked out the door.

They were watching him, and suddenly Chris and his brother, Peter, rose and followed him. A few more stood a little more reluctantly. Unaccountably, Chris was feeling possessive about Harry. He obviously needed protection. He was not thinking straight.

Harry scarcely seemed to notice their presence at first. But then he started talking, all about Luna, what they had done together. How they could talk together, almost without words. There was a daughter, he said. How was it that the daughter was stronger than he was? He talked on and on, and Chris and Peter walked by his sides, although the other three tired and dropped out. Once they walked through a park, and Harry stopped and picked up a strong, straight stick from the ground. It would help him keep his balance.

After a long while, he fell silent, and then stopped, swaying slightly, didn't speak, but wrapped himself up in his cape, and lay down, apparently to sleep. Chris and Peter looked at each other. This was a bad neighbourhood, he couldn't just go to sleep here. They conferred a little, then bullied him to his feet, and walked him to a nearby hotel. They had little money between them, but found his wallet, and used that to pay for a room for the three of them.

**x**

It had been nearly dawn when they took the room, and it was noon before Harry stirred, looked around, and wondered where on earth he was. There were four narrow single beds in the room, two of them still occupied. One of the men was snoring softly.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed, as the events of the previous evening gradually seeped back into his brain. His shoes were on the floor, and his cape was crumpled in a corner, otherwise he was fully dressed. He was hungry, and he was unwashed, but there was a small and not very clean shower and toilet. He washed himself, cleaned his clothes with magic, and shook out the creases in his cape. His feet were very badly blistered, his socks had been caked with blood, so that he had had to soak them off. He was stiff and sore and he wondered just how far he had walked the previous night. He was quite unable to put on his shoes.

Harry knew that he had lost his wife, that he would never see her again. But somehow it was a little easier to bear now.

He thought he'd best check into reception. It was obviously way past checkout time, and he would have to pay for another night. Outside his room, Anna and Zack were on guard. He looked at them with astonishment, "What are you doing here?"

Anna smiled at him, "Trying to look after you - as always." And then she gave him a hug, "I'm sorry about Luna."

He hugged her back, and thanked her. There was some spectacular bruising on his face, his knuckles were skinned, his bare feet looked dreadful, and they had already noticed that he was moving with difficulty.

"Where were you planning on going now?" Zack asked.

"Find reception, and pay more money, before we get thrown out," said Harry.

"That's already done," said Zack.

"Well!" said Harry. "Just proves it then - I've been wrong all these years, it really is useful being followed around."

"Who's with you, anyway?"

"Chris and Pete - they're friends, but they're still asleep."

"There's a bakery just around the corner, if you want anything to eat," said Anna. Harry was looking far too thin, she thought.

Harry poked his head back in the room, but his friends were still sound asleep.

Chris and Pete woke to the sound of conversation, and the scent of food. Zack had come into the room, but Anna remained outside, on guard. Harry made introductions all around, as he distributed an ample supply of lunch from the bakery. Anna already had a couple of donuts. He didn't mention to his young friends that there was a guard outside. Too difficult to explain.

He introduced them to Zack, not offering any explanation at all as to how his friend Zack came to be there. Both Pete and Chris showed black eyes, and other bruises, and when they got to their feet, they complained bitterly at how far Harry had made them walk.

Zack was amused - how had Harry become so friendly with some punks on the street, whom he had not even met until the previous night - and then they'd fought!

Pete and Chris regarded Zack with admiration. Zack was in his thirties now, and was a large man with an air of toughness and maturity. Chris was nineteen, Pete a year younger. Zack was what they would want to be, rather than just young punks on the street, neither of them with a job.

Harry suddenly raised his head, looking into the distance. How had Beth contacted him from this distance? But Beth was only checking up, he wasn't needed.

He was preparing to leave now, and he turned to Zack, "I'll be with you shortly," he said, and Zack nodded and waited outside with Anna.

Harry turned back to his new friends, and asked Chris what he owed him, presuming that Chris had paid for the hotel. But Chris just grinned, and said that they'd paid from Harry's wallet, and the room was in his name.

Harry was looking at them both. They didn't know just how much they had helped him. He thanked them, but they waved it aside. It was a weekday, and there was no mention of work. He didn't want to ask exactly, it sounded a bit tactless, but just in case, he said, "If you ever want a job, there's always a place for extra workers at my place," and he scribbled a map on a greasy pie bag, a map that his enemies would have given a fortune for. "Just come and ask for Harry," he said, and he stood, thanked them again, and left, joining Anna and Zack, those from his own world.

He was holding his shoes by the laces. His feet were terribly sore, and he thought that he might call in on Hermione for patching up. He could do a lot himself, of course, but she knew what she was doing. And besides, he felt like being coddled a little!

Anna and Zack had something else in mind. They urgently wanted him at the Ministry. Some of their Austrian colleagues had been turned into pumpkin-heads, although the culprit had finally been taken. They knew from Harry that pumpkin-heads needed to be rescued urgently. 'First they go mad, and then they die', he had said. And they had only recently been in Austria, where Jebedee, Sanaz and Anthony had met some of the Austrian aurors who had provided additional security to the hotel where they stopped. Two of these were no longer human.

Harry tried again to put on his shoes, but quickly changed his mind. He would carry his shoes, and he painfully straightened. He would go straight away if they wanted, but maybe Jodie or Therese could fix him up a bit first. They apparated into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic. Zack went with him as he hobbled painfully to see one of the Ministry healers, finding Therese in her office.

Mark found him there ten minutes later, wearing just underpants, and showing bruises over most of his body. Therese was anointing the violet lotion she favoured over the sore spots, applying it tenderly to his bruised face. She looked at his feet, and asked him how far he had walked.

"Most of the night, I think," he replied.

She touched the areas of acute soreness, and finally gently applied some lotion. "Well, you'll have to go without shoes for a few days. You've done too much damage."

Mark said then, "Have you heard, Therese? Can you come if we go straight away? We'll be back tonight." Therese nodded.

Harry asked, "How many are there?"

"Seven, five of them aurors," said Mark.

"Seven! He must have been good!"

"We're flying over straight away if you're fit enough," said Mark.

Harry just nodded, and asked, "Can I have Sanaz? She's the fastest of them all!"

"Sanaz? Who else?"

"Whoever you think. But they have to be fast! And I want two in the room with me, maybe three if they were aurors, they're probably even more dangerous than usual," and he touched his own jaw. Aurors could probably hit very hard. He added, "I'll have to duck home and tell Beth first, maybe even bring her. She only lost her mother two days ago, remember."

There seemed to be finished, so he slipped on his clothes. Therese said quickly, "One moment," monitor in hand.

Harry sighed, but didn't object. Therese frowned at the results. The LV reading was down a few points to 102, the energy levels were low, too, and Harry had lost more weight. But she knew what was at stake. Harry would save lives today. She would not interfere.

Harry didn't have to apparate as Beth made contact again, and he was able to tell her what was in the wind. Beth didn't want to come, to Harry's relief. He still thought that it was best if she was kept right away from notice of the Ministry.

Back home, Beth was pleased. Her father had come to some acceptance of his loss, and was being distracted by being useful. Some people in terrible distress were going to be saved. Beth was proud of her father. No-one else could do the things he did. But she went herself to look at her mother's grave. Kevin had worked hard, with magic, and with his hands, and it now looked an established part of the garden. Her mother would be pleased to have such a lovely area as her own, and the ten year old girl stood proudly. Luna had done her best to look after Harry. Now she would do the same. But she wondered how she would continue to hold onto her strength now that no feeling of joyousness would fill the house at night to fortify her. That was gone.

The private aeroplane whisked the group to Austria. They were met by the Austrian Minister for Magic, as well as their Chief Auror. Harry was treated like royalty. He was confident that he would be able to help probably most of the victims. It had only happened the previous day, although a couple were a few days older. Those were the ones who were not aurors, just victims.

They were located actually in the Ministry building, and set themselves up in a large room. Harry was surrounded by the aurors, and people tried to peer around the large men as they passed. They all knew about the tragedy in the ranks of the aurors, and hoped that the legendary wizard could save them.

Harry was feeling very ordinary, shorter than usual without his shoes, and self-conscious. He tried to walk a little less stiffly, before rebuking himself. No shoes was hardly an issue, and his mind flew back to Luna. Luna never wore shoes, unless they were out. Even when she walked outside, she'd just as soon get her feet wet and muddy, as go to the trouble of putting on shoes. And he smiled sadly, remembering.

Seven of them! And there they were, lined up waiting for him, and again he apprehensively caressed his own jaw. Most of them seemed so bloody big! He asked Therese, "How good are you at mending broken jaws?" There were more big men all around, just like many of the aurors that always seemed to surround him.

Three ambulance teams waited, each with their own mediwizard. They were going all out to save their own.

Without delay, the first pumpkin-head was brought in. Sanaz, Jebedee and Anthony surrounded him, wands drawn. The Austrian Chief Auror stood with Mark, who had come too, and was protesting volubly. The English looked liked they were going to attack his men.

Harry explained that men went mad when imprisoned so suddenly, and that they usually came out raging. That often they had to be stunned to prevent them hurting somebody, usually himself.

"We'll tie their hands, then," said the Austrian.

"No!" said Harry forcefully.

"Why not?"

They were all looking at him now, and he felt himself on the spot. After all, not everyone had his phobia about tied hands. "They're like in prison. They should not find themselves restrained the instant they get out!"

Mark intervened. He knew that this was just Harry. It was the obvious solution. Jebedee knew too. Just because Harry couldn't stand to be tied up didn't mean that it could never be used. They tied the hands of the first man.

Harry paced up and down the room. He felt horribly disturbed. Mark went to him, touching his arm. "Come on, Harry. It's the obvious solution, and we'll take them off as soon as he's all right."

Others were looking at him curiously. Harry took out his wand, and he wandered around the room, touching his wand to a few sharp edges, making them soft.

"Behind the desk," he said to Therese. "Be ready to duck if you need to." He returned to stand in front of the man. He was a little calmer now.

He made the slight effort, and he was inside the man's mind. In his disturbance about the bound hands, he had forgotten to shield himself, and wheeled away again, hunching his shoulders and holding his head. It was like he had been pounced on. But he shook his head, shielded himself, and tried again.

The man was frantic, and he worked at calming him, as he sought for the trigger point that would return him to normality. It happened suddenly, the monster melted into a man, raised his bound arms, and screamed. Harry used his wand to vanish the ropes. But the man went on screaming. The Austrian mediwizard took over, waving her wand, and the man abruptly calmed.

The next pumpkin-head was led in. They went to bind his wrists, but Harry said, "No. No more ropes," and he leaned against the wall, expression perfectly calm, and waited. They reasoned with him, argued with him, pleaded with him, but he only leaned against the wall, and stated that he would do nothing unless his patients had their hands free. "I'd rather be hit than have them scream like that!"

Harry won, of course. If Harry didn't cooperate, certainly no-one else could do the job. Harry went into the mind of the second victim, and this time, found the man calm and rational. He spoke to him, assuring him that he would be fixed in just a moment, that he just had to put up with his own mind in his mind, that he should stay calm.

This was a tough and disciplined man, an experienced auror, and when Harry went deeper into his mind to find the vital trigger point, the man forced himself to stay calm, not to resent the invasion. When this monster melted back into a man, he just breathed deeply, and thanked the English wizard who stood in front of him, looking rather battered around the edges.

Two more were the same, and Harry was relieved. This was going better than expected.

Another auror, another large man; and this one forgot what Harry had been telling him in his mind, seized the man in front of him by the throat, and tried to strangle him before three stunners hit him.

They gave Harry ten minutes to recover, and then the first civilian victim was brought in. It was a woman, probably young from the smoothness of flesh on neck, legs and arms, and Harry found it even more disturbing than usual. He touched her hand, it was only a few days ago, she should be there. He concentrated. He still had traces of bruising on his face from the night before, and now there was a bruised throat besides. He could feel the spell, but he searched and searched for the woman. Finally he turned to his helpers. "She's dead," he said, and tears were in his eyes. Death was so final. They led the vegetable out of the room.

The next victim was the last. Harry was getting very weary, and was unable to hold him calm, but he still rescued the man, and Sanaz was quick off the mark, and he was stunned before he could do more damage to Harry.

There were no chairs in the room, and Harry sank to the floor, his back to the wall. He was tired, and his throat hurt, and he made not the slightest objection when Therese started fussing over him. He remembered something, waved his wand again, and the softened edges of desk, table and window ledge became normal again. The Austrian was talking volubly, but Harry took no notice. It wasn't in English, and he was too tired to be bothered.

Six out of the seven rescued, and there was no point worrying about the other. Dead was dead.

A conference was going on, and Jebedee came to him, "Come on, Harry, time to get up."

Harry looked up wearily. He didn't want to move, but Jebedee extended an arm, and he allowed himself to be pulled up from the floor. He seemed to be more stiff and sore than ever.

They took him to a small sitting room, and Therese and the Austrian mediwizard were conferring. The aurors had gone off to celebrate with their Austrian colleagues, only Anthony waited with Harry. He rested his head back and closed his eyes, not bothering to object as Therese touched instruments to throat, and to arm. His weariness drifted into sleep, as most of his companions drifted into party mode. He wanted to go home, but he was too tired to apparate. He might as well be here as anywhere.

Beth checked on him from home, and recognised instantly that he slept. The dream images were all of Luna - Luna doing ordinary things. Just ordinary things. Nothing special, just there.

Anthony turned his head away from Harry, feeling as if he had spied on something very personal. Harry was looking so sad in his sleep, and tears were on his cheeks.

Three hours later, Anthony had been relieved by Jebedee, and Therese had checked him again, and still he had not woken. No-one else was in a hurry - the Austrian and English aurors were having a wonderful time together. They were the same sort of people, and when three of the aurors who had been afflicted were able to join them, there was some very loud rejoicing.

Harry finally opened his eyes to find Sanaz in his room. She was a beautiful girl, and he suddenly knew what he needed. It was nothing to do with Luna, or being unfaithful to her, and he would not make any suggestions to Sanaz.

Sanaz looked up as he stood, and checked his watch. "Have I been asleep all this time?" he asked.

Sanaz nodded, and wondered what he was looking in his wallet for.

Harry felt fine now, perfectly willing to apparate, and he'd remembered a French brothel. He hoped it was still there. Unfortunately, he had far too little money on him for that, and turned his mind to food, instead. He asked where the others were, and Sanaz suggested they go and join them.

Harry laughed when he came into the aurors' area. There were large men everywhere, English and Austrian, and they all seemed to be drunk. Mark and an Austrian were arm in arm, and singing. There was a young man and a young woman dancing on a table - they appeared to be doing a strip tease. Anthony was very close to another young woman snuggling on a couch, presumably conjured. He spotted Jebedee who seemed to be demonstrating some sort of a throat hold to an Austrian, who seemed even larger than himself. There didn't seem to be any problem communicating - there was shouting and laughter in both languages.

But there was food, too, and Harry made his way straight to the food. It was a long time since that lunch he'd bought at the bakery. He ate, and he watched, inconspicuous in a corner. He may have been the hero of the hour, but no-one aside from Sanaz even noticed he was there. But then he stretched. It didn't look like anyone was thinking of providing transport home, so he decided he'd just apparate. He supposed he'd better tell Mark he was going.

But then he thought of something better. It was after hours, and there must be a lot of unoccupied rooms in this place, and there were women, not many, but some. His eyes roamed as he leaned quietly against the wall in his corner. A woman looked at him, and he smiled, suddenly radiating an aura of pure sex.

Sanaz watched as a young woman left her group, and went straight over to him. "Hello," she said, "Are you with the English team?"

"That's right," said Harry. She told him her name, and then they wandered off together. Sanaz followed them, quietly, unobtrusively. Harry knew she was there, but took no notice.

It was an hour later when they returned, and Harry told Sanaz, who seemed to be the only one unaffected by alcohol, that he was going home.

Therese suddenly spotted him and hurried over, very giggly. "Don't go, Harry, You're not fit to apparate."

But Harry smiled slightly, and said that he thought he might be about the only one left that was fit to apparate. He vanished before she could start fussing again.

Harry had come to some acceptance of his loss, but that didn't mean that he was happy. He was very, very lonely.

He talked to his horses the following day, finally hopping astride the nervous bay, to feel the gelding quivering beneath him. Even with the communication he had with his horses, somehow this one remained nervous, shying and trembling over nothing. It was not until Beth mounted that the horse settled down. It appeared that Beth could calm anything - except for other children...

A few days later, Chris and Peter Barnes turned up, and Harry's manager sighed. The youngsters were totally inexperienced city boys, they were muggles, and he had no need for any other staff in any case. But Harry was the boss, and Harry said that if they wanted a job, they should have it.

So Chris and Peter became workers on the estate, and learned to groom horses, repair fences and patrol borders. It wasn't long before they noticed that others of the workers had unusual ways of doing things, but Harry asked them to keep quiet about magic, and Bill Forrester told them if they blabbed they'd be in big trouble, and they quickly became accustomed to the odd things that happened around them now and then. It was a different life, but it was a long way better than they had had. They were given a fair-sized room each in the workers' quarters, and ate in the staff dining room. They were soon as loyal and useful employees as any on the place.

Wednesday, Harry was back at Hermione's doing his spell-breaking stint there. Anthony was rostered to be in the room, with Sanaz and Trevor on guard outside - more than usual as rumours had been circulating that someone was out to get Potter again.

There was quite a large list that day, as Harry had not done the job since a couple of weeks before Luna died. But they were all quick and easy, and it was not quite an hour later Harry was finished. Harry was still not wearing shoes, and Hermione suggested she have a look at his feet. Jodie, Therese and Hermione kept in contact, and Hermione knew that Harry had turned up very battered the day after the funeral, so was not surprised that his feet were still sore.

Anthony still leaned inconspicuously in the corner, as Hermione patted some lotion on the worst areas, and told him they'd be better soon. Once she was finished, Anthony told Harry that he was wanted at the Ministry. Something about his phrasing worried Harry, and he looked up frowning, "I'm not in trouble for something, am I?"

But Anthony had a half grin in his face, and said, "No, you're not in trouble," and only afterwards thought about why Harry's mind should immediately jump to trouble from the Ministry.

They apparated straight to the atrium of the Ministry, Harry and the three aurors. Harry was thinking that it was probably only that they wanted him to resume doing the overseas spell-breaking excursions, but he wasn't sure if he should leave Beth.

Beth was wishing that Harry would resume doing the trips, as Harry was difficult for her to be near, now. She felt she needed alternate weeks off. Harry carried such a load of pain with him, although he seldom showed it. She could offer comfort, and Harry tried to support her, too, in her own great loss. But Beth found that she had to work hard to shut off his pain from her consciousness. The skill she had learned in third world countries, where they had seen poverty and despair, was now used to protect herself from her own father.

Harry followed Trevor down the Ministry corridor without comment, Anthony and Sanaz behind. Trevor opened a door, ushering him in ahead, and there was a sudden shout and strangers were reaching for him. Kingsley had forgotten how quick Harry was. He had his wand out, and his back to the wall, before the Austrian aurors knew what was happening. They had only wanted to thank him, to pat his back and hug him if he permitted. It hadn't occurred to anyone that he might think he was under attack, and they retreated, looking at him in bafflement.

Harry looked at their confused faces, and at Kingsley and Mark, and others that he knew. He reddened, and put his wand away, apologising. More carefully, a large man approached, and he put out a hand, thanking Harry with dignity. But Harry could feel the emotion that the tough man didn't show. He was followed by others. Four of the aurors whom he had rescued were there, although one was still not at work - at home, but not yet ready to go out.

He hadn't been noticed at the party in Austria when he had finally appeared, and the woman who had shared pleasure with him only knew him as Harry. She hadn't related the attractive man she thought she had seduced, with the awe-inspiring great wizard himself, whom she envisaged as old and bearded. She had been teased dreadfully when word had spread, and there was a lot of quizzing about this other performance that would have had Harry blushing a lot more red if he'd known.

Kingsley and Mark watched, smiling, as Harry started to look more and more awkward. He was never comfortable being thanked, and was suddenly conscious that he was walking around without shoes still.

At length, Kingsley called for quiet, and the Austrian Minister for Magic made a speech, which Stan translated. Harry found the speech tedious. It was too long, that is, it was longer than three minutes, and he always hated speeches, and a speech that said how valuable he was and what a wonderful thing he had done, seemed even worse. Kingsley noticed that he kept looking at the window, as if he was thinking of escaping.

He was finally presented with some sort of honour, and he replied with a courteous few words, remembering to thank the Austrian Ministry for their hospitality, and his mind flew to a certain young woman. Several of the Austrian aurors thought of that, too, but Sanaz had kept his small adventure quiet among their own people.

It was a very high honour that Harry had been presented with, as Kingsley and Stan tried to impress on him. But he put it in his drawer and forgot about it. His Order of Merlin had been lost for over forty years.

On Beth's urging, Harry sent word to Chris Abbot that he could resume doing the spell-breaking sessions if required, and Chris started making arrangements. Beth told him that he was not to worry returning home at night, that she was perfectly all right without him. Harry felt her sincerity, but didn't quite comprehend her reasons. He knew she loved him, and did not feel as if he was rejected.

Beth occupied herself with Harry's horses, her cats and her snakes. She now rode the nervous bay frequently, and there was another horse that was no longer lame, that she had started riding. She didn't ride in the way her father did, though. For Beth, the horses went steadily. Bucking and twisting and galloping at full speed was not for plump Beth. She liked riding - it saved her from walking, and she enjoyed the communion with the minds of the horses.

Next year, Beth was supposed to be going to Hogwarts. She thought she would try it. She was a lot tougher than she had been, she could defend herself if needed, and she could block off the hatred she felt emanating from others. It was no longer a happiness to be at home.

Beth knew that Harry went with other women, but she was not like James had been. James had resented Harry's disloyalty to his first wife Ginny, after she had died. Beth didn't see it as disloyalty, and took it for granted.

Mark gave Harry four aurors again for his next trip. There were those rumours of death threats again, and also he thought that Harry might not be as easy to look after as he had been when married to Luna. He continued his previous practice, trying to expose him to as many of the aurors as possible. There were another two aurors with whom Harry had not worked before. Jebedee, Sanaz, Byron and Dean, Byron to be in the room with him as he worked, Jebedee in charge.

Therese was there again, of course, and annoyed Harry this time by wanting to do an examination at the end of the first day, even though it had been a perfectly easy day. His feet were finally better, but again she found that he was too thin, and his energy levels remained low. The LV was still down a touch from his normal, too.

That evening at dinner, Jebedee noticed that Harry's eyes were following Sanaz, and he resolved to have a word with Mark. Like Mark, he did not think it a good idea for Harry to attempt to bed his bodyguards. But Harry made no move, and only went to his room early, before disapparating from within. He found himself a bit listless these days, and was lazy. The brothel was finding him a good customer again.

The week went smoothly, there were a few times when he needed to exert a little effort, and he realised himself that his power was down. Those ones should not have needed any extra effort. Therese continued to check him more frequently than he thought necessary, until he threw a tantrum, and told her to keep her blasted monitor to himself, and then slipped his bodyguards and walked hard and fast through the city.

They were relieved when he returned. It was less than a month since he had lost his wife, and he was cross again when his companions were so understanding.

On Wednesday back in London, there was a client for him called Bob Pickering. He was difficult, but he very much needed to be cured. It was another of those unpleasant and painful skin conditions, that sometimes needed a lot of effort. And this time, Harry tried the telepathic method of curing first, but was thrown out of Pickering's mind with such force that he held his head for a moment, feeling dizzy. He hated to think how he would have felt if he had not tried to shield his mind. But after that, he sent the man to wait for a bit while he finished the other patients. And then he just rested a few minutes, accepting the sweet biscuits that Hermione offered him.

A woman called Beryl was the Ministry Observer, and this was her first time. Harry was staring at the wall, only half hearing as Hermione explained to the woman as best she could, how strong magic in the air could be very frightening. Hermione went and explained to Pickering, too, waiting in the waiting room. The receptionist, listening, was glad that she didn't have to be present.

Harry was staring at the wall, an expression of such sadness on his face that it hurt Hermione. "Ready, Harry?" she asked.

He looked blankly at her a moment. "Oh, yes, Pickering. Yes I'm ready."

He took his place in front of Pickering, and raised his wand. Beryl was daunted and impressed, but as Harry had feared, he didn't have the power that he was accustomed to, and had to allow his magic to die down without any result. He apologised to his patient, and said that he should come back when called, that he would be able to do better in a few weeks maybe.

Hermione and Beryl were both listening closely. Harry had definitely implied that he was not fully fit. He was too tired to apparate, although he thought that he'd be better in a while, and he asked Hermione if she minded if he rested at her rooms for a bit.

"Of course," said Hermione, who had every intention of forbidding him to apparate in any case.

"Thank you, Beryl" said Harry in an unmistakable dismissal, and Beryl left the room, but had her inconspicuous eavesdropping device in place as she waited in the waiting room.

Without comment, Hermione was quietly getting out her monitor. Harry was just sitting in one of the comfortable easychairs that he often conjured for himself, wherever he was, head back, eyes closed. But when she asked in a matter of fact way for Harry should roll up his shirt sleeve, he refused. "You were saying that you could do better in a few weeks? Are you sick?"

"I'm not sick, I'll be better in a while."

Hermione started casually to roll up his shirt sleeve herself, as Jodie was apt to do. He glared at her, but didn't try and stop her. She started to say something, but he rather briskly interrupted, saying that Beryl was probably listening in.

Beryl, sitting innocently in the waiting room, coolly took note, but didn't stop listening in.

"You're not yourself, are you, Harry?" Hermione said quietly.

Harry forgot entirely that there was a listener and said quietly, "What do you expect? I've just lost my wife! I can't get over that in a day!" And suddenly he was up, forgetting his fatigue, and pacing up and down the room. "For the second time!" and his voice was shaking. "First there was Ginny, and she was my life, and now there's Luna, and she was a part of me! Is it any wonder that I have not so much to give?" But his pacing slowed, and he sat back in his chair. He no longer revolted at the loss of his wife. He had accepted the fact, but he was sometimes overwhelmed by his bitter loneliness.

Hermione took her readings, now that he was staying still, and she opened her eyes. Therese didn't know that his normal LV reading was so high, but Hermione did. Harry was a very long way from his normal self. The energy level was very low, too. And now that he was still, and not objecting, she checked his weight, and a few other odds and ends as well.

"You should take a holiday," she suggested. Harry said wearily, "I don't think so, Hermione. They look after me terribly well, and I don't feel like a holiday. And anyhow, it's not like someone else can just do the job for me. There's an awful lot that are still no effort!"

Harry's relationship with his aurors was often contradictory. Mark was a friend, who cared very much for him, but he listened attentively to Beryl's report, with never a thought that maybe Harry was entitled to his privacy.

At the same time, while Harry had begun to treat the aurors as friends most of the time, if he wanted to slip the leash, he never hesitated. He had less freedom when he was with, or followed by an auror. And he didn't think a fight was fair if he ran no risk of being hurt!

***chapter end***