Ah..you know!

Speech

Thought

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"Whoa.."

That one word was pretty much all Harry could say when the trio of part-veela took him into their home country's capital. The Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triumph, the Louvre', part of him wanted to check it all out right off the bat while the other half was more keen on savoring it. His tour guides, however, other plans.

Maison le Vertu Curative, the Parisian version of , turned out to be the group's first stop of the day. It took the healers little over three hours to repair all the scarring on Harry's body, the basilisk mark being the only one they couldn't clear completely. At first, a handful of the medics began cursing the Dursleys with every word they had when it was learned how he got so many scars, but things settled when they were told of the family's fate.

After that; barring 'Gabbie's' delighted squeal at learning Harry's full name was 'Harrison' , the same as her favorite actor, (he had learned previously the youngest Delacour was an avid 'Indiana Jones' fan), only one thing remained...

Harry let out a sharp exhale as he sat up. The scar removal had had been a tad on the painful side, since they had to literaly cut out the scar tissue and regrow skin over the damaged areas, leaving his whole body slightly sore and his mouth a tad numb from the blood replenishment and painkiller potions he had to take turn the procedure. Laying on a hospital bed in just his boxers didn't really help matters. He looked over as one of the medics who had worked on him came over; a slightly rotund fellow with more hair on his face then the rest of him. The obvious differences in his robes from the others seemed to indicate he was a higher rank.

"Ah, Mr. Potter. I take it you're feeling better without all those..'reminders' of the people you used to live with?" He asked, lightly patting Harry's shoulder.

"You have no idea." He chuckled for a second before his body rudely reminded him of what it had gone through, "I was wondering...can you remove magic blocks?" He took a moment to explain things, making the doctor's hedge-like eyebrows elevate.

"From your description of them, I'd surmise that the smaller ones were ones your parents applied when you were younger to help neutralize any bouts of accidental magic. As for the larger one, well, it'd have to be examined to determine exactly what it's doing so we can unlock it properly." He took his wand out from inside this robe, "If it's all right with you, I'd like to go ahead and take a look at it."

Remembering the 'lessons' with Snape, Harry was hesitant to let someone in his mind again. But the mediwizard gave his word that the blocks would be all he'd look at and Harry gave the ok and felt the tip of a wand lightly tap his temple.

After what felt like far longer than it really way, the medic pulled out, his face puffed out with rage, "Whoever put that on you should be beaten to within an inch of their misbegotten life!"

"What is it? Harry asked, somewhat surprised at the doctor's current state.

"The smaller ones are indeed from your parents, but the larger one is meant only for prisoners! It's a damper, designed to completely separate a person from their magic until it's removed. However, this one seems to have been modified slightly to let the bare minimum out. Whoever put it on you really needs a good knocking about."

"Too kind for that meddling old fart, in my opinion." Harry thought to himself, "Can it be removed?"

"It most certainly can be, and will be." He went over to a table laden with potions and took one that Harry recognized as one for dreamless sleep, "I tend to be the one who puts blocks like that on prisoners, so it should take me too long to undo yours. But, this should help you get around the wait. Your parents blocks should have been removed when you started school, so I'll be undoing those as well." He handed Harry the vial.

"Well, down the hatch." He downed the contents and almost immediately dropped back into unconsciousness.

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"Anything?" Dumbledore looked at Kingsley and Moody as he finished up a bout of pacing around his office.

"Absolutley nothing." Shacklebolt said, "Potter's nowhere at all on the British Isles, England, Scotland, or Ireland."

The headmaster froze, "What?"

"The boy's left the region, Albus." Moody growled, "I'd have to say he's somehow managed to get to Continental Europe. If that's the case, he's out of the British Ministry's jurisdiction."

"You can't be serious, Moody." Dumbledore said, "Harry must be found!"

"We have no authority to go charging other there, Dumbledore. Countries like Italy and Germany have their own ministries, and they wouldn't take too kindly to ours trying to throw its weight around.."

Dumbledore ran a hand through his beard in exasperation, "What can we do??"

"Best we can do is let them know and ask that they keep an eye out. Aside from that...wait for him to come back."

No sooner did Moody finish his sentence than one of the larger silver devices in the office, something resembling a vase with a rotating top, came to a grinding halt and let out a massive bang and puff of smoke, before Moddy's reflexes blasted it into oblivion.

"Dammit, Albus!" Moddy snarled, "I wish you'd warn me about some of those gizmos of yours!"

Dumbledore, however was more concerned with the fact it had stopped, "This isn't good...that one was monitoring the blocks i had put on him. If that's stopped, then somehow he's gotten somebody to remove them..but that's impossible! I applied them myself."

"Headmaster?" Kingsley piped up, noticing the concentration he was exerting on the destroyed device, "Are you all right?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, quite." He snapped out of his focus, "Very well, let me know if you get any word of 's return."

"If he even wants to return.." Kingsley said under his breath as he left, getting a look of agreement from the retired auror.

Now alone, Dumbledore turned his attention back to the device, franticaly thinking of a way to undo the damage that's already been done to his plans.

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"Who turned on the bloody lights..?" Harry muttered as he woke from the potion's effects. What greeted him, though, was a drastic difference from before. Fleur, Gabrielle and Genvieve all hovering over him worriedly. The room he had been in was now in shambles. Every piece of furniture had been tossed around, the window cracked and the bed was now scorched and shredded. He looked to see the mediwizard being held up by two others, his robes in the same condition and even his beard and eyebrows were partially burned off.

"Harry! What happened?! We were waiting outside when this blast erupted! It even knocked the door halfway off its hinges!

"I..I think that was my fault." The wizard coughed as he finally got his legs back, "I removed his remaining blocks a tad too quickly it seems. All the magic that had been restrained for 16 years came out like a dam bursting. The result..well..you can see for yourself."

Harry climbed to his feet and marveled to himself at the now unbound magic he felt coursing through his body. "A fellow could get used to this." He smiled to himself, at least until another voice, this one even gruffer than Moody, suddenly spoke up.

"Aye, lad! And it be about time ye got those blasted things off! Ah ben' tryin' tah get hold 'o' ya fer the last two bloomin' weeks!"

"Who the hell..?!"

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Yes I'm evil for stopping there. But you get three guesses to who that voice is. And no, it's not Gryffindor

Maison le Vertu Curative: House of Healing Power. At least, that's what I'm hoping it translates to. I was using an online dictionary for it.

Next time: The tour continues.