Disclaimer: Harry Potter, most characters and the magical world as depicted, belong to J. K. Rowling.

Chapter 13:

Early in October, Amelia Bones called Harry into her office. She politely greeted him, then led him to a conference room, where a particularly tempting afternoon tea was laid out. Harry took one glance, and asked, "What do you want, Amelia?"

Madam Bones was a bit taken aback at this instant perception, but two more people entered at that moment, saving her from having to answer. One was Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Amelia introduced the second as Stan McMillan. Stan greeted Harry as Professor Potter, but Harry shook his head, "Not a professor any more, Stan."

Amelia started to pour him coffee. She had long since taken note of how he took his coffee, and Harry found himself seated at the table, coffee in hand, exactly as he liked it, and a tempting roll in front of him.

He was feeling distinctly amused now - what did she want of him? But as soon as Amelia added the information that Stan headed the Department of International Cooperation, he thought he knew the answer. It was a few years ago now, that Amelia had raised the subject of doing a week at a time in a foreign countries, doing his spell-breaking work there. And even before she raised the subject he had decided to agree. His youngest child, James, was now at Hogwarts, and apparently not talking to him in any case, and he had nothing better to do.

After Amelia decided he was sufficiently mellowed with food and coffee, Stan McMillan put forward the basic idea. He had made initial approaches to several European countries, and they had been eager. He didn't mention how well they were prepared to pay, or that his work would bring prestige to the British Ministry and possible concessions when there were disputes or deals to be made. Rather, after a hint from Amelia, he spoke of unfortunate witches and wizards, lives blighted by spells, often for years, whom Harry could help. Many of them could not afford to come to Hermione's sessions. For Harry to go there was a public service.

Harry said casually, "Sounds all right."

McMillan went on to a few details. The Ministry would do all the organising, and a deputation would be sent. There would be a translator, and there would be a bodyguard. And he added, "The aurors are for your protection, and you must, of course, do exactly what they say."

Harry's brow immediately creased, and Kingsley acted quickly, saying smoothly, "Mr. Potter has never done what his bodyguards tell him in England - I don't think we can expect any better obedience from him overseas!"

Harry said, "I don't accept the need for bodyguards, and I don't like being followed. I think what I should do is just drop in to the various Ministries next time I'm there, and offer my services."

This was not at all what Madam Bones wanted, and, able politician that she was, she had a hard time explaining to Harry just why that was impossible. But she reminded him of language difficulties, and spoke about organisational difficulties, concluding, "It will be much more convenient for you, Harry, if we do all the organising."

Harry finally shrugged, and agreed. He was no organiser. The Ministry could look after him if that's what they wanted, although, of course, no auror was going to tell him what to do! He did specify one thing, that it should be pointed out that he sometimes failed. He didn't want anyone thinking that he was infallible.

"That's not very often, though, is it, Harry?" said Kingsley, who invariably checked the reports of the 'Observers.'

"Now and then. I've got a list. One day I might work out how to do the ones I fail."

"Now it's decided, there's one other person I want you to meet," said Amelia, and she asked McMillan to fetch Chris.

A few minutes later, a young man with an anxiously furrowed forehead and glasses was introduced. Harry knew Christopher Abbot, too. He had been in Hufflepuff, and had needed a lot of help in his senior years to get the marks needed to join the Ministry. Abbot was to be his liaison officer, and if he had any special requirements, it was Abbot he should go to.

"Do you have any special requirements, Professor?" asked Abbot.

"Call me Harry," said Harry, casually and automatically. "No special requirements."

He put a couple of questions of his own. "How are we travelling? Apparating?"

"No, we'll mostly go by aeroplane, as we'll often be travelling too far to apparate."

"And accommodation?"

"Accommodation will be arranged by the host country." He continued, "It might take a week to set up the first time, but if things go well, we'll do a session every second week for a time, see how it goes. The work with Healer Granger can be done every alternate week."

They showed him where Chris Abbot's office was, and told him if anything came up, he was to go to him, no appointment needed. Harry was agreeable. It sounded quite interesting.

Monday, two weeks later, Harry Potter presented himself at the Ministry of Magic, and he was whisked smoothly to an aeroplane, accompanied by three aurors, plus Stan McMillan, who had decided to go along himself the first time, and to his surprise, the new Ministry Healer, an attractive young woman called Jodie Bagshott. It was explained to him that she was there as part of the team - so that no foreign government should be able to complain if a cure went wrong.

No-one told him that Healer Bagshott had been instructed that part of her duties was to keep a close eye on Harry Potter, and try to ensure his continued health. He was known to indulge in dangerous behaviour, and occasionally to exhaust himself doing his cures. Hopefully, she was to prevent this, although how she was supposed to stop Harry Potter doing exactly as he wished, was not explained.

The five wizards and one witch, in muggle clothing, of course, were VIPs. The airport staff treated them with utmost courtesy, they were given a special private lounge, and their luggage not searched. They were treated as if they had diplomatic immunity, in fact. This was an aspect of wizard/muggle relations at the top, that was new to Harry. When he had travelled by muggle transport, he had put charms on his luggage, with the result that it was never searched, and on his passport, which was always held to be in order. There was no need for that this time, and he enjoyed the novelty of this special treatment.

Healer Hermione Granger had been consulted as to the numbers of patients that were to be booked in each day. An interim figure of sixty for each full day, divided into four segments was finally settled on. Although Harry was known to be very quick, it was also known that occasionally difficult patients would occur, and that he was not always prudent when it came to judging his own capabilities. Harry Potter was the only wizard in the world who could cure these people, and a lifetime's accumulation was to be treated in this week's effort.

The French were effusive in their welcome, but irritated him by treating him like some rare specimen. And he was sure that some of them were looking at him with speculation in their eyes - surely that damned video hadn't made it this far. He reacted by becoming cool and emotionless, freezing off some undesired overtures before they started.

After a meal, the party was shown into the room where Harry was to work his magic. Mark, who was now a senior auror, also took his place within the room, Bedwin was to guard outside the door. Jebedee was off duty. He was to do the evening and night shift. Kingsley expected that the evening hours would be the most arduous shift, and Jebedee was young, large and fit.

But Harry looked around. There seemed to be a ridiculously large number of people in the room, and he spoke to Stan, suggesting that most of them leave. There seemed to be at least a dozen French observers, but the French Coordinator gesticulated volubly, protesting, and Harry eventually intervened, he wanted to get on with it. Maybe they'd soon get bored

After that, it was just a repetition of his normal work, waving his wand over the wizards and witches as they were led in, and then steered out again, the spells broken. The thank yous in French rather than in English, aside from that, no change.

The week proceeded smoothly, although the aurors protested when Harry went out every evening, they didn't know where. 'How can we protect you if we don't know where you are?' they'd protest. Harry would shrug. He wasn't going to do without sex for a whole week, although he was surprised to see that the others seemed to be accepting that terrible deprivation without any concern.

After the first two days, the numbers of spectators diminished as they became bored, but on the third day, Harry had to put some effort into breaking a spell, and the observers felt the tingling in the air that only Mark had felt before. There were excited murmurings and comments, and three of the French suddenly bolted, until Harry ceased his magic, turned on the observers, and in reasonable, if not fluent, French, asked them to please leave the room, or for goodness sake be quiet, he needed to concentrate!

And he glared at them as some decided to leave, and some shuffled their feet, looked ashamed, and stayed. There were two more that day the same. The feel of strong magic in the air could be daunting to some, but it only took a few minutes longer than usual, and only the mediwizard noticed that Harry tended to eat more after such a patient.

To Jebedee's relief, it appeared that Harry wasn't planning on going out that evening, saying he was a little tired, making Jodie look up. Should she say anything, maybe suggest he have a checkup? Her Nisco Monitor gave a very good indication of energy reserves. And breaking 'unbreakable' spells in these numbers was unprecedented. Luckily, she decided not to say anything. While Harry was customarily polite and friendly, suggestions of unwanted medical examinations, especially by Ministry Healers, was likely to try his patience.

Harry went early to bed that night, and Jebedee, relieved that he would not have to report to Kingsley that he'd slipped the leash for the third night running, took station outside his door.

Harry fell into a deep sleep. On occasion, his spell-breaking did indeed take some energy.

It wasn't even midnight, and Harry was tossing and moaning in his sleep. He fidgeted, throwing aside his blankets, but it was only when the sound of a gentle and tender voice entered his mind, Tears, Harry? that he jerked fully awake, sitting white-faced and trembling on the side of his bed.

Harry Potter had had nightmares like this for many years, since efforts were made when he was still in his teens, to make him a prisoner, drugged and helpless. It was really only the appearance of Smith-Burton's voice that had changed since the kidnapping, the feeling of helplessness and the terror of confinement were the same. He rose from his bed, had a shower to banish the sweat of his nightmare, dressed, and let himself out of his room, surprising Jebedee half asleep in a chair outside his room. It surprised Harry, too. "Do you do this every night?" he asked.

"Every night you're in," said Jebedee. "There hasn't been much point so far." Harry had spent the previous two nights with a young woman he had met on the beach Monday evening.

Harry regarded him, "Well, I'm sorry, but I'm going out again."

"Harry!" protested Jebedee. And then suggested, "The bar's still open downstairs, How about we go there?"

Harry actually quite liked Jebedee, and he had nothing else in mind, so he agreed.

It was very late, few people were about, and conversation flowed. Harry admitted at one point that he sometimes didn't sleep well, and Jebedee, expecting this duty every fortnight, groaned to himself. His father had warned him that the evening shift with Harry could be lively, but so far it had been very boring indeed, as Harry had just vanished.

Harry generally tended to ignore the aurors who were assigned to look after him, always regarding it as an imposition, but this evening, he was being quietly companionable, and Jebedee asked him something. "Zack told us a few weeks ago that you said you've never trusted aurors, or the Ministry. - Why not?"

Harry looked into the distance, and said, "I suppose it's a long time ago now, and Amelia's all right."

He looked curiously at Jebedee, "Don't you know? Has your father never told you?"

"No, but I think I heard something once - something to do with Voldemort?"

"There was that, and then they tried to put me away again a few years later, for no reason at all, really. That was Cornelius Fudge Amelia is all right, but she won't be there forever and aurors tend to obey orders, right or wrong." Harry grinned. "I'm outliving a lot of my enemies - who would have thought it? Voldemort's contemporaries are old men or dead, although I suppose there must be some younger wizards who followed him, too. And those aurors who went against me - John Dawlish is dead, and probably more are retired. Do you know Bruce O'Brien?"

"Retired."

"Charles Mason?"

"He's still around, he's a great chap, very helpful, sometimes."

Harry asked, "Richard Tomlinson?"

"Never heard of him."

"Sean Pickering?"

"Dead last year in a fight against a pair of murderers, him and Ian McFarlane."

"What about Ian Jackson?"

"He's still around," answered Jebedee. "Why do you ask about them?"

"They obeyed orders, they tried to take me - and would have too, if it wasn't for Dumbledore."

"You still have enemies. How about the ones who took you a few months ago?"

"Well, they achieved their aim, didn't they? My reputation and influence are destroyed, and there's no need for any further action against me. I'm probably safer now than I ever have been."

Jebedee was silent. Harry was right. His reputation was indeed destroyed. There were rumours that he was to be sacked from the Wizemgamot, and he was no longer asked to preside at Hearings or take part on Ministerial Committees. It was hard for anyone who had seen that video to be with him without it colouring their thoughts, and Jebedee looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. He had seen it, almost everyone in the wizarding world had seen it. People were too curious not to watch when it was so easily available.

Harry instantly and correctly interpreted the change in body language of his companion, and rose to his feet, "I'm just going out for a bit, I'll be back in an hour or so."

"I don't suppose you'll tell me where you're going."

"Nowhere dangerous tonight. I'll even give you a call when I come back, if you want."

Jebedee smiled wryly. This was a concession, and he agreed that he would like to be informed. So Harry went to a Paris brothel for an hour, and when he returned, he knocked at Jebedee's door as he had promised, and slept peacefully until morning.

Thursday was the last day of spell-breaking, the constant stream of appointments coming to an end, with just a few extra loaded onto Thursday afternoon, rather than having the work continue Friday.

Stan McMillan, the head of the Department for International Cooperation was very happy indeed at the way things had gone. The French and the English Ministries together, had arranged a large dinner function for that night, and he told Harry that he was expected to be there. Minister Bones was tickled pink. She would be attending the dinner, as well as other Ministry officials, including Kingsley Shacklebolt. Representatives of those whom he had healed were to be there - there was a Beauxbatons professor, for instance, who had been wearing antlers for the last thirty years!

Harry was seated between Amelia Bones and the French Minister for the meal, like a prize exhibit, Harry felt, and he became more and more annoyed and impatient.

The dinner finally ended, to his relief, and he was trying to think of an excuse to vanish, but as soon as Amelia Bones let go his arm, Stan McMillan led him over to someone else to introduce him. Harry tried hard to be polite, but became more and more edgy as people fawned over him, a couple of young witches made it obvious that they were available to him, and a few wizards tried to joke with him about his sexual preferences.

Kingsley was beginning to be worried, and the two aurors who were assigned to stay close at all times were waiting for an explosion.

Harry was trying to make his way to the exit, although it seemed that no-one else was ready to leave. He finally made a light explode at the other side of the room, drawing everyone's attention, allowing him to slip out the door.

"That was awful. I'm damned if I'm doing that again," he said to Mark, who was waiting outside. Jebedee, who had kept close, followed him out, although Bedwin had been a bit slow, and was still inside.

Harry was in deep green dress robes, unsuitable for muggle society, and after being what he thought was well behaved all evening, he was going out for a bit of fun! In his room, he swiftly changed, wearing now a casual shirt, and a rather disreputable pair of jeans. Jebedee groaned aloud as he made his appearance again outside his door.

Harry just gave him a mischievous grin. "Don't follow me," he said. "I don't want company tonight."

Kingsley suddenly apparated close by, and he, too, groaned, as he took in Harry's appearance. Kingsley tried, "We won't interfere," he said in his deepest, most persuasive voice, "But you know you get yourself into trouble sometimes. Just let Jebedee go with you, or maybe just keep a watch from a distance."

Harry shook his head, "I've had a lot to put up with this evening, and now I'm out for a bit of fun!" His eyes were sparkling with merriment and anticipation. Before there was time for any more objections, he vanished in front of their eyes, just before Mark and Bedwin appeared, looking for their charge.

"See, Father, I really can't help it," said Jebedee, but Kingsley said, "I've never been able to exercise the slightest control over him myself."

The English Ministry was unwilling to admit how little control they had over their pet wizard, so there was no liaison with the French Ministry or the muggle police, and Kingsley only sent out the three aurors at his disposal to three areas of the city that he felt were the most likely possible destinations for a mad young wizard out for trouble.

They didn't find him, not until he limped in to the hotel a few hours later, happy as a lark and covered in bruises. Jodie had the first job she'd had all week when Kingsley roused her to treat Harry's bruises.

Harry hadn't wanted Kingsley to wake Jodie, but since she was awake, he obediently sat on his bed, wearing only underpants, as Jodie smeared a pink lotion over his numerous bruises. Kingsley was sitting on a chair in the corner.

Harry was still happy and relaxed, as Jodie started giving him a lecture on fighting, just as Hermione and Poppy were apt to do. But Harry defended himself. "All week, I've been healing the results of what is mostly wizard duelling. Nasty skin conditions, antlers, horns, horrible deformities. Wizards sneer at muggle duelling, but all I have and all I've given are a few bruises! So who's civilised?"

This was the first chance that Jodie had had to have a sight of Harry without his clothes, and she immediately suspected that he was going to be one of those rare wizards and witches, maybe one or two in a generation, who have a very long life span.

Kingsley, too, was frowning at Harry, trying to remember just how old he was now. Harry stood when Jodie had finished smearing on the lotion, and his body looked lithe, vigorous, and most of all, young.

Jodie was seizing her opportunity, and pulled out a monitor. But Harry refused, stating firmly that he was not going to be further examined, and just for good measure, his eyes narrowed for a moment on the monitor, which would now show an LV of 105 as a top reading. He didn't like appearing abnormal, although he was still oblivious to the fact that his very body was beginning to proclaim that fact, at least to anyone who knew that he was no longer a young man.

He was beginning to feel sleepy, and he yawned and stretched, muscles suddenly moving temptingly on that delicious body. Jodie couldn't help herself. She stretched out a hand and touched his shoulder.

Kingsley got up, saying that Jebedee would take up station outside the door, as soon as he got in, and he left the pair. It seemed to him that if Harry found what he wanted within their own ranks, he was less likely to indulge in risky behaviour.

But Harry was looking at her, his eyes shadowed. He never went with witches, it would make for complications, and Jodie was disappointed as he made no response to her quite obvious invitation. She might have been happier if she'd seen him after she left. He was always quickly aroused, and paced the floor for a while. He might even have resorted to another trip to the brothel if he hadn't been so tired.

The following morning, a small bus conveyed the enlarged party to the airport, and this time Harry discovered that a small private aeroplane had been organised, taking them swiftly back to England. He still thought that it had been only a small way, and that any competent wizard should be able to apparate that far, but of course, some of his companions were a bit old, especially Amelia Bones, and then there was luggage to worry about as well.

Stan told him to expect Munich, Germany, the week after next, and Harry took the opportunity to say that he would not be attending any more functions like that of the previous night. The others could do what they chose, but if they organised anything else like that, he would go and get fish and chips for himself!

Stan spluttered about his obligations to international relations, but Harry asked how it would be for international relations if he'd blasted the hand of the personal assistant to the French Minister, who had apparently thought it OK to have a grope! He had become convinced the previous evening that the pornographic video had done the rounds, and thought he was to be commended for his extraordinary self-control. Some of his companions, knowing of his recent troubles, agreed.

For a time, then, Harry would be found at a different country every second week, garnering prestige for the Ministry, but not actually making much money himself. Three aurors, a mediwizard, and sometimes Christopher Abbot, the Trip Coordinator, all reduced the profits of the expeditions, and the Ministry took its cut first, before Harry. Harry was left with the small amount that was left.

He never actually noticed, although his secretary was intending to bring it up with him - she thought he was being taken advantage of.

***chapter end***