Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling. The Wishmaster belongs to the Writers/Producers that made it. Every other element has come from my mind and some hard research on the Djinn.

This is my longest chapter yet, and a fun one to write, even if a few part just wrote themselves.

All my previous chapters have now been fully edited, note that the scene with Lance in chapter 4 have been redone slightly. Chapter 4 on my Ao3 account has pictures included of both Lance and Harry bike.

For clarities sake, I'll point out the Djinn can play fast and loose with wishes, and what constitutes a wish. So any expressed desire, or a desire prompted by Harry, falls into the scope of a wish.

A big thank you again to my beta cerberus309 for continuing to help improve my writing style, it means a lot.

Chapter 7: The Djinn wears Prada

"Wotcher, guys."

They pulled up short and spun around at the bottom of the steps to the bank.

A short, wizened old lady had spoken, a lock of pink hair just visible from under the hood.

"Tonks! What are you doing here?" Harry half-hissed, half-whispered, putting his wand away from where he'd drawn it.

"Nice to see you too." She said, slightly indignant, before adding in a softer tone. "Good reflexes," commenting on his quick draw. "And I believe that's my line, what are you doing here?"

She pulled them all over to an empty storefront between the bank and Madam Malkins.

Hermione spoke up. "Harry had a letter from Gringotts about his accounts, I came for some extra summer reading and Luna was on her way to the Quibbler office. We all just bumped into each other."

Tonks looked at them appraisingly, her eyes darting to the bank doors every so often. "That's a load of dragon dung, but I'll buy it." She sighed. "Look, can I trust you to stay safe? I've been tracking the Lestrange brothers and they're in the bank."

"We know, they passed us on their way to the vaults. They didn't see us if that's what you're thinking." Harry said, with a head nod towards the bank.

Tonks relaxed slightly, "If they've gone down to the vault, they'll be a bit. Sirius mentioned that when they were younger, Bella was bragging that their vault had a lot of nasty curses that need to be deactivated."

She shifted back to herself, and her eyes grew sad as she looked down, no doubt thinking of Sirius. "Sorry. Just that, I still expect to see him y'know? Like he's just around the corner, pretty silly I guess."

Harry put his hand on her shoulder in understanding, "Not silly, I feel the same. Like I just need to open the door, and he's there, right?"

Since he knew where the veil went, his statement was more literal than metaphorical, but Tonks didn't need to know that.

"Right." She smiled at Harry, drawing comfort from him. "I don't know what you guys are up to, but please don't get caught. Just because the Order isn't watching the house is no reason to be careless."

"We'll be careful," Hermione reassured her.

Tonks morphed back into the old woman and started back to the bank. "Good to hear, just lost Emmeline and Amelia this week, I don't want to lose you guys too."

"I heard on the muggle news about it. Poor Susan!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, losing them, especially Amelia is a hard blow for us. Wish they hadn't died."

Hermione gripped Harry's hand, feeling him tense up. "Stay safe, Tonks. We'll see you later." They turned and darted into Madam Malkins next door, the sound of a collision making them look back at Tonks who had fallen to the floor with a wizard.

Hermione grabbed a robe from a rack and pulled both Harry and Luna into a free changing room.

"Okay, Harry, you can let loose."

Harry hadn't been paying attention to anything after Tonks' 'I wish'.

He'd had the presence of mind to get a soul-spark from Tonks, and he was focusing on keeping his Djinn magic steady, so he didn't grant it in broad daylight, trusting the girls to lead him somewhere out of the way.

At Hermione's permission, Harry wove the magic back in time to the point of the two witches' deaths, thankful that any malicious intent was kept at bay by Luna's presence…

Vance was fighting a pair of Death Eaters in the street; spells being traded fast. Harry twisted his magic around both her and the Death Eaters, making her duck and roll to avoid the blasting curse that would have killed her. Minutes passed as he manipulated the scene, handicapping the pair while boosting the reflexes of Emmeline. She eventually blew a hole in one's chest and stunned the other.

Madam Bones was losing ground to Voldemort, even in his weakened state he was still a formidable opponent.

Disturbingly, Harry found that his magic did not affect the Dark Lord, so he concentrated on giving every advantage to Madam Bones he could.

Soon enough, Harry was running out of options so switched to plan B, turning a nearby figurine into a portkey and had her dive onto it, whisking her away to safety.

… "What just happened?" Hermione asked, "we were just in the street with Tonks and for some reason, we came in here." She furrowed her brow. "She made a wish?"

"She did, you both don't remember?" At the shake of their heads, Harry explained. "Well, Tonks was saying how sad it was the Emmeline and Amelia had died; you exclaimed you were too. Well, she replied that she wished they hadn't died. You brought me in here, assumingly so I didn't do anything too…showy," he emphasised the word with a flare of his hand.

Hermione shook her head, "I don't remember the wish, but I remember everything up to that point, then we excused ourselves and came in here. This must be a similar effect to the muggle repelling charm or a memory charm. That's so strange…." She looked a little

bothered at the fact her memory could be altered so easily, the only discrepancy being the choice of the store they'd gone into.

Hermione was about to say something else but was cut off by someone clearing their throat behind them.

"Ahem."

They froze, Hermione slowly drew the curtain back to reveal the frowning face of the proprietor, Madam Malkin.

"While I understand that teenage hormones can get the better of you, there is a time and place for these sorts of things. And that is not here."

Luna smiled up at the woman and replied innocently, "Harry has a date later. We were just helping him pick out a new robe."

"That's right," Hermione agreed, latching onto Lunas's cover story.

At the same time, Harry blurted "It's not a date!"

They stood in silence for a moment, with Harry, avoiding eye contact and blushing like a tomato.

"I'll just try this on, then shall I?" he piped up.

Madam Makin tutted and took it off him, "Over my dead body will your wear burgundy, how about forest green like your dress robes from a few years back?"

Avoiding eye contact still, Harry looked around the clothes in the store and his eyes landed on something different. "Madam Malkin, I was thinking maybe a deep purple."

Looking at what he was gazing at, the woman's eyes widened. "Ohh, that would contrast lovely with your eyes. Good choice." She flicked her wand and a bundle of deep purple leather shot into Harry's arms. "And it's Madeline, dear. you can call me Maddie."

Satisfied, Harry closed the curtains and changed.

"Soo, a date huh?" Hemione asked. "You didn't mention that earlier. What will you be doing?"

"Not a date, Hermione, and we're just meeting for lunch and some shopping."

The bell above the door tinkled and a new customer walked in; it was the wizard that had bumped into Tonks earlier, and he looked out of breath.

"Phew. Sorry to barge in, err, I'm meeting someone and am trying to find them?"

The girls and Maddie looked at the wizard and then to the curtain slowly.

Hermione called out, "Harry? Is your date meeting you in the Alley?"

Sighing, he opened the curtains a bit, "For the last time, it's. Not. A. Da-oh."

He took in the newcomer; tanned skin sporting a light covering of stubble. Dark brown hair and soft brown eyes, their deep pools regarding him with slight shock and embarrassment.

Blushing again, Harry was saved from answering when the wizard spoke.

"They must be further up the alley, sorry to have disturbed you." He turned and opened the door, looking back at Harry before he left. "Nice robes by the way. They go with your eye colour."

Harry closed the curtains again and reappeared a few minutes later to stand in front of the mirrors, the blush starting to disappear.

"Now then, since your still growing would you like to include automatic resizing charms?"

"Yes please, Maddie," Harry said as she fussed with the waistline and sleeve hem, adjusting the cut to allow better leg movement while keeping the top half form-fitting.

"You cut a striking figure in this, Mr. Potter, you'll be fighting them off in this to be sure."

He had to agree.

The trousers were a heavy fabric of a deep black, tucked into boots of the same colour. The robe itself was a deep purple leather beast, done in a military-style with gold buttons along both sides of the breast. The robe flared out from the waist down to finish at his mid-calf, and delicate gold pipping finished off the collar and sleeves.

"Now, if you turn the top right button, you can shorten the length, making it easier the wear in the muggle world."

Harry did as instructed and with each turn, the robe receded till it stopped at his waist, resembling a biker jacket.

"Wonderful, Mr. Potter. Now, see your sleeves here? I've made them a bit looser to accommodate for two wand holsters."

Puzzled and the notion, Harry queried the woman, "Why would I need two?" He had considered getting one for more convenience, but two?

Tutting at him while she adjusted the collar she told him, "While it's mainly Aurors and hit wizards that carry two wands, I should think someone in your position would carry a spare?"

Harry shook his head no and Maddie directed her gaze at the girls. "How do you cope with him?"

The girls looked at each other and Luna answered, "It's taking two of us to manage him."

Maddie nodded sagely, "Behind every great wizard is a witch or two keeping him out of trouble."

He sighed. "Okay then, I'll go to Ollivanders at some point and get a second wand."

"No you won't," Maddie said, "Old Ollivander won't sell you a spare without a ministry permit, and even then, he'll resist." She shook her head in disappointment. "He's got these crackpot theories on how wands are alive and such rot, 'the wand chooses the wizard' as he says."

"Where do I go then, Maddie?"

She looked around as if checking the coast was clear, "You'll need a disguise of some sort but, go to the end of Knockturn Alley, turn left down Crooked Alley, and at the end is a wand shop called Elderwood. Elvira, who owns it, uses more esoteric materials than the standard that Ollivander uses. She's…a little out there but she's good at what she does."

She displayed her wand for them all to see, "This is rosewood, with a core of dragon blood infused Acromantula silk. Highly effective for textile work. For the right price, she'll do you a custom order."

Maddie made one more adjustment to the robe and stood back. "Well, I think your all set. Do you want to wear it out?"

He smiled as he adjusted it back into a robe. "Yes, please. Thank you for the advice. I think I would be lost without smart witches backing me up."

Maddie chuckled at that, "All wizards are lost, dear. I'll go bag up the stuff you came in and see you at the counter."

Harry accepted the bag, counted out the needed fifty galleons from his pouch, and the trio bid Maddie adieu.

"So, what's next Harry? Or do you need to get off soon for your not-date?" Hermione teased.

"It's not-oh, I give up," Harry said, exasperated.

"Okay, okay, I'll stop now. But seriously, do you need to go?" She queried.

Harry glanced at his watch, "It's about 12.20 am now, so I've got about an hour and a half left."

"Okay then," Hermione said. "Luna and I will go to Flourish and Blotts, grab a few books on alchemy. You go down that side alley next to Madam Malkins' and change into one of your altered forms to go get that second wand. Now you're past your Maturity, you can do magic out of school so it should be fine. We'll meet up at the entrance to the Alley, okay?"

"I can do that. I'll see you guys soon."

The girls headed off to the bookstore and Harry ducked down the alley to change into one of his other forms.

'Hmm, I'll change into Justin rather than Brian,' Harry felt that Justin had a bad boy personality that would work better down the darker alley.

His hair lightened to a mop on dirty blonde hair and his feature morphed to a softer but dangerous look. His body grew taller and the robe's alteration magic resized it to the new fit, with a final thought he shifted the robe's colour to a deep black and altered it to look like dragonhide.

Satisfied he turned down the side alley and walked with purpose down Knockturn Alley. His aura gave off a sharp edge making those that stood in his way back up.

'Hehe, it kinda feels good to be a bit bad,' he thought flexing the aura a little, causing a wizard in front of him to scramble out of the way.

Chuckling again, Harry rounded the corner down Crooked Alley and followed it to the end where the dusty storefront of Elderwoods sat.

*Ding*

The door rang as he opened it, no doubt alerting the proprietor Elvira.

The shop had the usual floor-to-ceiling shelves Harry remembered from buying his holly wand, which he knew were full of the long rectangular boxes used to store wands.

While similar to Ollivander's in that regard, there was a large circular recess in the main floor full of runes that Harry knew the older wizard didn't have. The recess was surrounded on most sides by more shelves holding hundreds of small square boxes.

Harry studied it intently and jumped slightly when he felt something tap on his back, he turned around to find the point of a blade in his face attached to the arm of a short witch with dark hair, amber eyes, and a slightly crazed look in her eyes.

'What is it with wand makers sneaking up on people' he thought as the witch addressed him in a hurried voice.

"Who-are-you-what-are-you doing-here?"

Harry was going a little cross-eyed looking at the blade but answered in a steadily, questioning tone, "I'm after another wand? Maddie said you do custom orders."

This was obviously the right answer, as she visibly relaxed, throwing the knife behind her into the large spider that was crawling up her wall.

"Damn things keep creeping into here from that maniac down the road. I'm Elvira. So, you're after a custom job eh? You got the gold?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, "You got the goods?"

They both stared at each other before Elvira nodded slowly, "I like you," this was punctuated by a slap of her hand on the counter beside her.

A low, churning sound emitted from the recess as it filled a few centimetres with a thin- looking pink liquid.

"Take off your boots and socks, go stand in the centre."

Harry gave a dubious look at the liquid. "Er…what is that stuff?"

She had grabbed a book and quill from behind the counter, "Do you want a custom wand, or do you want to ask stupid questions? In the centre."

Not wanting to argue the eccentricities of the woman he did as he was asked.

The liquid felt… strange to say the least, and he was standing on top of it, rather than sinking into it. He looked back at Elvira who nodded in satisfaction.

"Now breath normally, and for Morgana's sake don't move."

The liquid started spinning clockwise after she had slapped the counter again, then, when it had reached a speed that made Harry feel nauseous, the runes started to flash at random intervals, occasionally sending an arc of energy that would hit then ricochet off to one of the boxes around the recess.

Ten minutes passed before the liquid started to slow, Elvira slapped the counter once more and the liquid fell…up?... to the ceiling and drained through a hole in the roof.

"Stay there 'til I'm done consulting Great-gran-gran's notes."

'This has to be one of the most bizarre things I've encountered so far, and that's saying something.' He thought as he stood barefoot on the cold stone floor.

Just when he was contemplating making a run for it, Elvira returned.

"You're into some freaky shit aren't ya? And you're after a custom job? Someone like you who's got his finger on the pulse of reality? Surprised you even need a wand."

If Harry was shocked by this, he didn't let anything slip into his voice as he said, "In my position, it pays to have one for appearances. You know how it is."

She nodded at that, "You said you're after another wand, what's your current wand made of?"

"Holly, phoenix feather core." He informed her.

"Make sense, phoenixes also feel the pulse of reality in a way most other creatures can't."

She walked over to a cupboard in the corner on the other side of the store, from this she removed goggles, a metal rod, and a flat gold disc, placing them on a table next to the recess.

Next, she flicked her wand at the small boxes that had glowed, and several different powders flew out, landing within several circles amongst the runes.

"Unlike most wandmakers, I choose to use alchemical circles to transmute custom wands,"

Elvira said, affixing the goggles to her head. "Now, stay perfectly still in the circle, this may hurt a bit." She flicked her wand at the door, which turned into a brick wall.

"Actually, this will hurt a bit." She tapped a few points on the disc and it started to hum.

"Actually…actually, this will hurt a lot."

Elvira dropped her goggles over her eyes and moved the metal rod in a continuous clockwise motion on the surface of the disc.

Harry gulped and steeled himself. He could feel a steady vibration building-up in his bones, the powders on the floor shifting, as if kicked up by the wind.

Then they were spinning, also clockwise around Harry, he clenched his jaw feeling the vibration intensifying. It was painful as she had said it would be, but nothing he hadn't experience before with his scar. Still, it was physically nothing pleasant, but his magic seemed the hum in sync with the energy being generated by Elvira's circle.

Harry looked down as his arms began to burn and watched with shock as a red and white mist drifted from his flesh to join the small maelstrom of powder and magic surrounding him.

'Good thing I heal fast,' Harry thought as the swirling collection of powders started to condense, smaller and smaller until a small red cloud hovered a foot in from of him, seconds later, that too condensed, into a wand of deep cherrywood with a white handle.

"My-my-my, that was certainly interesting." Elvira removed the goggles to come to stand in front of Harry to inspect her work.

"Ten inches, bone-infused cherrywood with a bone handle and a very unique core."

She waved her wand over the creation and a series of runes and numbers appeared in glowing yellow letters.

"Hmm, this won't do. Grab the wand."

Harry did as she asked with only slight hesitation.

The runes shifted to a light green colour.

"Ohh, that's better, the core's stable. Now, what we have here is a core of crystalised phoenix fire."

"Crystalised phoenix fire?" Harry asked, shocked that such a thing was possible.

She nodded eagerly. "Powdered diamond and phoenix feather fused with your blood. Extremely hard to stabilise."

"I assume it was my bone used for the handle? Was that necessary?" he suddenly felt a little queasy at the thought that he was holding a wand made from parts of his body.

She closed her eyes and whipped one more knife into the back of another large spider climbing the wall, before giving Harry a hard look. "Do I tell you how to slap a dragon's arse? No? Good. Don't tell me how to shovel dung in my garden." She crossed her arms in a huff. "You've got a unique skill set, that requires a unique wand." She moved out of the recess and waved dismissively toward his feet. "Put your boots on, you'll catch a chill."

Harry had to admit, the wand did feel more connected to him than his holly wand did. Like an extension of himself, which, he supposed, was quite literal since his blood and bone had been used to make it.

She wandered over to the main counter while Harry booted up again then joined her.

"Now, I trust you'll need wand holsters? Of course you do. Standard or quick-draw? Don't answer, you'll have quick-draw."

'She gonna give my whiplash with her mood swings at this rate,' Harry thought, shaking his eyes as she disappeared under the counter and brought out another box.

Placing the box on the counter, she pulled the lid off and pushed it closer to Harry. "Put your hands in for two of them to claim you."

"Claim me? What…." Harry had looked in the box expecting to see standard holsters, instead, he saw…he wasn't sure what he was looking at.

They looked like palm-sized scarab beetles, black shells with a red iridescent shimmer, but instead of six legs, they had six straps, each sporting several small, spikey hooks.

Another staring match between Harry and Elvira followed, with Harry, as he was sure was normal for the wandmaker, finally sighing and reaching both arms into the box.

A scuffle took place amongst the…things before two of the sturdier specimens crawled up his sleeves, moving about then settling against his wrists, the straps/legs hugged his arm where the small hooks clung to his skin.

"Now, put the handle to your wrist and the holster pulls it in, flex your wrist and it'll spit the wand out."

Harry looked at his new wand and moved it to his left wrist, spinning it in his hand so the handle was pointing as directed.

A thin, black tongue darted out to wrap around the handle of the wand, pulling it into itself.

Harry flexed his wrist and the wand shot out again still attached to the tongue, Harry closed his hand around the handle and the tongue disappeared back into the holster.

"That's…actually kinda cool. Is this an object though, or a creature?" Harry asked as he put his holly wand to his right wrist, watching as the thing drew it in.

The witch nodded absently. "Yes, yes it is." She said, confusing Harry with the non-answer.

"Now, it'll draw a small amount of your magic for sustenance and will conceal itself to remain unnoticed. If you need to remove them, keep them in this box."

She'd gotten a smaller black box from somewhere, which she shrank for him.

"I've delivered on the goods, now cough up the gold. Sixty galleons for the lot."

Shrugging, Harry pulled all the galleons out of his pouch for Elvira, who swept them off the counter into a drawer.

"Keep it buttoned on where you got that wand," Elvira told him. "I don't need that kind of heat. Urgh." She spun around, flinging two more knives into more spiders before screaming,

"I wish these cursed little fuckers would stop invading my shop and that bitch meets a sticky end!"

'This won't end well at all,' Harry grimaced, already feeling his Djinn magic swell up.

While she was distracted by yet another spider, Harry's Djinn powers felt out the wards of the shop, shifting them to block all pests from entering. Then, his senses shifted to view the shop down the road that was crawling with spiders…

The shop was dark and dank, not much light penetrated the web-covered window, and the sparse candles offered little compensation.

It was larger on the inside than the outside, as spiders, ranging from the size of a common house spider to the size of a cat, roamed freely around the open cages and shelves.

A woman stood behind the counter scratching away on parchment with her ear close to a spider. She looked, for all intents and purposes, like she was writing whatever the thing was saying, clicking away as it was.

'Is she using the spiders to spy on people?' the thought creeped Harry out, but he had to admit it was clever.

Moving on to his grisly task, Harry cast his mind about, away from the more horrific ideas the Djinn's malice was feeding him and settled on the least objectional method and pushed his will into the arachnids.

The spiders all stop moving for a moment electing a puzzled expression from the witch, her puzzlement turned to dread as the spiders all started crawling to her.

"Stop it this instant! I command you to stop!"

Whatever influence she used to control them did not take effect as she began firing off spells at them all, but there were too many.

"Arania Exumai, Arania Exumai! Stop! No!"

This was the most humane way Harry could work with, several spiders biting her in unison, killing her instantly.

Harry left her like that, not wanting or needing to see any more as the spiders started webbing her up.

"What are you still standing around for? Get out my shop." Elvira had an annoyed look on her face as she pointed to the exit.

Mimicking her pointing, Harry said, "You want me to walk through a brick wall?"

She looked to where she was pointing and realised the door was still blocked by her brick spell from earlier.

With a wave of her wand, the wall reverted to a door and she turned in a huff to head to some back room.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," she called over her shoulder.

Harry shook his head and pulled a soul-spark from her retreating form, before hastily madding his exit out to the stale air of the alley.

His senses immediately warned him of something not quite right. He moved swiftly in the low light of the alley, darting around the corner into Knockturn.

Then he felt it.

The hair on the back of his neck stood as the door to Borgin Burkes opened behind him, and a voice spoke.

"Found you, Djinn."

Everything happened in slow motion.

He flexed both wrists and turned sharply, grasping both wands in his hands.

"Nebulus!" Fog blanketed the area in dense fog from the wand in his left hand, his new wand.

"Depulso!" Completing his turn, Harry levelled his holly wand and fired off a banishment charm and was rewarded with the sound of someone falling.

Quickly, he felt for the link he had with Fawkes and mentally called for him.

'FAWKES!'

The phoenix flashed in almost instantly and landed on Harry's shoulder, flashing out again just as quickly as he'd appeared.

He reappeared in the courtyard next to the Diagon Alley entrance, Fawkes leaving his shoulder to perch on a crate against the wall.

"Fawkes you are a lifesaver, thanks."

Feelings of concern came through the link as the phoenix regarded Harry.

"We were wondering if a Grigori was hunting me earlier, guess this answers that question."

Harry stroked the firebird's feathers as he shifted his appearance back to what it was before, the adrenalin had worn off leaving him a little drained.

"You'd better skedaddle. That guy might be on his way back this way."

Fawkes nuzzled Harry a final time before bowing and flashing out.

Harry let out a slow breath and felt around with his senses. He didn't feel anyone around the area he'd just left, but sensed Hermione and Luna on the other side of the wall.

Tapping the bricks to open the Alley, Harry walked through and spotted them just off to the left side, near the cauldron shop.

"Hey guys," he called, giving them a strained smile.

"Harry? Did something happen? Luna said she felt a wish earlier." Hermione said in a low, worried tone.

"Couldn't be helped. The witch at the wand shop just blurted it out." He proceeded the tell them about the wish, the subsequent encounter with who he thought was the Grigori, and Fawkes' quick rescue.

Thoughts about his new wand were the last thing on any of their minds.

A small amount of fog had leaked into Diagon from Knockturn, covering the area in a light haze.

"This is bad. I know we've said it before, but we need to be careful. You might not be able to use surprise to your advantage next time. It's good that Fawkes was quick in getting you out."

Hermione looked around at the fog, "You cast this fog with your new wand? What spell was it?"

"There was an interesting book on weather magic in the Black Library, seemed like a good idea at the time," Harry said, shrugging. "We should probably go, this may attract Aurors."

The fog was getting a little thicker, so they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Harry winced. He'd overpowered the spell out of panic, though the new wand had probably contributed to it as well.

"I stopped at the music shop a few doors down and had this charmed for you," Luna spoke, holding out Harry's Discman, along with a small scrap of parchment. "The lady that works there owes Daddy a favour, I got her to charm this to work around magic. It's temporary, so you'll need to use the spell to recast it."

"Thanks, Luna. To be fair, it slipped my mind. How did you know?" he said, accepting the device and parchment.

She shrugged and replied, "I just that you might need it."

Harry hugged both Hermione and Luna before they left, promising to contact them with anything urgent.

He wandered into the Leaky Cauldron, sitting at the bar so he could steady his nerves before meeting Lance.

He'd had his senses on about six hours now, and granted six wishes ranging from simple manifestations, mental manipulations, to outright time manipulation.

"Mr. Potter? Didn't expect to see you this early in the summer, what can I get you? Butterbeer?"

Harry smiled at Tom and greeted the bartender, "Afternoon Tom, I'd love a Butterbeer, please."

"Coming right up" Tom replied, as Harry rested his head on his forearms and took a few more calming breaths.

"Thanks, Tom," Harry said, hearing Tom put his drink in front of him.

"No problem Mr. Potter. And what can get you, sir?"

"A double shot of Blishen's Fire Whisky, please."

Harry lifted his head to see who had spoken and saw the wizard from earlier emulating his prone position at the bar.

Fighting a small amount of blush, Harry spoke up, "I take it you didn't catch up to your friend?"

The wizard looked up at him with those deep pools of brown and smiled, "Oh I caught up to him alright, but we had a bit of a falling out, not sure if we can patch up." He shrugged and downed his drink before gesturing to Tom for another. "What about you? Nervous about your not-date Mr. Potter? I'm Greg, by the way, Greg Hunter."

"It really isn't a date, Mr. Hunter, I've just had a busy morning already and needed a moment," Harry flattened the hair over his scar a bit more, almost as an unconscious gesture before taking a long gulp from the Butterbeer.

"Well, in any case, I think you need this a bit more than me right now, you look as stressed as I feel. And call me Greg."

Harry looked down at the refilled glass Greg slid over to him with suspicion. "Thanks, Greg, but with my life so far, I can't trust that you've not subtly cursed the glass somehow or left some type of poison on the rim with your lips, sorry." He smiled apologetically at Greg and took another sip of his drink.

"That's fair, and smart, for all you know I could be a Death Eater. Tom, one more double for Harry here." Greg said ask he pulled his glass back.

Tom approached and looked at the pair. "Generally, I wouldn't dare serve alcohol to a minor, but you do a lot for this community, Mr. Potter, even if the community doesn't always see that. So, I'll make an exception. Just this once." He got a fresh glass and poured Harry a double.

Greg picked up his glass and Harry did the same. "Well, Mr. Potter, may we live in these interesting times," he tilted his head, smirking, "and survive to enjoy it."

Harry clinked his glass with Greg's and downed the whisky as the other man had done, it burned on the way down with a pleasant aftertaste of cinnamon.

Fortunately, he'd gotten used to the sensation from sharing Ogden's Firewhiskey with the twins last year while at Grimmauld.

"Interesting is certainly what I'd use to describe my life," Harry chuckled, setting the glass down.

"I can imagine. Dumbledore's told me a few stories. Is it true you can cast a fully corporeal Patronus?" Greg asked.

"You know Headmaster Dumbledore?" Harry asked, surprised by the revelation.

"I've done work for him on occasion." Greg shrugged. "I'm what you'd call a 'freelance investigator'."

Nodding, Harry returned Greg's previous question. "Yeah, the dementors took an unhealthy interest in me in my third year, so I had to learn it out of necessity." Harry shrugged at it as if it weren't a big deal and added as an afterthought, "Taught it to several of my classmates last year. It's really not that hard once you learn the trick to it."

"Oh? Do tell" Greg asked, looking surprised.

"While the first step is finding a strong happy memory, you need to dig past that to the underlying feeling it creates and bring it out, bare your soul, so to speak."

Harry had enjoyed running the DA last year and had been considering a different career in the future, well, before all this had happened at least.

"I actually can cast one. I simply wanted your opinion on the matter. It is a very insightful approach." Looking at his watch, Greg put a few galleons on the bar for Tom and stood up from the stool, sticking his hand out. "I'd better take my leave now, Mr. Potter, but it was a pleasure to speak with you. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone you were here today."

Harry heaved a mental sigh of relief. He knew Tonks would keep quiet and wanted to keep this trip a secret for as long as possible.

He stood also and shook the man's hand, fighting the urge to blush. "Thanks, and call me Harry."

Greg smiled at him a final time, blushing slightly himself, sending butterflies flapping in

Harry's stomach as the man left.

Harry sat back down and finished his Butterbeer, hiding his reaction to the man. 'A few days of personal growth and now my hormones wake up.'

Paying for his Butterbeer, Harry left to go meet Lance.

Concealing himself with his power, he ducked down a side alley to shift into his true self minus the Djinn extras, adjusted the robe back into a jacket, and walked the short distance to Combs.

He didn't see Lance's bike anywhere but finding a parking spot at this time would be almost impossible for the man, even with a bike, so Harry walked into the former church and went down to the café.

Bearing in mind that it was lunchtime, Harry had left the concealment active around the alcove he'd shared with the girls earlier, so when he was approached by a waiter, he used his influence to make the waiter think the table had just been vacated.

After being seated, Harry ordered two chocolate milkshakes and used Lance's soul-spark to locate him, finding the man just getting off his bike.

'Hmm, he's a few blocks up from the café,' Harry thought, accepting the drinks and menus from the waiter with a smile.

A few minutes later, Lance walked in and Harry waved him over. He approached Harry with a soft smile and greeted him, dropping down opposite him.

"Hey Harry, you got me a chocolate milkshake already? Thanks."

"Well, you did drink three of them last time," Harry said with a smile, "One would think you're a chocoholic."

Lance chuckled. "Guilty as charged." He grew serious suddenly and leaned in closer to Harry.

"Listen, I'm probably overthinking things a bit but my manager, Roy, rang me the other day.

Someone came by the garage after we'd left. Roy didn't think anything about it at the time, he assumed it had something to do with the crook who'd bought the bike. But, he realised yesterday that this guy was asking some strange questions. Questions about who had been in and if anything had happened out of the ordinary. Seemed interested in me, you, and the bike. Though Roy couldn't remember much about it."

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, "Yeah, I may have used my powers to alter his memory. I figured since you realised my secret so easily, I'd cover my bases."

Lance shrugged. "Probably giving Roy too much credit there, or not giving me enough credit. Either way, this guy's gonna return on Monday to ask about a custom bike so, he'll more than likely ask me questions."

Harry frowned. "Yeah, turns out, there's a type of Angel called a Grigori actively hunting me. Had a quick run-in with him earlier today. I got lucky but I doubt the same trick will work twice."

Lance let out a breath. "Shit. Should I call in sick?"

Harry shook his head. "That would just be suspicious. Just act confused about it and try not to give much away."

"Got it," he replied. "So, besides the Angel dodging, how was your morning?" Lance's demeanour shifted back to his usual chilled-out self.

Their conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. They both ordered burgers with chips and more milkshakes, then Harry recounted his conversation with the girls and his trip to Gringotts with Lance only asking for clarification on a few points before Harry got to the robe shop.

"Wait-wait," Lance said, leaning forward on the table. "I pop your cherry and you start looking at other guys?" He laughed good-naturedly. "Was he good-looking?"

"In a certain scruffy boyband sort of way. But I think he was a bit older than me," Harry answered, blushing a bit.

"Says the fifteen-year-old with the body and mentality of a twenty-five-year-old. Age didn't stop us going at it," Lance teased. "From what you've said, witches and wizards don't quibble over age too much so you could be in with a chance if he's as young-looking as you describe."

"I bumped into him once more but that was before I left to meet you." Harry continued until he got to the part with the scarab holsters.

"No way! You've got to show me!" Lance blurted, interrupting him midstory.

Harry pulled up his left sleeve. The holster was a bit out of focus, no doubt hiding its presence, but Harry tapped the shell a few times, causing the thing to tighten in agitation, but it did the trick as its' iridescent shell came into full focus.

"That is the coolest thing I've seen!" Lance gushed, holding Harry's forearm still as he examined it.

"Hey! Cooler than the wish-granting being sitting in front of you?" Harry asked, jokingly offended.

"I stand by my statement. Been there, literally done that on a bike. This is cooler." Lance smirked at him as Harry withdrew his arm, looking at an approaching waiter.

The food had arrived.

The two spent a few minutes enjoying their food before Harry finished off his tale, ending in meeting Greg in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Urgh," Lance grimaced. "That spider lady sounded creepy, not that I have anything against spiders, Spiderman is my favourite hero after all, but using them to spy on people…." He shuddered at the thought.

"Do you think it's bad that I don't feel guilty over her death?" Harry asked.

A dangerous glint appeared in Lance's eyes. "Do you think I feel guilty over causing the death of a gang of dangerous criminals? No, I don't. They were bad people and I'm sure as shit that woman wasn't a saint." He let out a shaky breath. "Sorry, flashbacked to a bad place. I didn't share much last time, we focused more on your life than mine last time, huh?"

"Just a little bit, but, if you're uncomfortable about it. We can let it rest," Harry replied. He knew all too well how hard it was talking about the past.

"Hell, you opened up about how much your relatives were bastards, least I could do is reciprocate." Lance took a long drink of his milkshake and looked Harry dead in the eyes.

"I told you about my great-aunt Francesca, who you believe is a witch, makes sense considering. Well, she was the only one that cared much about me and my younger brother, Dominic.

Our parents sure didn't give a damn," he shook his head. "Anyway, she'd visit us every so often, to my parent's displeasure.

"When I was fourteen, she took Dominic away for a weekend and when he came back, they treated him like he was diseased." He looked haunted, staring at the table, "They took him shopping the next day and when they came back, he wasn't with them. Said he'd been hit by a car." Lance clenched a fist. "I'll never forget that look in their eyes. They did something to him I know it. I ran away after that. Hit the streets for about a week. Aunt Francesca found me. Said she'd taken care of my parents and she would set me up with somewhere to live. She even got me emancipated."

Harry placed his hand on Lance's, understanding in his eyes. "Our situations are a bit different, but I understand."

"I know you do," Lance said with a weak smile. "And thanks. Never really…told this to anyone before." He cleared his throat, switching back to teasing Harry. "So, this guy, you know his name is Greg, and you even know he works with your headmaster. He was practically giving you all the right signals."

Making a mental note to look further into this Francesca, Harry let the matter drop. "How'd you jump to that conclusion?" he asked.

"Ah, Harry," Lance smirked, shaking his head in mock-disappointment. "The compliments, the blushing, heck he bought you a drink and was almost kissing you with his used glass until you went Batman and Poison Ivy on him about his lips."

Harry blushed furiously. "While I don't fully understand the character reference, I assure you, if you had people trying to kill you every year, you'd be a bit paranoid too."

"Ohh, someone's being pessimistic. I take it your more Marvel than DC?"

"I like to think I'm a realist, with the option for both pessimism and optimism. As for my comic preference? I could only sneak a few from my cousin every so often so, I don't have a broad understanding of them."

Lance looked shocked for a moment, then shook his head. "Well, we'll have to include a stop at a comic shop during our London shopping safari. So, are you going to contact Greg?" Lance asked, grinning.

'Boy, he's not letting this go,' Harry thought.

"If he checks out as not someone out to kill me? Maybe," he shrugged.

"Yes," Lance hissed, pumping a fist in the air.

Harry smiled at his antics and noticed he was wearing the green polo that he'd gotten off Harry.

"You're wearing my shirt," Harry stated, tilting his head.

"And you still have my grey t-shirt, no swapsies" Lance quipped back. He glanced at his watch.

"Speaking of clothes, shall we go? You're in great need of a new wardrobe and I know the best place to go."

"And you're the authority on style?" Harry fired back with a smile.

"I'm awesome like that."

Lance paid for their lunch with a promise from Harry to pay for dessert later, which he happily accepted.

The pair took an easy walk up to Oxford street, where Lance said Harry could get everything, including the kitchen sink, there.

Harry's first stop though, was a specific place for workwear, so he led the way.

"So, Harry said, "we talked about my day, what about yours?"

Lance chuckled. "Nothing as exciting as secret magical meetings and Angel attacks."

"Last time we met, you said you'd like to find the time to go motocross racing this weekend?"

Lances' eyes lit up. "Yeah, actually I did. Thanks to you helping me finish that bike early, I got to spend most of yesterday racing. Think it's something you'd enjoy. As for today, I had a lazy lay in and read."

"Apart from the racing, something tells me you'd get on well with my friend Hermione," Harry said, amused.

"From what you've told me, I think you'd be right. Anyway, I've been looking at building my own computer, so that's what I'm working on."

Harry stopped them in front of a store displaying several mannequins with various forms of workwear. The sign said Scrubs and Sods.

"I know this place! We get our coveralls from here." Lance said, surprised.

"Mr. Jacobs gave me a temporary ID to buy the needed protective items on the company account and I can get monogrammed workwear here," Harry said as the pair entered.

The shop was busier than Harry expected but being the start of summer, it wasn't too surprising.

Harry approached one of the assistants with Lance in tow and addressed the guy. "Hi, I'm after some protective wear and monogrammed clothing for Jacob Taylor Construction. Can you help?"

"Sure thing, pally. follow me over to the computer and I'll pull up the company details. Can I have–"

"Right here," Harry interrupted, giving over his company ID. He'd felt the stirrings of a wish so thought it best to stop the guy from saying more.

"Right, under the selling guidelines for this account, you can get all the basic gear and PPE for landscaping and building and a twenty-five percent discount on the clothing. If you want some higher-end gear, you'd have to pay the price difference."

Harry looked at Lance for input, not knowing the difference in quality.

"I buy the higher quality stuff myself; it lasts longer. I know your uncle's a dick but Grunnings does sell some good quality toolsets," Lance supplied.

"Your friend is right, plus Grunnings do have a lot of business with Jacobs and Taylor," chimed in the sales guy.

Harry nodded. "I'll be mostly working on the landscaping, so I won't need any tools straight away. I just need the clothing and PPE to start."

"Most people in the business like their own tools, so when you change your mind, I can hook you up. Just ask for Dan when you're next in."

'Is this guy on commission?' Harry wondered. "Will do. And the monogrammed clothing?"

"It's a little short notice but I can make sure they're ready to collect tomorrow. Let's go get you sized up them we can sort out the rest of the gear."

Harry spent the next half hour getting fitted for steel-toed boots, short-sleeved coveralls at Lance's recommendation, and various other items a landscaper would need to work comfortably and safely. He took the smaller items with him and agreed to come back the next day for the rest.

"Take it from a mechanic," Lance said as they left. "After a few days you're gonna want your own tools, plus you'll need them for your bike if any problems come up."

"Oh? Did you sell me a lemon?" Harry teased.

"Hey! I stand by my work, besides any failure would be on your shoddy wish-granting,"

Lance quipped back smiling.

Holding up his hands in defeat, Harry grinned. "It was your wish, but okay, I'll look at sorting some tools out, duck down here a sec." Harry pulled them both down a side alley and revealed his gemstone. "Check this out," he extended a small field of concealment around them before making the bags disappear into the stone.

Lance raised his eyebrows. "Sure, you can make them disappear, but can you pull a rabbit out of it?"

"Tough crowd," Harry said, laughing. He dropped the field and followed Lance out of the alley.

"Come on, you were wanting to play dress-up, Mr. Awesome Stylist."

"I said I was awesome, you said I was a stylist." Lance let them through the doors on a shop call Selfridges. "You see, Harry, sometimes it's about who you know. Now, Sasha is a friend of mine and is a massive flirt so, keep on your toes.

Sasha, as it turned out was a six-foot-three blonde Russian guy with piercing blue eyes and a knack for innuendo.

So, Harry spent two hours being dressed up by the man with Lance silently laughing in the background.

The flirting and teasing was especially brutal when it came to the underwear selection. He knew what Lance was doing, he was helping Harry loosen up; get used to flirting with guys.

And boy, did Harry get thrown in the deep end.

But the transformation into a Djinn was slowly altering his mind and personality, helping his confidence, thinking speed, and intelligence.

Was he worried?

Not really, there wasn't anything he could do about it, and he had kept a good hold of the malicious intent even without Luna's influence, so why not enjoy himself.

"Hey, Harry," He looked over at Lance, who was holding a pair of tan snakeskin trousers with a cheeky smile on his face.

He pulled a face. "Nuh-uh mate, not gonna happen."

"Maybe you try on for Sasha?" the thick-accented Russian took the trousers from Lance.

"Maybe you buy them, and Sasha takes them off you at home? Sasha very good at playing snake."

Harry had gotten used to the guy's flirting and gave back as good as he got.

"Maybe I don't buy them and show you how I play snake?" he said cheekily. "You'll be surprised at what I can do with my tongue, just ask Lance."

To emphasise his point, he pushed a bit of magic into his tongue and used the same Parsel magic he'd used on Lance, and rapidly flicked his tongue. He mentally pat himself on the back as he made the Russian blush for the first time, making Lance blush was a happy bonus.

A few minutes later, in a private changing room, Sasha excused himself to sort something out, Lance posed a question to the teen.

"Harry, those snakeskin trousers made me think of something."

"Yeah?" he replied, pulling a jumper over his head.

"You said in your second year you slew a fifty-foot killer snake."

"The basilisk? Yeah." He wondered what Lance was getting at.

"Well, ignoring the fact a titchy twelve-year-old battled a monster like that-"

"Hey! A titchy twelve-year-old with a sword and Djinn enhance reflexes." Harry fired back, both annoyed and amused.

Lance smiled. "My point is you could harvest it for its skin if it's not decayed. Don't know how different it is for magical creatures, but if it's as magically powerful as it sounds, it might have helped preserve it."

"I suppose I could get Fawkes to get me into the chamber to check. Of course, if it is intact, I'll need a way to render it down."

Shaking his head, Lance answered. "Are you, or are you not, a wish-granting Djinn with access to the knowledge and powers of creation? Just bring me along and we'll sort something out."

Harry didn't get a chance to reply as Sasha returned with a set of six different automatic watches, all of which Harry 'just had to buy'.

Fifteen minutes later, and several thousand pounds lighter, Harry and Lance left the store with Sasha's phone number tucked into Harry's pocket.

Earlier, around the same time Harry was being embarrassed over the choices between briefs, boxers, and jocks, there was a much more serious conversation happening somewhere between a potions master and dark lord about a certain item at Hogwarts….

End of Chapter 7

After note: Not sure where in my mind the scene in Elvira's wand shop came from, or the strange wand holsters.

Even with this being a long chapter, most of it was easy to write, a few part were tough, but I got there.

Learnt most about Lance and his backstory, and met the hunter Greg again. Hope you didn't think I forgot about him.

The next few chapters will go right back to the start of the story, following from Greg's POV from the moment he woke up.

Chapter 8 will be on 16/03/2021

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