When the Cannons emerged at the Spyglass, the fans were already well-lubricated. 'Hey, Potter—it's dark in here!' shouted a wizard who was charmed orange. 'Can you give us a Lumos?'

Harry easily summoned his Light magic, and the fans went crazy when he started to glow. 'Bugger me!' cried the wizard, astonished.

'Sorry, I don't swing that way,' replied Harry, and loud laughter followed.

'I've seen more than my share of Cannons defeats,' declared an elderly wizard, 'but that was bloody brilliant. Are you going to do that from now on?'

'I don't know–I'm still in the accidental stage.'

'Then what in Merlin's name are you doing here?' asked another wizard with mock outrage. 'Shouldn't you be shagging your arse off somewhere?'

Their good-natured ribbing continued until Darren dragged Harry to a table. Harry was already halfway through a pint of beer someone had given him, and he was in a great mood. 'I must be a terrible Seeker for enjoying losing this much,' he grinned.

'No, you're a Cannon,' said Janet, who was sitting next to Ron. 'We lose with style.'

'Where were you?' asked Ron. 'Janet won't tell me.'

'I won't either,' said Harry. 'Team tradition.'

Ron scowled. 'After everything we've been through!' He turned to Janet and said, 'I thought I knew all his secrets, particularly since that Sorceress article came out.'

'Then it's high time you established some boundaries,' she said. 'They're a necessary part of growing up.'

Autograph-seekers started crowding around Harry, but he put them off. 'You may want to wait for tomorrow's Prophet, since it'll have photographs of me glowing.' Most of them decided to wait, but more than the usual number of people asked to have their picture taken with him.

It might have grown tiresome if Harry hadn't been glowing, but he was on top of the world. He found it challenging, however, when some of the witches became handsy, since his inclination was to respond in kind. Two of them were particularly attractive, and they asked to take a picture in which they were simultaneously kissing him on the cheek.

'How can I refuse?' he said, brimming with affection. 'You're both terribly lovely.'

'Which of us do you prefer?' one of them asked.

'I couldn't possibly decide,' he said honestly. 'It's like trying to choose between the sun and the moon.'

'Which one am I?' she replied.

'You're the sun, because you make me feel warm all over.' Turning to the other, he said, 'And you're the moon, because I'd love to see you in my bedroom at night.'

Harry knew he sounded smarmy, but he didn't care. He'd been glowing on and off for nearly two hours, and even the slightest touch from a woman was overwhelming. They posed for a photo, taken by Darren, then Harry turned and started kissing one of them.

'It appears you prefer the moon,' remarked Darren.

'To start with,' said Harry during a break. 'But a man needs both.'

Darren looked at the other witch seductively. 'Are you willing to cast your rays on me for a while?' he asked.

She smiled and said, 'All right,' and Darren led them to an unoccupied booth. Harry allowed his partner to slide in first, and he started kissing her again.

'Does kissing feel different when you're glowing like that?'

'It feels amazing. I wish everyone could experience this.' After several more minutes of breathless snogging, he pulled away and said, 'Blimey, I don't even know your name.'

'It's Jocelyn,' she replied, her lips slightly swollen. 'And the sun over there is Maryann.'

'I'm Harry,' he murmured. 'And this is Darren. We play Quidditch.'

The women laughed, and Jocelyn said, 'I knew I recognised you from somewhere!'

'Perhaps not,' joked Harry. 'I'm told I have one of those faces.'

She ran a finger along his cheekbone, which was still glowing faintly. 'You're even better-looking in person,' she said admiringly.

'Am I? I'm sorry, I know that sounds egotistical, but Allie Hobbs said she couldn't figure out why anyone thinks I'm attractive, other than my eyes. And honestly I don't see it, so I assume it's only because I'm famous.'

'You're beyond famous—you're iconic,' she declared. 'I've heard about you my entire life, only for years there weren't any photographs, so we just had to imagine what you looked like. And then when you finally turned up, you were always trying to leave the frame. I think the first proper photograph I saw of you was during the Triwizard Tournament, and even though I was sixteen and you were too young, I remember thinking "I can't wait until he's older."'

Harry noticed she hadn't contradicted his assertion that fame was his biggest draw, but it was hard to care when a beautiful witch was looking at him as she was.

'I'm so glad you always wear robes now,' she continued. 'They're dead sexy, and so much classier than Muggle clothes.'

'I'll agree that baggy trousers and football jerseys aren't the best, but I haven't given up on Muggle clothes. In fact, I'll probably start wearing them more often, just to keep from becoming too predictable.'

'Snitchbottom, I don't think there's any risk you'll become predictable,' said Darren.

'Snitchbottom?' said both witches simultaneously.

'Oh dear, it's my team nickname. Long story.'

Maryann seemed impressed that Darren had an irreverent nickname for Harry. 'What was it like, finding out Harry Potter was joining the Cannons?'

'That Prophet article was the first I heard of it,' replied Darren. 'Same for Harry, of course, but we didn't know that at the time. I'll admit I was a bit miffed they'd picked a new Seeker without having trials, and we had no idea whether Harry was a decent flyer or what he was even like, since that was before he was on the radio. I'd heard he was standoffish, which made me nervous, but it turns out that wasn't true at all.'

'Is Darren your best mate on the team?' asked Maryann.

'I don't know—do I have a best mate on the team?' he asked Darren.

'Owen. But Janet and I are your partners in crime.'

'That's true. They took me to Penumbra right after I joined the team—I'd never even heard of it before.'

'Everyone's heard of it now,' said Jocelyn. 'But the rumour is you haven't been there in weeks.'

Aware of the irony, Harry said, 'No, I decided it was too tawdry.' He emphasised his point by kissing Jocelyn on the neck.

'Oh!' she gasped. 'Yes, please!'

'Not yet, I'm famished,' declared Darren. 'Harry just sits on his arse the entire match but I throw a Quaffle back and forth, and I need more than just crisps. Do you reckon Kreacher can make us something?'

'Of course,' replied Harry. He turned to the women and asked, 'What do you want to eat?'

The women exchanged glances, and Jocelyn said, 'Can't we go out? You're always being photographed in fancy restaurants.'

'If you insist,' said Darren obligingly. 'Harry, do you object?'

'Not at all. Do you have somewhere in mind?' he asked Jocelyn.

'Mistigri?'

'No, I'm not in the mood,' said Harry, not wanting to dilute his memories of Lydia and Helena. 'How about somewhere I haven't been, which is nearly everywhere else.'

They decided on a restaurant Harry and Darren had never heard of, but which the women assured them was lovely. Harry silently asked Kreacher to make a reservation, and several minutes later the elf confirmed that a table had been set aside for as long as they wanted it.

'Not too long, mind you,' said Darren. 'I'm hungry but I don't fancy a twelve-course dinner.'

'Of course not,' said Maryann. 'It'll be just right.'

The women excused themselves to change into evening clothes, prompting Harry to wonder if he was appropriately dressed. 'You look perfect,' said Jocelyn. 'But Darren might want to smarten up.'

They made plans to meet at the restaurant in half an hour, and Harry accompanied Darren to his flat. 'Am I mistaken,' asked Darren, 'or will this be your first time with a bona fide C-squared?'

'Yes, and probably my second time as well,' replied Harry. 'Although part of me is mortified by how sleazy this is.'

'What do you mean, sleazy? It's not as if you slipped out the back of the Spyglass with her, applied Cushioning Charms to the brick wall, and shagged her on the spot before going back inside for another pint.'

'That was oddly specific.'

'No, it's happened more than once. But my point is we're taking them to dinner—and somewhere expensive, by the sound of it.'

'And that doesn't bother you?' asked Harry. 'I'm not complaining, because they're gorgeous, and the way Jocelyn kisses suggests that she, too, is stuck in the oral phase of development. But I also felt like she only sees me as someone who's rich and famous.'

'Of course she does!' called Darren from his bedroom, where he was getting dressed. 'How else would she see you?'

'I don't know—maybe like how Alex sees me.'

'Isn't Alex just using you as an opportunity to sleep around before getting married?'

'Not entirely—there's definitely romance as well. And she's remarkably clever.'

'Yes, but you can't expect that from every witch,' argued Darren. 'And both of our new friends seem clever enough—especially Jaclyn.'

'Jocelyn,' corrected Harry. 'But Vera was clever too, and yet we hadn't a thing in common. My attempts at conversation fell completely flat.'

'Then I salute you for making the most of an awkward silence,' said Darren, emerging from his bedroom in robes.

'Is that a floral waistcoat?' asked Harry.

'Yes—Romilda made me buy it. It's the same as yours, only Thimble wouldn't sell me the same colours.'

Harry looked at his pocket watch. 'It's still twenty more minutes until we meet them. Should I ask Kreacher to send over a snack? There are probably leftover scones from this morning.'

They sat on Darren's sofa munching on scones, and Harry continued to fret about bringing home a couple of C-squareds. 'I don't know why it feels weird. I've certainly gone home with women I've only just met, but except for Vera none of them made me feel like prey.'

'I see we've found the problem,' said Darren. 'You don't like being served up as the main dish. You're more of a hunter.'

'Maybe that's it. Although come to think of it, Lydia hunted me.'

'Not the same. Yes, she's the one who pursued you, but there was still conquest involved. You asserted dominance over the entire class of wizards who tried to crush you.'

'You're right, I did.' Smiling, he added, 'I can't even describe what it was like, telling her father I wouldn't marry her even though he tried to bribe me, and then plowing in right afterwards. Now that was a conquest!'

'Why can't you see Jocelyn that way? Don't you think you earned it?'

'Maybe cumulatively, but not in the moment. And with her I suspect it's mostly just a combination of "Boy Who Lived" and "Lord Black," neither of which is me.'

'Harry, you're not giving yourself enough credit. Those credentials would have got stale already if you didn't back them up with something.'

'Sorceress, you mean?'

'Yes, and league Seeker, and Britain's most popular radio personality. And I'm deliberately leaving out the Voldemort stuff—not because you didn't earn it, but because it's related to the Boy Who Lived.'

'The radio is also the Boy Who Lived,' argued Harry.

'Nobody would listen if you were boring. You'd just be a sad tosser trying to hang on to celebrity, like an ageing child actor. But getting back to your problem, I think you're too efficient. You've somehow applied the principles of mass production to the traditionally bespoke task of pulling.'

'Haven't you as well?'

'Yes, but comparatively speaking, I'm a cottage industry and you're Henry bloody Ford.'

Harry sighed. 'What about tonight, then? I don't fancy feeling like a product off an assembly line.'

'Are you a Light wizard or not?' cried Darren. 'Get out of your sodding head and return to the present moment! Two beautiful witches are currently making themselves even more gorgeous for the express purpose of getting into your enormous bed. So quit whinging and show me some glow!'

Chuckling, Harry allowed himself to glow until it was time to meet their dates, and his doubts largely vanished. Darren is right, he thought. I'm a sodding Light wizard who's just gone public, and I'm free to act like one.

He dimmed his glow, and they travelled by Floo to the restaurant. 'It's awfully dark in here,' he whispered to Darren. 'Not Penumbra dark, but I'm still likely to blind everyone.'

'I thought you said you can modulate it now. Perhaps you can aim for candlelight, and maybe a more yellowish cast. Your current hue is a bit bluish, which mightn't be flattering in a dark restaurant.'

The host greeted them enthusiastically, and while they waited they perused the menu. 'Excuse me,' said Harry. 'There aren't any prices listed.'

'Oh, I beg your pardon,' replied the host. 'I gave you the witches' menu, which omits the prices. Here's the wizards' menu,' he said, handing it to them.

Darren's jaw dropped when he saw how much everything cost. 'Maryann had better know what she's doing, because I could probably pay for a trip to France with my half of the bill.' Harry offered to cover more than half, but Darren refused. 'No, I got you into this—I won't be a freeloader on top of everything else. But we should both order the chicken.'

The women finally arrived, and Harry inhaled sharply when he saw them. On the one hand, he was nearly overcome by desire and proud that they fancied him. But on the other hand, their dresses left little to the imagination, and he was certain they'd be described in detail in Sunday's gossip column. Or photographed, he thought with mild alarm.

But his anxiety vanished when Jocelyn leaned in to kiss him. 'Sorry to keep you waiting,' she said. 'We had trouble deciding what to wear. Is this too revealing? I know Muggle film actresses dress like this, but is it too much for a wizarding setting?'

'Nobody could possibly describe that dress as "too much,"' he said. 'Particularly the neckline. But you look absolutely stunning, and the only problem is that I'll be staring so hard that I might have trouble getting my fork into my mouth.'

The host led them to their booth, which to Harry's relief was relatively secluded, but every head turned as they passed. Harry noted with amusement that wizards looked first at Maryann's legs, since her dress had a short skirt, and then at Jocelyn's cleavage. But when they saw Harry, several wizards tightened with alarm.

One couple left in a hurry, but another wizard stayed put and signalled for the host. Harry suspected what the problem was, and he was proven right when the host returned to their table. 'Mr Potter,' he said. 'I apologise for the interruption, but several of our guests are concerned for their safety. May I offer them reassurances?'

'Yes. Just tell them not to curse anyone in my presence, but otherwise there's no danger. I've been experiencing accidental Light magic for a month, and I haven't hurt anyone, including numerous Dark wizards I've interacted with.'

'Thank you, sir. I was unfamiliar with Light magic until this afternoon, so this is all very educational. I'll tell them there's nothing to worry about.'

The witches were studying their menus, and they seemed delighted by the options. 'Everything looks so good!' exclaimed Maryann. 'But I can't decide whether to have something I'm familiar with, like prawn cocktail, or to try things I've only heard of, like caviar.'

'I say play it safe,' advised Darren. 'You don't want an upset stomach to spoil your evening.'

'That's true. But perhaps we could order some caviar for the table, so everyone can try some. Although I'm sure Harry is used to it.'

Harry was about to protest, but then he remembered Lydia had served caviar that night at her flat. 'I've only had it once, but it was good,' he admitted, and he tried not to wince when Darren kicked him under the table.

They agreed on several starters, including the brutally-priced caviar, and everyone discussed the main course. 'The chicken looks fantastic,' said Darren. 'Harry, what do you think?'

The chicken was not, in fact, Harry's first choice, but he felt he owed Darren after the caviar, so he said, 'That does look good. I'll have it as well.'

'I've never had lobster,' said Jocelyn. 'And the menu says it was imported just this afternoon from North America!'

'But what about the veal medallions with foie gras?' replied Maryann. 'Those also look lovely!'

Darren had gone pale, and his attempts to speak didn't seem to work, but Harry came to the rescue. 'I've heard that foie gras production is extremely cruel,' he said, recalling a lecture from Hermione. 'And veal as well—apparently they separate the calves from their mothers and raise them in a tiny pen before slaughtering them.'

'I could never eat that!' insisted Maryann. 'I guess I'll have the truffled rack of lamb instead.'

'What about wine?' asked Jocelyn. 'I could fancy champagne, and I'll bet they have some good elf-made varieties.'

Darren sprang into action. 'Actually, I have a friend who works for a wine importer, and he says Prosecco is every bit as good as champagne, or even better. Apparently waiters can spot a connoisseur right away if they bypass the elf-made wines and order Prosecco instead. Or, if you prefer red wine, a nice Rioja.'

'I've heard that too,' lied Harry, and the women appeared to buy it.

The waiter didn't smirk when they placed their order, and Harry suspected he was accustomed to gross disparities depending on who had the menu with the prices. Darren appeared to relax, and his occasional involuntary utterances suggested Maryann was massaging him under the table. Hopefully just his leg, thought Harry, but he decided to cast it from his mind and focus on Jocelyn.

'Have you always been a Cannons fan?' he asked.

'Not as such,' she admitted. 'I grew up supporting the Catapults, and my parents are still huge fans, but I find I'm more interested in the individual players' personalities rather than who wins or loses. You're all tremendous athletes, and winning is often just a matter of luck—no offence.'

'None taken, especially today,' replied Harry. 'Did you attend the match?'

'No, I heard it on the radio.'

'Forgive me for asking, but what did they say when I started glowing? Did they know it was Light magic? And when did they first spot it?'

'At first all they said about you was that the banners were particularly vicious, and that you appeared distracted during your first feint because of your ex-girlfriend.'

'They were right—I was distracted, and Hobbs didn't help.'

'Yes, they talked about her as well. One of the announcers was primarily observing the Seekers, and he had trouble deciding which of you was dominating the conversation. He could see that Hobbs was on the attack, but that you looked very relaxed and weren't sneering as usual.'

Harry was appalled. 'I usually sneer?'

'Not today, nor last week against Ballycastle, but normally yes. They said you finally looked like the Harry Potter who's on the radio and not a colossal snob.'

'I guess that's good news, but I'm mortified to find out I looked like such an arrogant prat up there.'

'Don't worry—no one thought any less of you. I think it just adds to your mystique. Aloof, you know.' In a lower voice, she added, 'That's why it's so exciting being right next to you. It's like being admitted to the inner circle.'

Various parts of Harry's mind were screaming in protest, but his body and ego conspired to enjoy her praise. 'Technically speaking, you're the one with the inner circle,' he murmured.

'I suppose I am,' she replied. 'And you'll definitely be admitted.'

He couldn't resist kissing her, even though they were in public. Light magic, he told himself. People will be disappointed if I don't misbehave at least a little.

Their Prosecco arrived, and Darren made a show of appreciating it. 'It's much less cloying than champagne, don't you think?'

The women seemed to like it, but they were disappointed when they saw how small the serving of caviar was. 'That's hardly one spoonful per person,' observed Maryann, and she took the liberty of asking the waiter to bring another.

Darren dropped his head into his palm, but he quickly recovered and ran a hand through his hair, tousling it. 'I'm certain it will be delightful,' he said almost giddily. 'But let's not order any more—I'd hate to spoil my appetite.'

Two orders of caviar proved to be enough, and Jocelyn resumed telling Harry what the announcers had said during the match. 'The one watching the Seekers insisted something was going on with your hands, and they thought it was odd you were still reacting to the Glowpox vaccine. But then someone told them about Light magic, which I'd never heard of—besides the Patronus Charm—and there was a debate about whether you were experiencing it. Still, it was only speculation until your face started glowing as well, and after that they barely covered the match. Apparently the Cannons publicity department had prepared a press release, which they provided to the announcers.'

'Did anyone mention the libido side effect?' asked Darren.

'Not at first, because it wasn't in the press release, but someone told the announcers, and then it was all they could talk about. Honestly, I feel sorry for anyone who was trying to follow the match—they'd talk for five minutes straight about Harry's sex life, and then one of the announcers would say, "Cannons score, pulling ahead 110-70.'

'They didn't even say who did it?' cried Darren indignantly. 'That figures, considering I outscored Ryan for once.'

Conversation continued, but the women mainly seemed interested in Harry, and even their questions for Darren were about him. 'What are his parties like?' asked Maryann. 'I heard the guest rooms are out of this world.'

'They are,' replied Darren. 'But I assume tonight you want to experience his enormous bed.'

She did, and there was saucy conversation about how their evening might proceed. 'My house-elf makes excellent puddings,' said Harry. 'Perhaps we could skip the final course and eat something later at home.'

'That's a great suggestion!' said Darren, a little too enthusiastically. 'We could eat it in bed.'

The women loved the idea, and Harry's relief on Darren's behalf caused him to start glowing. Everyone else in the restaurant turned to look at him, including the wizard who had asked for assurances he'd be safe. I love you, thought Harry, smiling. You all deserve to experience this.

Many of the other patrons smiled back at him, but several scowled and conspicuously shaded their eyes. 'Methinks not everyone appreciates your new trick,' observed Darren.

'I'm not surprised,' replied Harry. 'They're probably Dark Arts practitioners.'

'But why do they even bother with the Dark Arts, if Light magic is superior?' asked Jocelyn.

'Light magic is harder to learn,' replied Darren. 'But from what I can tell, it's worth the effort.'

'Oh god, yes,' said Harry breathlessly, and he kissed Jocelyn for good measure. His hands began to roam and he was kissing her neck again when the waiter arrived with their meals.

'That was good timing,' said Darren. 'The other customers were starting to glare.'

'Not that couple over there,' said Maryann. 'The husband moved his chair so he'd have a better view, and he put his arm around his wife.'

'No one is going to be interested in the Dark Arts now,' declared Jocelyn as she adjusted the top of her dress. 'Clearly the Light Arts are where it's at.'

'That's one of Harry's goals in going public,' said Darren. 'He wants to prevent the next war.'

The two witches nearly swooned. 'Oh, Harry!' gasped Maryann. 'That's so noble! Just imagine how many lives you're saving!'

But Harry's glow dimmed as they ate, and he realised he was uncomfortable with how much Jocelyn and Maryann were fawning over him. It had been nice for a little while, particularly after all the abuse he'd taken from Allie Hobbs and the Harpyheads, but he also felt invisible. Which is ironic, he realised, considering how starstruck they are.

He said as much to Darren when the two women went to the loo. 'Doesn't it bother you that they're only interested because you're a league Chaser?' he asked. 'It's so shallow.'

'News flash, Snitchbottom: You're shallow too. There were plenty of women at the Spyglass trying to catch your eye, but you picked the two that were the hottest.'

'Bugger, you're right! I'm as bad as they are.'

'You're not bad—you're human. My Muggle cousin was telling me about evolution, and she said we're biologically compelled to seek partners that would produce the healthiest offspring. As men, we're drawn to women with symmetrical features and bodies that are likely to survive childbirth and provide adequate milk.'

Harry considered this for a moment. 'In other words, pretty faces, hips, and breasts?'

'Exactly. And women are drawn to men who are physically fit and high-status. And you personally get bonus points for being sensitive and nurturing, since that means you're more likely to stick around and help raise the sprogs instead of just making a deposit and scarpering. I hate to say it, but being visibly heartbroken over Ginny probably made you even more fuckable.'

'How is this supposed to cheer me up?' asked Harry. 'Clearly we're all despicably shallow, which is seriously depressing.'

'It's not depressing, it's freeing! Why do you think I kept Romilda around for so long?'

'Because she used Compulsion Charms?'

'No, I checked. The answer is because I accepted that evolution was calling the shots. Say what you will about Romilda, but her body absolutely screams "healthy offspring." Which on its own would have been terrifying, but thanks to Contraception Charms there was no need to worry. So I could allow my caveman instincts to have their fill, and my higher sensibilities couldn't complain because they understood why I was doing it.'

'That has to be the all-time biggest rationalisation I've ever heard,' said Harry. 'Are you recommending I do the same?'

'Not at all. You can send our two new friends packing tomorrow morning—I'm certain they don't expect anything long-term, thanks to your delightful vow. You'll be free to see Alex again after the weekend, but in the meantime you'll have satisfied your evolutionary drive to pass along your genetic material. Again, figuratively.'

'I suppose you're right. The fact is I do want to take them home and "pass along my genetic material." And yes, they mightn't ever see past the Boy Who Lived and Lord Black, but Alex does, and I'll see her again on Tuesday. And besides, she told me to see other people.'

Darren looked relieved. 'Does this mean I've talked you off the ledge?'

'You have done,' said Harry, finishing his glass of wine. 'Are you sure I can't cover more than half the bill?'

'Yes. It's my job to know about the most expensive wizarding restaurants and cleverly steer witches away from them, but I was completely blindsided.'

'I once took Lydia to a chip shop. The night after I deflowered her, in fact.'

Darren nodded approvingly. 'You really deserve another Order of Merlin for that.'

The women returned and playfully switched seats, which meant Harry was next to Maryann. She looked longingly at him and said, 'Jocelyn and I decided we'd rather trade back and forth. Otherwise it's just two partners in a row, which doesn't make the most of the opportunity.'

Harry experienced a sudden decline in his verbal skills, so he responded nonverbally instead, both above the table and below. 'We just need the bill,' he finally said. 'Oh god, where is it?'

The waiter arrived and astutely refrained from suggesting dessert. They probably want us to leave anyway, thought Harry. 'Just the bill,' he said between kisses. 'My friend Darren and I will split it evenly.'

Neither of them had enough Galleons at hand to pay with coins, so they both authorised the transfer from their vaults. 'There goes my pay cheque,' joked Darren as Jocelyn nibbled on his ear. 'Easy come, easy go.'

'Was dinner that expensive?' asked Maryann, concerned.

'Ruinously,' said Harry casually. 'But it was worth it. Only we really should go,' he added, nudging her.

'Do you think there are photographers outside?' she asked.

'Probably, but we can avoid them and Floo directly to my house. I just need to go first and add you to the wards.'

Darren shook his head. 'Snitchbottom, you have to be photographed tonight, if our lovely companions are willing. Don't you want to stop the next war?'

The witches both nodded insistently, and Harry sighed in capitulation. 'I suppose I should glow as well?'

'Naturally,' said Darren. 'Come on, let's have it.'

Harry closed his eyes and invited his Light magic to arise gently, in order not to blind everyone in the restaurant. But Maryann simultaneously squeezed his thigh and blew on his neck, and Light magic tore through him.

'I was trying to modulate it!' he laughed as they exited their booth. 'I'm so sorry,' he said to the other customers as they walked towards the exit. Nearly everyone was shading their eyes, and several people were scowling, but others smiled or even gave him a thumbs up.

They walked outside and were greeted by a small crowd of reporters and photographers. All four of them posed together, and Harry did his best to dodge questions. 'Read the article in tomorrow's Prophet,' he told them repeatedly.

'Will you at least confirm that Light magic is affecting your libido?' asked a reporter.

'What do you think?' he replied, prompting laughter. 'Yes, I'm apparently a textbook example, and it's bloody brilliant. Voldemort had no idea what he was missing.'

The women declined to provide their names, and they went back inside and travelled by Floo to Grimmauld Place. 'Oh, it's so shabby!' exclaimed Maryann, disappointed. 'The photographs in that shop window made it look more posh.'

'I prefer the shabbiness,' said Harry, 'but I can spruce it up if you like. Attach wallpaper!'

The women were impressed, and Harry switched to the peacock feather wallpaper before leading them into the entrance hall. Padfoot was lounging on a vast dog bed with the spaniel, the beribboned lapdog, and the Hippogriff, and Darren showed the women how to throw in treats. They were predictably delighted, and the next stop was the drawing room.

'Harry James Black,' recited Jocelyn reverently. 'My mum is obsessed with the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and now you're one of them.'

'No, I'm not. My surname is Potter, and my mother was Muggle-born.'

She shook her head. 'My mum says the only reason the Potters weren't Sacred Twenty-Eight, or Twenty-Nine, rather, is because it's a common Muggle surname. But otherwise your father's family was just as old and pure as the others.'

'Like the Gaunts? I certainly hope not! And besides, the Potters were middle-class blood traitors.'

'You don't look middle-class to me,' she purred. 'Can I see the ring?'

'No, it's ghastly.'

'Come on, Snitchbottom,' said Darren. 'You have to show it to them! And besides, it's not as if they won't see the rest of you.'

'The ring's not me—it's a hideous barnacle that's attached to me. The answer is no.'

A heated negotiation followed, and the witches won by revealing previously hidden parts of themselves. By then, Harry was glowing again, so he was no longer cross about having to show them the ring. 'Now do you believe me?' he asked, once it was visible.

'Oh my god, it's enormous!' laughed Maryann.

'It is tacky,' said Jocelyn, 'but so are the Muggle Crown Jewels, if you think about it. Won't you keep it visible, just for tonight? I want to feel it on me.'

'Do you have a Dark Wizard fetish?' asked Harry. 'Because if you do, I'm definitely not your man.'

'Of course not,' she said, guiding his ringed hand onto one of the previously covered parts of her anatomy. 'But oh ... it feels lovely! Let Maryann try.'

Harry obliged her, and Maryann agreed with her friend. 'Can we go to your bedroom now?' she murmured.

Darren needed no further prompting, and he bounded up the stairs two at a time. He was already removing his robes when Jocelyn announced she wanted to see Harry's wardrobe. 'Can't it wait?' asked Harry impatiently.

'It'll only take a minute,' she pleaded.

'No, it won't,' said Darren. 'Remember whose wardrobe we're talking about.'

The women got the hint, and from then on the evening met everyone's highest expectations. Harry put a stack of records on the player, and Darren, who clearly had experience with four in a bed, cast charms for maintaining just the right amount of privacy. Harry initially found it jarring to see the Black family ring on his hand, but otherwise he had few complaints about the experience.

When they were ready for a break, he sent for the pudding Kreacher had prepared, which they ate in bed. Like Romilda, the women were disappointed the trays weren't silver, but they loved the flowers and made the most of them afterwards.

'Harry, I don't care what you say,' announced Maryann, wearing a makeshift wreath. 'You're a wizarding lord, and I feel like a proper aristocrat right now.'

'A proper courtesan, more like,' said Darren, earning himself a hard whack with a bouquet. 'A high-born courtesan,' he clarified. 'The type who's the illegitimate daughter of a duke.'

'Lordships are bollocks,' groaned Harry, stretching. 'How many times do I need to repeat that?'

'More, apparently,' said Darren. 'Clearly no one got the message.'

'You have to admit, the Light Lord is a fantastic nickname,' said Jocelyn. 'And it's especially good considering you're the Boy Who Lived.'

'Could you please not refer to me as a "boy" when we're naked in bed together?'

'Snitchbottom really knows how to whinge,' observed Darren. 'You must have been an absolute delight during those months in the tent.'

'What will it take to get everyone to stop talking?' asked Harry in exasperation.

'I have an idea,' said Darren, earning another whack from Maryann.

Harry, however, agreed with Darren, and conversation largely stopped. Much later, Harry awoke at the edge of the bed, and he saw that Darren, Maryann, and Jocelyn were dozing in a tangle, several feet away. Only I could manage to feel alone in a bed with three other people, he thought glumly.

He'd had a tremendous time, and his body still tingled from the experience. But he felt empty as well, and his Light magic was somehow inaccessible. I'm definitely a manwhore. Even if I hadn't promised not to marry until I'm twenty-one, what normal witch would want me?

Ginny knew me better than anyone, and she dumped me. Scratch that—Hermione knows me better than anyone, and she wasn't even interested. Not that I was either, but still. He knew that Helena had genuinely cared for him, but he found it hard to believe she was so noble as to break up with him simply because they were too young. Clearly she saw the writing on the wall, he thought sadly. She decided it was better to dump me before we were in too deep.

Admittedly Lydia had fallen for him, but the Harry she loved had only been a fantasy. For Merlin's sake, she thought I could go to a magical brothel and not be tempted. How unrealistic can you get?

He found himself wishing Alex didn't have a fiancé. Or, better yet, perhaps Owen would relent about Fiona. But why would he? Sunday's gossip column would confirm just how debauched he was, and that he was unworthy to date the grieving young widow.

Which leaves only C-squareds, thought Harry resignedly. Jocelyn and Maryann were beautiful and a lot of fun, but they were clearly more enamoured of his public persona than they were of Harry himself. They wouldn't give me the time of day if I weren't a Seeker, and if Neville had been the Boy Who Lived. I'd just be a short, middle-class half-blood with untidy hair. And Merlin help me if I'd been poor.

Harry felt bad for thinking ill of them, since they weren't actually snobs, as far he could tell. But they clearly fancied him because of how he made them feel about themselves. 'That's why it's so exciting being right next to you,' Jocelyn had said. 'It's like being admitted to the inner circle.'

With a sigh, he acknowledged they were all driven by unconscious needs. He was programmed by nature to be attracted to beautiful, sexy women, and they also satisfied the part of him who still smarted from years of scorn. And now Light magic was wreaking havoc with his behaviour—on the one hand it was delightful, but on the other hand he disliked the lack of control.

He tried falling back asleep but was unable to. It's just as well, he thought dispiritedly. The last thing I want is to have a nightmare with so many witnesses. But he was tired, so he eventually left a note on the nightstand and made his way to Regulus's old room. I may as well get accustomed to the Slytherin hangings, since that's my new house.

Hours later he awoke to a tapping on the window, and to his dismay he saw the Malfoys' post bird—a pale grey Northern Harrier, with black-tipped wings. Here we go, he thought, opening the window to collect the letter. It was brief, and Narcissa's writing was less even than usual:

I told you to avoid causing a scandal! Come to the Manor at once to discuss how you'll fix this.

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Shouldn't I at least shower first? he thought irritably, and he was tempted not to. I should just turn up in boxers, with one or both witches pawing me.

But he showered anyway, and he resisted the urge to wear the Slytherin robes he found in Regulus's wardrobe. Instead he returned to his bedroom, where Darren and the two women were enjoying breakfast in bed. 'This morning's Prophet is something else,' said Darren. 'Have you seen it yet?'

'No, but I just received an angry letter from Narcissa Malfoy. What's the upshot?'

Darren and the witches told him about Rita's article, which was exactly as Harry anticipated. But there was also a large sidebar about Harry's public night of debauchery. 'The Light Lord and his Ladies,' said the headline, and it showed a photograph of him with Jocelyn and Maryann. Darren had been conveniently cropped out, although he was mentioned in the article, and a glowing Harry alternated between snogging the two witches.

'We didn't even kiss in front of the photographers!' cried Harry.

'Apparently Light magic has an effect on how photographs behave,' said Darren.

'He's right,' said Jocelyn. 'You actually started feeling me up a few minutes ago.'

'And they printed that!' exclaimed Harry, aghast. 'Why didn't Rita prevent it?'

'She's trying to promote the Light Arts, remember?' said Darren. 'And believe me, it'll work. If I weren't otherwise engaged at the moment, I'd be queuing up to find a teacher.'

Harry's eyes were still glued to the photograph, in which he'd knelt down and begun licking Maryann's inner thigh. 'I realise we were inappropriate in public, but we weren't this bad! Or were we?'

'No, we weren't,' Darren assured him. 'But read the article—there are plenty of quotes from the other diners describing our behaviour, including the bit where Jaclyn and Marilyn traded places.'

'Jocelyn!' and 'Maryann!' cried the women indignantly, and they became even more cross when they discovered Darren was unsure which one was which. Harry distracted them with a brief tour of his wardrobe, which drew oohs and ahs. 'You have to wear the white robes this morning,' announced Maryann, but Harry decided on green, to emphasise his Slytherin identity. Jocelyn selected a boutonnière, which was a flower he didn't recognise, and Harry grabbed a scone and hurried downstairs.

Within moments he was at Malfoy Manor, where both Narcissa and Andromeda awaited him, and, to his surprise, Teddy. 'Harry, what were you thinking!' said Andromeda as soon as he appeared.

'It was the Light magic!' he began, but Narcissa interrupted him in fury.

'Couldn't you at least wait until you were in private before ... suckling her!'

'What! Oh my god!' he cried. 'Of course I did! No, the Light magic obviously interacts with photographs. All we did was pose for portraits, and at most I was holding Maryann's hand. They cropped my friend Darren from the picture.'

'But the eyewitnesses saw you groping both of them in the restaurant!' persisted Andromeda.

'Well, yes,' admitted Harry. 'And I agree that wasn't appropriate public behaviour. But I certainly didn't do what that photograph is doing.' He looked at it again and gasped, 'Sweet Merlin, I've never even done that in real life!' For a moment he was fascinated before he remembered where he was. 'What do you want me to do?' he asked simply.

'Can you go on the radio today?' asked Andromeda. 'Announce that the photograph was inaccurate, due to the Light magic?'

'Nobody will know to listen to Lee and George today,' said Harry. 'They only broadcast on Tuesdays.'

'What about one of the other announcers?' suggested Narcissa.

'I'd really rather not. Do you think it would be sufficient to have the Cannons publicity team send an urgent press release?'

The sisters were silent for a moment. 'Yes, I think that would be all right,' said Narcissa. 'But you need to go to Pratt's and explain yourself.'

'What am I supposed to say exactly?'

'I don't know!' she snapped. 'I don't have any experience with this sort of thing. Andromeda, what do you suggest?'

'Just tell the truth, that your Light magic interfered with the photograph somehow. Although that's another problem—have you heard anything yet from the Pratt's management?'

'You mean have they kicked me out? No, not yet.'

'I found it,' called Draco, entering the room carrying a large toy dragon. 'And no wonder Nitta couldn't find it—I'd hidden it in the secret toy cupboard that's warded against house-elves.' The dragon was large and partially blocked his face, which meant he only saw Harry after he'd set it down. 'Oh look, it's the Light Lord. I hope you at least showered before coming over.'

Harry remained silent, not wanting to dignify Draco's accusation with a response, but both Andromeda and Narcissa looked at him questioningly. 'Of course I showered! Give me a little credit!'

'Draco, the photograph was affected by Harry's Light magic,' said Andromeda. 'He didn't actually behave that way in front of the cameras.'

'No, just in the restaurant,' said Draco. 'I should curse you for ruining my chance for an early release, but we both know my current wand is useless. And you'll probably snap my next wand, or worse.'

'What makes you think I've ruined your chances?' asked Harry. 'And why aren't you more upset?'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Some Slytherin you are. You've ruined my chances because nobody is going to believe you're in your right mind. They'll think I Confunded you, or that Mother did.' He unfurled the toy dragon in front of Teddy and added, 'And I'm not upset because I knew you'd screw it up somehow. Honestly, I was expecting a last-minute disappointment, so this almost comes as a relief.'

'I really don't think it'll be a problem,' said Harry. 'I can go to Pratt's now, and I'm having lunch in a few hours with Kingsley. I just need to ask the Cannons publicity team to make an announcement on my behalf.'

'I suppose they've grown accustomed to cleaning up after you,' said Draco. 'And who knows, maybe your patented uncanny good luck will come through in the end, although it didn't work against the Harpies.'

Harry shrugged. 'The streak couldn't last forever.' He looked at the toy dragon and asked, 'How does this thing work anyway?'

'Oh right, the head of House Black was raised by Muggles. All I need to do is refresh the charms, which is probably the only task my wand is suited to, and then Teddy can ride it like a little train. And if his magic is strong enough, it'll fly and breathe fire. Pretend fire, that is.'

'His magic is strong enough,' said Harry and Andromeda at the same time.

'Yes, yes ... hybrid vigour,' said Narcissa dismissively, and Draco refreshed the toy's charms. Andromeda goaded the suspicious toddler onto the dragon, and it immediately glided aloft and exhaled golden flames.

'Da-gon!' cried Teddy gleefully, holding the dragon's neck, and both Malfoys looked impressed.

'Well done, half-breed,' announced Draco. 'It just proves how strong the Black blood is.'

Harry was about to tear into him when he realised Draco was taking the piss. 'You'll have to try harder than that, Malfoy.'

'Mother, did you just see that? Potter didn't fly off the handle, even though I deliberately provoked him!'

'Harry, you should send that letter straight away, and then go to Pratt's,' ordered Narcissa. 'But for Merlin's sake, change your boutonnière!'

'What's wrong with this one?'

'It's hellebore, which signifies "scandal,"' explained Andromeda. 'But surely you have some lilies.'

'I think so,' replied Harry, recalling the wreath Maryann had worn. 'I'm sorry I didn't foresee this. The photographs I took with Rita on Tuesday came out completely normal.'

'You probably didn't have such strong ... emotions around her,' said Andromeda.

'I, for one, am relieved that there are limits to Potter's insatiable lust,' declared Draco. 'But go on, try to salvage my early release. It'll be so much more exciting when it fails at the last minute.'

'It won't fail,' said Harry. 'See you Wednesday.'

He returned home by Floo and found Darren and the two witches still in his bedroom. Darren was in bed, propped up on pillows and wearing the floral wreath, and the women were modelling Harry's wardrobe. 'This scarf is fantastic,' announced Jocelyn, who was wearing his foulard and little else. 'Why haven't you been photographed in it yet?'

'I will be this week, assuming we figure out why I behaved so weirdly in that photograph.' He took a spray of lilies of the valley from Darren's wreath and said, 'Sorry I can't stick around, but it's time for damage control.'

'When will we see you again?' asked Maryann, who looked lovely in the outer cloak of his formal robes. Although Robert de Montesquiou would probably have been horrified to see them worn that way, mused Harry.

'Er,' he began, unsure how to reply.

'Harry's girlfriend is coming back from Ireland,' said Darren. 'Obviously he was free to see other people, or else he'd be in big trouble now, but it was only for the weekend.'

'Oh, all right,' said Maryann, and she and Jocelyn both looked disappointed.

Harry assured them he'd had a wonderful time, and that he'd never forget them. And neither will anyone else, he added internally. He kissed them both goodbye before dashing downstairs to write to Susanna and Thaddeus. In a single paragraph he explained what had happened and apologetically asked for them to set the record straight. 'I'll instruct Kreacher to follow your orders this morning, which I hope will simplify the task,' he wrote.

Kreacher seemed delighted to have an exciting new mission, so Harry sent him away. Mischief managed, he thought with satisfaction, even though he knew the job was far from complete. 'Pratt's,' he said clearly, tossing a pinch of Floo powder into the grate.