When Harry went to sign the register at Pratt's, the wizard behind the counter politely stopped him. 'Mr Potter, would you be so kind as to follow me?'
'Shouldn't I sign in?' he asked uneasily.
'We'd prefer not to alarm the other members,' replied the wizard. 'Please, follow me.' The wizard led him to a private room and said, 'Wait here, please. I'll summon a house-elf to provide whatever you need.'
Harry thanked him, recalling that he'd be unable to call a house-elf himself without first signing the register. At least they haven't suspended my elf privileges entirely.
The wizard snapped his fingers for an elf and then left, closing the door behind him. 'Good morning, Mr Potter. How may Cuppy be of service?'
'Good morning, Cuppy,' replied Harry. 'Could you please bring me some breakfast?'
Cuppy was very pleased to take Harry's order for a large English breakfast, which he delivered soon after. Harry was eating heartily when the door opened again, and he quickly rose to his feet.
'Please, there's no need to stand,' said Dunston, the club secretary Harry had met on his first visit. 'I didn't expect you to receive our owl this quickly, but I'm delighted you could make it.'
'Did you owl me?' asked Harry. 'I actually came of my own accord, to set the record straight.'
'So much the better. I believe you already know Oscar Abbott and Reginald Baxter,' he said, indicating the two grey-haired wizards accompanying him. 'And Silas Yawton, of course.'
'Yes, we met last week,' replied Harry. He knew that Abbott and Baxter represented the Light and Dark factions, which presumably had distinct concerns. Abbott looked at Harry as if to chastise him, although in a friendly manner, and Baxter avoided eye contact entirely.
The four wizards sat down, and Dunston said, 'Potter, I'll get straight to the point: Our members want assurances they're safe in your presence. As you know, Pratt's puts member safety above all else, and the club has every possible protection in place. However, there's no way to protect against Light magic, particularly the accidental variety, and I need to know the details of your ... manifestation.'
'Did you read Rita Skeeter's article this morning?' asked Harry.
'Of course,' said Dunston. 'But she's not known for her slavish devotion to the truth.'
'No, but in this case the article was completely accurate, and as long as nobody attempts Dark magic around me they'll be fine.'
'But how can you be certain?' said Baxter, still averting his eyes.
'It's been nearly a month, and I've interacted with several Dark wizards who wished me ill.'
'Who were they?' persisted Baxter. 'Are you sure they were competent?'
'Desmond Travers and Draco Malfoy. I'll let you decide whether they were competent.'
'Did they actually try to hurt you?' asked Abbott.
'They both attempted aggressive Legilimency and were unsuccessful. Malfoy also ambushed me with an extremely cruel prank, which was designed to cause severe emotional distress. And neither of them were hurt.' Harry deliberately omitted the bit about Draco's Dark Mark.
'Baxter, I've told you there's no risk,' insisted Yawton. 'The membership committee discussed the possibility before making Potter an offer. We even solicited your opinion, as you'll recall.'
'You never mentioned Light magic! You merely asked how I'd feel about having Potter as a member, which at the time I believed was the best way to handle him.'
Harry almost wished they'd forget about his presence so he could learn more, but Baxter turned towards him again. 'Are you're certain it's genuine Light magic?'
'Of course it is,' scoffed Abbott. 'What more evidence do you need?'
'Yes, it's genuine,' replied Harry. 'I should also point out that it's been happening for nearly a month, and I haven't hurt anyone, including a stadium full of hostile Quidditch fans.'
Abbott chuckled and said, 'Baxter, you can't possibly accuse the Harpyheads of not disliking Potter enough.'
'I suppose you're right,' admitted the Dark wizard. 'But Potter, why didn't you say anything? You had a responsibility to disclose your status before joining.'
'No, I didn't. I read everything in the information packet I was given, and there was nothing about Light magic.'
'Technically you're correct,' acknowledged Baxter. 'But in your omission you joined under false pretences.'
'Nonsense!' cried Abbott. 'You're only upset because you thought Pratt's might subdue him, when clearly it won't.'
Baxter harrumphed indignantly, and Dunston began trying to make peace, but Harry interrupted them. 'Yes, I know I probably wouldn't have been offered membership if my Light magic were public, and I accepted the offer in part because I knew I'd never get another chance. But I'm sincere about wanting to get to know my fellow wizards, particularly those on the Wizengamot, and I believe I have a lot to learn here.'
'You want to push your agenda,' grumbled Baxter.
'Of course I do—just as you want to push yours. But surely you knew that about me before offering me membership.'
'They hoped you'd be easier to manipulate,' said Abbott. 'And frankly, so did I.'
'Baxter, have I addressed your concerns about safety?' asked Harry. 'I really have no desire to hurt anyone.'
'Yes,' said Baxter grudgingly. 'But that's not our only concern.' He glanced at the other wizards.
'Your discretion,' said Yawton. 'Pratt's is exceedingly private, and we have grave concerns about your ability to safeguard that privacy.'
'If you're referring to the photograph from last night, it was inaccurate.'
'Poppycock,' blurted Baxter. 'Photographs don't lie. They might exaggerate a bit, but they don't materially misrepresent anyone.'
'Apparently they do when Light magic is involved,' replied Harry. 'I give you my word that when I posed for that photograph, I was only holding hands with one of the witches, and not even touching the other.'
The four wizards looked astonished, and Abbott started to laugh. 'You mean you weren't groping them in public?' exclaimed Yawton.
'Er, I did in the restaurant—that bit was true. Although not like I was in the photograph.'
'I should hope not!' said Dunston. 'If my kids weren't currently at school, we'd have had to hide the newspaper from them. Although I daresay it's making the rounds at Hogwarts as we speak.'
'Oh god, Minerva's going to kill me,' muttered Harry. 'Does anyone know where I can find Rita Skeeter on a Sunday morning? I should really give her a piece of my mind.'
'She'll be at the Dapperling Tea Shop,' said Yawton. 'That's where all the reporters congregate.'
'At a tea shop?' asked Harry sceptically.
'It's a bar,' replied Yawton. 'Only they serve food and tea as well.'
'Do you really mean to go there?' asked Abbott, concerned. 'It's the last place you want to lose your temper.'
'I won't lose my temper,' said Harry confidently. 'Rita and I are on good terms, but I'm getting the sense she needs some pushback from time to time. And besides, I need to get the word out that the photo was inaccurate.'
'But about your discretion,' continued Yawton. 'In offering you membership, we hoped you'd take advantage of the Boudoir, which has long been a refuge for energetic young wizards like yourself.'
'I think I made it clear in the article why that's not an option.'
'Surely you wouldn't fall in love with a fille de joie!' exclaimed Baxter, appalled. 'Did you fall in love with your two witches last night?'
'No, but with Light magic it's an enormous risk,' he replied. 'And as fantastic as Light magic is, the loss of control is no joke. I can guarantee I won't hurt anyone, but when it comes to witches I'm extremely impulsive.'
Frowning, Abbott asked, 'Yes, about that ... Might there be another reason you're advocating for Draco Malfoy's early release?'
'If you're asking whether the Malfoys bribed me with prostitutes, the answer is no.'
'That wouldn't be strictly necessary,' said Baxter. 'Narcissa, after all ...'
'Narcissa!' cried Harry, aghast. 'She's old enough to be my mother!'
'Don't be so dismissive, Potter,' said Yawton. 'A fine wine gets better with age.'
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. 'Even if Narcissa had offered, which she hasn't, my primary goal is to establish good relations with Draco, and shagging his mum is hardly the way to accomplish that!'
'Draco needn't find out,' said Baxter, 'but you've made your point.'
'Abbott, are you satisfied the Malfoys aren't manipulating me? I really don't want to lose Wednesday's vote.'
'I'll spread the word, but don't blow it with those reporters this morning. And try to act rationally on the radio. You will go on the radio this Tuesday, right?'
'Yes, definitely. Should I have Lee and George bring up the question of whether I'm off my rocker?'
Abbott and the others nodded. 'Everyone wants your vote to pass, except for a few curmudgeons who either hate you or the Malfoys. But be sure to get the Ministry appointees in line.'
'That's what I'm doing at lunch.' Harry took a deep breath and asked, 'Why can't I just be a Seeker?'
'Because you're the head of two houses,' replied Yawton. 'This is why you need Pratt's, because many of our members have similar responsibilities.'
'Right,' said Harry resignedly. 'Is there anything else, or may I finish eating?'
Dunston glanced at the other wizards, all of whom looked satisfied. 'Yes, please do. And feel free to disregard our letter when you receive it.'
The wizards left, and Harry closed his eyes and invited his Light magic to arise. Oh, yes, he thought, feeling much better. He cast a warming charm on his breakfast and allowed himself to glow while eating it, savouring the tastes and textures.
After dimming back to normal, he walked to the front desk and asked for directions to the Dapperling Tea Shop. 'It's near the Prophet building, but you can Floo there directly,' said the wizard.
That ought to surprise a few people, thought Harry mischievously as he approached the fireplace. 'Dapperling's,' he announced before stepping into the green flames.
After a short Floo journey, he found himself in a smoky but unusually well-lit bar. There was a din of conversation, but within seconds everyone was silent. 'Is Rita here?' he asked.
'Harry, darling!' she cried, waving him over to a large round booth in the far corner. 'What a lovely surprise!' She was with her usual photographer and several others, including a gangly-looking wizard in his twenties sitting next to her. 'Does your visit have anything to do with the emergency press release from the Cannons publicity department?'
'It does, in fact,' he replied jovially. 'May I ask what in Merlin's name you were thinking when you ran that photograph?'
'Weren't you pleased?' she asked, feigning astonishment. 'I thought you wanted to prevent the next war!'
'I do, but I didn't realise that required making me look like an exhibitionist.'
'I have bad news for you, dearie, but you are an exhibitionist. My colleagues spoke to some of the other diners, and apparently you did everything but get on your knees underneath the table.'
Maryann tried, but it was too cramped, recalled Harry. 'Fine, but that doesn't mean we wanted our photograph in the paper like that. I distinctly recall only holding Jocelyn's hand.'
'Damon, did you hear that?' called Rita to another reporter. 'You were right—the brunette's name is Jocelyn.'
Bugger! thought Harry. 'Leave her alone!' he ordered. 'She didn't ask for publicity.'
'Harry, darling, she's a C-squared—they live for publicity. The only reason they didn't provide their names last night was to generate an air of mystery. But Damon's publication is ideal for someone like her.'
'If you're talking about Busty and Bewitched, I may have to consider terminating our agreement,' warned Harry.
'Of course not! It's a brand new magazine aimed at wizards, called Wandlore.'
Something told Harry that Wandlore would not include a column by Garrick Ollivander. 'It's a wizarding lad mag, isn't it?'
'Well spotted! You've catalysed a previously unexploited demographic, and at least one publisher is cashing in.'
'Do you really think Jocelyn will want to appear in it?' he asked, even though he knew the answer.
'Yes, and her friend as well. Damon was tasked with finding a cover model for their inaugural issue, and he hit a roadblock when the Sorceress informant backed out at the last minute. But you've provided not one but two cover models, and they'll be an overnight sensation—pun intended. By this time next month, they'll be wizarding Britain's leading it-girls. Unless,' she added in a grave voice, 'they seemed upset this morning when they saw the photograph.'
Damon was listening intently. 'Er, not outwardly,' admitted Harry. 'But I can't read minds.'
'Don't worry,' said Damon. 'We give witches a full week to back out of a contract if they have second thoughts—that's what cost us your friend Vera.'
'I have no idea who you're talking about,' said Harry innocently. Turning back to Rita, he said, 'Fine, let's just say the witches didn't mind being photographed like that. But what about my reputation?'
Nearly everyone in the tea shop started laughing. 'Oh, honey,' said Rita patronisingly, 'your reputation is a smoking ruin—you've said it yourself. But do you have any idea how many people that photograph has already inspired to pursue the Light Arts? Ricard!' she shouted across the room. 'Tell Harry what you said when you saw it.'
'I said, "Someone needs to write the obituary for the Dark Arts in Britain, because as of this morning they're deader than You-Know-Who,"' replied the wizard.
'And the copy and layout editors both asked me how to get in touch with Davina Hampton,' added Rita. 'They sent their owls last night to beat the rush.'
'I'll admit that's a good outcome,' said Harry. 'But I demand that you or someone else at the Prophet write about how Light magic apparently affects photographs!'
'You demand?' she exclaimed, fanning herself. 'Clearly someone is of the dominant persuasion! No wonder you caught a Seer's inner eye before you were even born!'
'Rita,' said Harry sternly, 'will you write that article or should I find someone else?'
'Of course I'll write it. Have a seat and I'll interview you right now. It'll be instructive for my new protégé,' she said, indicating the young wizard sitting next to her. 'Harry, this is Timothy. Timothy, this is God's gift to Britain's news and gossip industry.'
Rita's companions made room for Harry but nobody left to give them privacy. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Harry,' said Timothy. 'Rita has been a fantastic instructor so far, but she didn't let me come to your interview on Tuesday, so this is a real treat.'
'Yes, Timothy is an eager little student ... positively voracious!' said Rita. 'So I'm delighted you've turned up for his further education. In fact, he's learnt loads from you already!'
Sweet Merlin, they're lovers! realised Harry. Stifling the mental image, he said, 'In the article, I'd also like for you to get the point across that Light magic only affects certain aspects of my behaviour and doesn't make me irrational across the board.'
'It certainly doesn't! You've become positively cunning of late, and it suits you perfectly. Rest assured, I'll make it clear that you're nobody's puppet.'
She set up her Quick Quotes Quill and interviewed him, carefully guiding him into providing quotes that supported the narrative. She occasionally explained her strategy to Timothy, who took notes of his own. Harry sipped tea as they worked together and he realised why the bar was well-lit, since many of the other reporters were working as well.
Fascinated, Harry watched Rita use her wand to rearrange quotes on a parchment. 'I'm assembling your story, darling. If you can stick around another half-hour, you'll see the final draft.'
He decided to wait, and various journalists introduced themselves, including Damon from Wandlore. 'We'd love to interview you sometime, since you're the ultimate embodiment of the Wandlore demographic,' he gushed. 'Young, fit, stylish, sexually adventurous, with disposable income, and unafraid to break a few rules. In fact, we have your photograph hanging in our main office, with the caption, "What would Harry Potter do?"'
'Don't put too much emphasis on me,' warned Harry. 'One of these days I'm bound to do something nobody likes.'
'We're not worried,' replied Damon. 'So far even your missteps have been fabulous. But please tell me you'll appear on the radio this Tuesday! All of us at the Dapperling were bereft when you didn't turn up last time. And I heard there was a minor riot in Azkaban.'
Harry's jaw dropped. 'They listen to Weasley's Wizard Wireless in Azkaban?'
'They listen to the radio all day,' said a grizzled-looking reporter named Vincent. 'Now that the Dementors are gone, the guards have to keep the prisoners occupied somehow.'
'Not the maximum security prisoners too?' asked Harry anxiously.
'Oh yes. They're much more docile that way.'
Harry blanched. 'Oh my god ... Dolores Umbridge has been listening to my broadcasts. Please tell me she doesn't have access to Howler stationery.'
'No, and all outbound post is screened for threats and coded messages. I've heard she writes to you constantly, but none of her letters have made it out.'
'That is truly horrifying,' said Harry. 'Does she have adherents within the prison?'
'No, she's an outcast,' replied Vincent. 'She's in maximum security with all the Death Eaters, and now that she's no longer useful they scorn her for having a Muggle mother.'
Harry sighed. 'She was horrible to me, and to heaps of other people, but I can't say I take any satisfaction in how things turned out for her. It sounds like she's completely miserable.'
Rita's ears pricked and she looked up at Harry. 'Don't tell me you want to help her somehow.'
'I don't see how I could, if she hates me.' Turning back to Vincent, he asked, 'Do you know whether they're plotting against me in Azkaban?'
'Of course they are. You killed You-Know-Who and ruined their lives. But not to worry—it's mainly the inner circle Death Eaters, and they're all sentenced to life without parole.'
'Mainly?' asked Harry, alarmed.
'Yes, there's a handful of others, but they craft plots against other celebrities as well. They're completely harmless, and their plots are mostly just a way to pass the time.'
Rita called Harry back to the table. 'Darling, have a look!' she said, handing him a parchment. The headline read, 'An Open Apology to Harry Potter.'
The Prophet editors hereby apologise to Chudley Cannons Seeker Harry Potter for unwittingly publishing an inaccurate photograph. We were unaware that Light magic can interfere with photographs, causing the pictured Light witch or wizard to behave differently to their real-life counterpart. The result was that yesterday's photograph of Potter and his two lovely companions inaccurately depicted his behaviour. Eyewitnesses confirm that Potter held hands with only one of the witches and did not kiss, grope, or otherwise pleasure her in front of the cameras.
'I was shocked when I saw this morning's Prophet,' said an understandably upset Potter on Sunday morning. 'I realise my behaviour inside the restaurant was inappropriate, and I apologise for that, but I certainly know better than to act that way while being photographed.'
Potter, who was bright-eyed and dressed becomingly in bottle-green robes, appeared invigorated after his nighttime activities. He said, 'I admit the photograph very accurately conveyed my aspirations for the evening, but surely I'm not the only wizard whose mind runs in that direction. And it clearly had something to do with my Light magic, since I was glowing very brightly when I left the restaurant.'
The Prophet spoke to an anonymous Unspeakable from the Department of Mysteries who confirmed that Light magic can radically affect how people behave in photographs. 'It's a well-known phenomenon, and newspaper editors in countries where the Light Arts are more common would have known better than to print a photograph of someone behaving inappropriately whilst glowing. But the Light Arts have long been dormant in Britain, so it's not surprising the Prophet editors were caught unawares.'
When asked whether Potter's overall judgment might be affected by his Light magic, the Unspeakable said, 'No, quite the opposite. On balance, Light magic has probably made Potter more rational—not less—because he is less vulnerable to afflictive emotions. The exception, however, is where attractive women are concerned, and of course Potter has a reputation in that department. But if you think about it, he's actually shown remarkable restraint. Light magic is clearly playing havoc with his impulses, as the photograph demonstrates, but he's largely behaved within normal boundaries for someone his age.'
With unusual candour, the Unspeakable added, 'Given Potter's Light magic and his access to willing partners, he's been a model of decorum for the last month. Someone with less self-discipline might have sought a new partner every night—such is the power of accidental Light magic, particularly in one so young. But Potter has been late for Quidditch practice only once, almost immediately after the onset of his Light magic, and even with yesterday's loss his record with the Cannons speaks for itself.'
Potter, by contrast, apologised profusely for his behaviour, in spite of his relative blamelessness. 'I'm so sorry if I brought unwanted attention to the two witches, whose names I'm obviously not going to share. They're both lovely people, and they only consented to appear in a normal photograph—and not a graphic depiction of my inner desires.'
When asked whether he regrets coming forward with his Light magic, Potter was adamant. 'No, not at all. Light magic is wonderful, and although the accidental phase has its challenges, it's far better than the alternative. And yes, I'd certainly have preferred not to spend all morning cleaning up the damage from one photograph, but I need only close my eyes and allow Light magic to settle my nerves.'
The Prophet hereby pledges to compare all new photographs of Potter with eyewitness accounts, to confirm that his Light magic hasn't affected his in-photo behaviour. Furthermore, we thank Potter for his forbearance as we learn about his new and exciting magical condition.
After reading the article, Harry looked at Rita in amusement. 'Is Timothy your anonymous Unspeakable?'
'That's what's so wonderful about the Department of Mysteries!' she said. 'I can attribute anything to an Unspeakable, and they'll never confirm or deny it.'
'And you don't think it's a bit much, praising my restraint and calling me a model of decorum?' he added with a smirk.
'That was the unvarnished truth as far as I'm concerned,' declared Rita. 'Have you ever been turned down in your romantic career?'
'Er, no—as long as you don't count witches like Ginny who eventually dumped me. Oh, and Cho Chang already had a date for the Yule Ball, but we went out a year later.'
'Those don't count,' said Rita. 'And how many propositions do you receive every week in care of the Cannons?'
'I don't actually know, since I don't personally review them.'
'My point exactly. I think everyone here will agree you've shown remarkable restraint. Am I right?' she asked the assembled crowd, and they nodded vigorously.
'Then I won't argue with you,' said Harry with satisfaction. 'But are you sure the Prophet editors won't mind your apologising on their behalf?'
'Let me put it this way, darling. All they care about is profits—full stop. We've had more new subscriptions and fewer cancellations in the last two months than in decades. Furthermore, we can charge double for advertisements that appear on the same page as an article about you—why do you think we pad them out with so many photographs?'
'But aren't people complaining about this morning's issue?' asked Harry. 'The portraits you took on Tuesday were bad enough, but last night's photo is borderline pornographic.'
'We received Howlers, of course, and any number of declarations of outrage. But zero cancellations, and at least a dozen requests for reprints. Remember what I told you: Sex sells, Harry Potter sells, and Harry Potter having sex sells better than anything.'
Harry shook his head and sighed. 'You're lucky I don't have parents to complain.' Looking at his pocket watch, he said, 'It's time for my next round of damage control. Nothing personal, but let's try not to see each other until at least Wednesday.'
'Of course, darling. I'll just have to occupy myself some other way,' she said, with a leer at Timothy. 'Ta ta!'
The small crowd of reporters parted to allow Harry to pass, and he returned to Grimmauld Place to prepare for lunch with Kingsley Shacklebolt. A peek into his bedroom confirmed that his guests had gone, but Harry rolled his eyes when he saw what Kreacher had done in his absence. 'Kreacher!' he said aloud.
Crack! 'Yes, Master!'
'Why are there Slytherin hangings in my bedroom?'
Kreacher straightened with pride. 'Yesterday Kreacher overheard Master telling Ron Weasley that Master was Sorted into Slytherin. And this morning Kreacher saw that Master slept in Master Regulus's room, and Kreacher assumed that was because it was appropriately decorated.'
'That was very thoughtful, Kreacher, but that's not why I slept in Regulus's room. Would you please restore my bedroom to normal?'
'Yes, Master,' said Kreacher glumly. 'Will Master also require Kreacher to change back all of Master's undergarments and handkerchiefs?'
Harry opened his top drawer and saw that his boxers, vests, socks, and handkerchiefs now sported an embroidered Slytherin crest. That's actually pretty funny, he thought. 'Please change the socks and vests back to normal, but leave the rest,' he said, tucking a handkerchief into his pocket. 'And thank you.'
He went downstairs to await Kingsley Shacklebolt at the fireplace. 'Detach wallpaper,' he said, not wanting to alarm the former Order of the Phoenix member with too many changes at once. Kingsley arrived soon after, and he greeted Harry with a fatherly hug.
'It's been far too long,' said Kingsley. 'But I'm delighted to see you. How are you doing?'
Harry appreciated that Kingsley hadn't immediately started scolding him. 'I'm well, thanks, although I've spent all morning on damage control.'
'Is that what this is?'
'That wasn't my intention when I invited you, but I should probably explain the picture from last night.' Harry told him how his Light magic had interfered with the photograph, displaying his intentions rather than his literal actions, and Kingsley guffawed.
'As much as I miss having you in the department, I'm glad it's not my job to clean up after you. That is, assuming you'd have behaved similarly if you'd remained an Auror rather than joining the Cannons in search of "pudding."'
'You just had to bring that up, didn't you?' laughed Harry.
'I'm reminded of it several times a week,' he replied. Peering towards the entrance hall, he added, 'I need to see with my own eyes that Walburga is really gone.'
They went there together, and Padfoot leapt from the otherwise unoccupied dog bed and greeted Kingsley enthusiastically. 'Marvellous!' exclaimed Kingsley. 'What an improvement! But why are there feathers stuck to his coat?'
Padfoot, you devil! thought Harry, recalling the Hippogriff. 'Er, he gets into a lot of mischief on his own.'
'Well, I'm glad you at least have an echo of Sirius. I'm only sorry he didn't get to see how well you've turned out.'
'Do you really think so?' asked Harry. 'Arthur Weasley gave me a stern lecture last weekend about how I shouldn't have left the Ministry, and he said you were disappointed with me as well.'
'I was disappointed you left, but I certainly respected your decision. And from what I can tell, you're no longer under the cloud of grief that's followed you for years.'
Harry frowned. 'Perhaps, but's not as if I've forgotten everyone,' he said a little defensively.
'I wasn't criticising you. Acute grief isn't healthy in large doses. And once healing occurs, you're able to remember the people you've lost without feeling crushed by their absence.'
Harry nodded, 'Yeah, that sounds accurate. I think about our old friends all the time—I even pretend they're in the stands at Quidditch matches holding cheeky banners. But I don't actively mourn them any longer. Although ...' he began uncertainly.
'Yes?'
'I seldom think about my parents,' he admitted. 'I have so few memories of them, and none are first-hand, other than what I saw through the Resurrection Stone. I'm starting to fear I'm not even a Potter anymore.' He told Kingsley what the Marauder's Map had called him.
'To anyone who ever saw your father, you're clearly a Potter. And you never met your grandfather, but you're turning out very like him as well, in character more than anything. He was very ambitious, you know—apparently his mates used to joke that he was Sorted into the wrong house.'
'Yes, about that,' continued Harry, pulling out the handkerchief. 'I was at Hogwarts on Thursday and the Hat reassigned me.'
Kingsley laughed again. 'It's a good thing you're a Light wizard, or else we might need to put a task force on you. Bode made noises to that effect when it came out you were advocating for Draco Malfoy.'
'That's the main reason I wanted to talk to you, actually. But let's sit down.' He led Kingsley to the kitchen, suspecting he'd prefer the room they'd all used during the war. 'Do you understand why I'm pushing for Malfoy's early release?'
'You're not just pushing for it—you're putting your neck on the line. And you should know Bode won't go easy on you if Malfoy breaks the law.'
'He won't break the law,' said Harry firmly, and he described the protections he'd arranged, including the part involving Draco's wand and Dark Mark.
'Great Godric! You healed a Dark Mark?!' Harry nodded, and Kingsley said, 'I wouldn't have thought it possible! But then again, this is you we're talking about.'
'It was Light magic, not me, and I really don't think it needs to be as rare as people think it is. That's a big part of why I went public, to encourage people to try it for themselves.'
'They definitely will, based on what I'm hearing. Auror Woodbridge already owled me asking if we can bring you in as a consultant, for training purposes.'
Harry rolled his eyes, recalling the trainer who'd always fawned over him. 'I'll come if Auror Murdoch requests it, which we know will never happen.'
'No, he wasn't sorry to see the back of you,' said Kingsley. 'I think he resented that you weren't able to end the war earlier—he lost his son, you know.'
Harry's face fell. 'I didn't know that. And I'm sorry—I must have been a real thorn in his side.'
'You can't make everyone happy, as I'm sure you've already noticed. But back to Malfoy, the protections you've described are perfect—better than I could have hoped for. If he can't perform Dark magic until next July, there's no risk he'll break any significant laws. And I'll personally celebrate if you make off with their fortune.'
'Be careful, I had to swear under Veritaserum this wasn't a trick.'
'You've really grown fond of the stuff, haven't you?' smirked Kingsley.
Kreacher brought them lunch, and they continued their conversation. 'Do you have a sense of how the Ministry appointees will vote on Wednesday?' asked Harry.
'You won't have Bode's vote, and he's convinced several of his allies to oppose you as well.'
'What about you? I won't necessarily need your vote, since things look good with the hereditary members, but I'd definitely appreciate it.'
'I'll vote with you, and Bode will just have to deal with it. It's not Draco's fault that Lucius Imperiused Bode's brother, and you're absolutely right to try to prevent him from following in his father's footsteps.'
'Could I ask you to try to persuade the other Ministry appointees? I know you don't owe me a favour, but perhaps I can owe you one going forward.'
'Harry, I'll be indebted to you for the rest of my life,' said Kingsley sincerely. 'And I'll be glad to call in a few favours to get people to vote with you, although I don't think it'll be necessary.'
'Thank you—that's a relief. I was awakened this morning by the Malfoys' hawk and had to hurry over to reassure them.'
'Did you at least shower first?' asked Kingsley with a wink.
'Yes, and you're not the first person to ask me that.'
The subject turned to Light magic, and Kingsley looked at Harry intently. 'I know it has a steep learning curve and that even Dumbledore couldn't get anywhere with it, but do you think Aurors could learn to perform Light magic?'
'I honestly don't know. According to Davina, anyone can learn it, as long as they don't have a pile of Horcruxes stashed somewhere, but it's not easy if your main goal is to use it in battle.'
'Why do you think that is?'
Harry closed his eyes to consider the question, and he felt his Light magic stir. 'Intent. I think the only way you could successfully disarm an opponent is to love them first. And not just a little, but enough that you'd be willing to risk your own life to stop them from splintering their soul with Dark magic.' He opened his eyes and saw that his hands were glowing. 'Without realising it, I performed Light magic when I sacrificed my life that night. That's why none of Voldemort's curses worked against us. And, come to think of it, I suspect the only reason his wand didn't snap is because I was its true master.'
Kingsley was staring at Harry's hands. 'And you can play Quidditch like this?'
'Yes, I was glowing for nearly an hour during yesterday's match—that's how I survived Allie Hobbs and the Harpyheads. But I didn't glow brightly until the final chase.'
'Can you show me the full display?' asked Kingsley, still in awe.
With only a hint of effort, Harry allowed Light magic to flow through him completely, and the kitchen was flooded with light.
'Remarkable! And you didn't even use your wand.'
'No, the only time I've used a wand for Light magic was when I transferred Draco Malfoy's wand back to him. And the Patronus Charm of course.'
Kingsley shook his head in amazement. 'I don't care if it's difficult—Aurors need to learn this,' he declared. 'Even if only one in ten can do it, they'd be invaluable during a confrontation.'
'Have you contacted Davina?' asked Harry. 'I'm sure she's being swamped, but I'll put in a good word when I see her tomorrow.'
'Yes, I owled her this morning, and I'd appreciate that.'
Their conversation drifted to Quidditch, and Harry's glow gradually subsided. 'Would you and your family like to attend the next match? We're playing against Pride of Portree, at Chudley Stadium.' Kingsley happily accepted, and Harry added, 'I should warn you that I'm planning to offer tickets to Draco Malfoy as well, assuming he's released on Wednesday. But I can arrange to have you seated in different sections.'
'That sounds prudent,' said Kingsley. 'But are you really pursuing a friendship with him?'
'Friendship is a strong word—obviously we'll never be close the way Ron and I are. But we have more in common than you'd think, as far as Voldemort is concerned, and I truly believe we could have something at least bordering on friendship.' Harry took a deep breath and said, 'Another thing that might help is that I've joined Pratt's.'
Kingsley looked at him in plain disbelief. 'You really are a Slytherin! Who convinced you to do that?'
'Believe it or not, the deciding vote came from George Weasley.' Harry explained his thought process, and Kingsley grudgingly agreed it was sound.
'But Harry, be careful. Pratt's is the epicentre of corruption in wizarding Britain.'
'Is that why you never joined?'
'In part, but also because no one who works for the Ministry should be able to afford the dues, unless he has an inheritance. More than one wizard offered to subsidise my membership, but obviously they'd want something in return. So no, I don't anticipate joining.'
Harry let the subject drop, not fancying a lecture on the evils of bribing Ministry officials. I wonder whether George and Percy have made progress on the condom scheme, he thought idly.
After finishing lunch and making one more joke about 'pudding,' Kingsley said, 'Honestly, Harry, I think you've handled things incredibly well. You've endured a tremendous amount of scrutiny, particularly regarding your childhood, and yet your biggest outburst was to punch Andrew Gilstrap—who by all accounts deserved it. Six months ago you wouldn't have been able to take so many things in stride. Three months, even.'
'You're probably right,' said Harry. 'Just this morning I was able to talk calmly with Rita Skeeter about that photograph, which barely upset me in the first place, even though it should have done. I'm convinced that daily flying is what's made the difference, and Light magic of course.'
Kingsley nodded and said, 'As much as I'd love to have a Light wizard wearing Auror robes, I'm glad you found a career that suits you so well. But keep us in mind if you decide you've had enough Bludgers for one lifetime.'
They said goodbye in front of the kitchen fireplace, and afterwards Harry drifted to the sitting room for his first moment of calm since the Malfoys' hawk had awakened him. But then Kreacher appeared.
'Master received several letters during lunch,' said the elf, handing Harry a small pile.
'Of course I did,' he replied. 'Thank you, Kreacher.' Crack!
One was from Blaise, announcing that he was back from Rome and would love to talk at Harry's earliest convenience about the business he was starting. Harry had to remind himself that he was no longer upset with Blaise, and he resolved to send a reply. But not now, he thought wearily.
The next letter was from Hermione:
Dear Harry,
Not wanting to intrude, I decided against sending my otter this morning, but I'm concerned about the photograph in today's Prophet. I assume you didn't actually grope those women in front of the camera, in which case your Light magic must somehow interfere with magical photography. How odd that it didn't occur in the interview photos, although I suppose you didn't want to grope Rita Skeeter.
Please let me know if you need my help with damage control. I imagine you've already spoken to the Malfoys, whom I'd prefer not to visit, and I suspect you've also been to Pratt's. On that note, I should remind you that there are wizarding schools in Great Britain other than Hogwarts. But I'd be glad to talk to the Weasleys or Minerva on your behalf, or anyone else you can think of.
Please send Prongs if you need anything, otherwise I'll see you tomorrow before our lesson.
Love,
Hermione
Harry felt his tension unwind as he read Hermione's letter. At least someone didn't assume I'm a raging exhibitionist. He cast the Patronus Charm and told Prongs to say, 'Hermione, I can't tell you how much I appreciate that you gave me the benefit of the doubt. Yes, I spent all morning reassuring people I'm not hopelessly indiscreet, and Rita has already drafted a follow-up piece that completely absolves me. But I'd be grateful if you could tell Minerva, Arthur and Molly, and Bill and Fleur.'
Nearly five minutes later, her otter arrived and said, 'I'll get right to it. And you sound tired, so get some rest!'
If only, he thought, seeing letters from Arthur, Minerva, and the Pratt's executive committee. He skimmed the letters from Arthur and Minerva and was relieved that Hermione would calm them down. And although he'd been instructed to disregard the Pratt's letter, he wrote a short note in reply:
I hope I successfully addressed your concerns this morning, but there's another important matter we need to discuss. Normally I'd explain it in a letter, but that's not possible for reasons you'll understand later. Please provide a non-Pratt's mailing address so I can tell you more about it.
He also dashed off a letter to the Malfoys, assuring them that everything still looked good for Wednesday. That's it, he thought as he sent his letters off with the jackdaws. No more interaction until tomorrow morning. With a sigh of relief, he settled on the sofa with a cup of tea and his copy of Great Expectations, and he barely moved for the rest of the afternoon.
