The morning Prophet was full of Harry from start to finish. Draco's release—and Harry's role in securing it—made the front page, along with a photo of Narcissa hugging Harry in the Atrium. The article emphasised their family relationship and suggested that Sirius had unwittingly sown peace by uniting Harry and the Malfoys. And to Harry's relief, the Prophet made no insinuations about Narcissa and himself, which he knew Rita was fully capable of doing.
There was also an article about how investigators had been unable to identify the wizard who'd attempted Legilimency on him during the broadcast. Numerous witnesses had offered their memories, but it seemed likely the wizard had disguised himself using Polyjuice Potion. That would explain his height, thought Harry, who was curious but not particularly worried.
He turned to the letters section, where 'Mothers For Harry Potter' were prominently featured. Lucinda's letter was signed by half a dozen witches, including Molly Weasley, Octavia Wind, and, to Harry's surprise, Augusta Longbottom. I should thank them, he thought, and he resolved to visit Mrs Thwip before practice that morning.
Next, the gossip column announced that 'a top-tier celebrity' was expected 'to light up' a wizarding dance club called Stardust that night, along with a large retinue. Harry's name wasn't revealed, but the column dropped broad hints involving boxer shorts, flowers, and a mysterious girlfriend whom he wasn't dating exclusively. 'He is by no means averse to entertaining multiple witches at once, so aspirants to his enormous bed are encouraged to make an appearance. Furthermore, wizards are invited to tenderly console those not selected for the main event.'
Harry stared at the newspaper in shock. Setting aside the fact that he didn't intend to go home with anyone except Alex, he was appalled by the suggestion that he was going to choose amongst club-goers 'like a creepy count,' as Darren had once phrased it. He was tempted to owl Narcissa an explanation, but he knew that constantly reassuring her was a losing battle. Nevertheless, he dashed off a note to Andromeda, knowing she'd relay the contents to her sister, and had Kreacher deliver it.
Kreacher returned with Andromeda's reply, in which she thanked him for setting the record straight. 'I'll let Narcissa know, although she mightn't even have noticed, since she's still on cloud nine about Draco. But perhaps we'll meet Alex on Sunday?' She was referring to their tea at Grimmauld Place with the other members of the Black family. Harry hoped Alex would be willing to meet Andromeda, not least because she was clever and would surely reflect well on him.
Finally there was an article in the sport news about how he'd been observed using different brooms. They correctly surmised that he was experimenting with the Firebolt in an attempt to boost his speed, but his switch back to the Silver Arrow seemed to confirm that he still preferred it. 'When Potter eagerly touted the Silver Arrow after being given a Firebolt Ultra the year before, he all but announced that the Firebolt was the inferior broom. At the time, Firebolt released a statement calling broomstick preferences "highly subjective," and emphasising that there were "no hard feelings" over Potter's choice. But a source close to Randolph Spudmore told the Prophet that the reclusive broom maker was "livid" that Potter had spurned his creation and that Spudmore had "lost respect" for the Cannons Seeker.'
Harry felt terrible, although he wasn't sure what he could have done differently. Ironically, he now wanted desperately to use the Firebolt Ultra, but until Spudmore was willing to talk he was stuck with the Silver Arrow.
Between the gossip column and the quotes from Spudmore, Harry was in low spirits when he arrived at practice. 'Why the long face, Snitchbottom?' asked Janet. 'Not enough press coverage this morning?'
'Very funny. No, I just get tired of always having to put out some new fire.'
'Are you talking about how you're going to a nightclub tonight with a clipboard and callipers to pick out the most nubile bedmate? Or the bit where you said Randolph Spudmore is a gormless idiot and you could shit out a better broomstick than the Firebolt Ultra?'
Harry couldn't help laughing. 'I can always count on you to paint a picture. And yes, those are the fires I'm talking about.'
'Don't give them a second thought. You can clean it all up on the radio next week, same as every other week.'
'So that's a standing commitment now? Won't I ever stop screwing up, or leaving disaster in my wake?'
'How exactly did you screw up? This is just the usual bollocks surrounding you, and it'll blow over as always.'
'I guess. But it's pretty bloody frustrating that no matter what I do, it'll get misinterpreted one way or another.'
'Sorry, that's just the price you pay.'
'The price I pay? For what?'
'For being Harry fucking Potter,' said Janet. 'You get to be the league's best Seeker, and Saviour of the Wizarding World, and a legendary shagmonster, but you also get a heaping scoop of pain-in-the-arse.'
Furrowing his brow, Harry asked, 'Does "heaping scoop of pain-in-the-arse" include dead parents and abusive relations?'
'No, that's separate. I'm referring to things like hideous family rings and misbehaving photographs and your completely mental house-elf. They're the price you pay.'
'Got it.' He was silent for a moment and then said, 'That doesn't help. I'm still irritated.'
Janet rolled her eyes. 'I don't know, then glow or something. Or get up on a broomstick—I've heard they're fun.'
Harry glared at her and walked to Mrs Thwip's office. 'Good morning, Mrs Thwip,' he said tentatively.
'Good morning, Mr Potter.' Her tone was less frosty than on Monday but far from warm. 'Is there something you require?'
'Er, I replied to more fan mail,' he said, pulling a stack from his pouch. 'And I'm also hoping you can send some personal letters on my behalf.'
'Of course, Mr Potter. That's my job.'
Did she put special emphasis on the word 'job?' he wondered. And does that mean she's planning to quit? 'Er, am I in trouble about the item in the gossip column, about the nightclub? It wasn't accurate.'
'That's not my concern, Mr Potter. Shall I take dictation for those letters?'
He dictated a thank-you note for everyone who signed the 'Mothers For Harry Potter' letter and promised to sign them before lunch. But Mrs Thwip was still making him nervous. 'Have I done something wrong?' he asked.
'You compromised your own safety for that young man!'
'Do you mean Draco Malfoy?'
'Yes. You should know from looking in the mirror that nineteen year-old boys aren't to be trusted, and yet you've endangered your life and your freedom for one of them.'
Harry's tension eased. I thought she was angry at me, but she's just worried. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Thwip—I should have warned you. But there's really no need for concern. I have ironclad assurances that Draco won't commit a crime.'
'There's no such thing as "ironclad,"' she warned.
'Then these are the next best thing.' Looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening, he said, 'Do you want to know what they are? I'm sure you won't tell anyone.'
'Of course not, Mr Potter.'
He leaned over her desk and told her about the civil contract and also the blood oath. Afterwards, her jaw relaxed just a bit.
'Yes, those are the next best thing. Thank you for telling me.' She was quiet for a moment, and her expression was more tender than he could recall seeing before, but then it returned to normal. 'You received a new business proposition,' she said, handing him a folder.
'Don't you have a form response?' he asked, taking it from her.
'Perhaps you should read it first.'
He opened the folder and read:
Dear Mr Potter,
I represent a clothing manufacturer called CDR Enterprises. You probably haven't heard of us, but you're almost certainly familiar with our merchandise, as we supply numerous wizarding clothiers with men's undergarments. Benedict Thimble, for example, carries our vests, boxer shorts, and Y-fronts.
If you've visited any Muggle men's shops, you're probably aware that they have a far wider selection of underwear than wizarding shops do. We believe this disparity represents a tremendous business opportunity, which we hope you'll find interesting.
As with any new product or market sector, the primary way to generate demand is through advertising. We therefore ask you to consider representing our yet-unnamed product line as both model and spokesman. Amongst other things, this would involve appearing in our advertisements wearing only our products, which admittedly would challenge wizarding norms but has long been accepted in Muggle society.
We are aware of your reluctance to promote merchandise, and obviously this would be far more provocative than your current endorsements. However, we're prepared to offer not only modelling fees but also a share in the profits. This arrangement is virtually unheard-of in the modelling world, except at the tier Muggles refer to as 'supermodels.' I should add that Britain would only be our initial market, as we believe our products and your image have worldwide appeal.
If we've piqued your curiosity, please reply at your earliest convenience and we'll provide more details. And I urge you to do so, as even our most conservative projected earnings are, to put it bluntly, staggering.
Yours sincerely,
Dominic Runnion
CDR Enterprises
Harry ran a hand through his hair in disbelief. 'They want me to be an underwear model?'
'So it seems, Mr Potter. How should I proceed?'
'I can scarcely wrap my brain around it,' he said. 'My instinct is to refuse, of course.'
'Shall I do that then?'
He was about to say yes, when a small part of his mind wondered just how much money Dominic was talking about. 'Not yet,' he said sheepishly. 'May I have a copy of the letter? I'd like to run it past a few people.'
'Of course,' she said, duplicating it with her wand.
He tucked the letter into his pocket. 'Thank you, Mrs Thwip. As always.'
'You're welcome, Mr Potter.'
He had only a few minutes to dash into the locker room and join his teammates near the benches, where Tuttle glared at him before starting her lecture. 'Potter, I didn't give you a hard time about missing practice yesterday morning because you had a good excuse. But make no mistake—if you turn up even a second late tomorrow morning and don't give me top performance, I'm putting in Rees on Saturday. Unless she turns up late too. Do you understand?'
He nodded, and she continued. 'You've all done a good job adjusting to our celebrity Seeker, but that doesn't mean you're immune to temptation. So if any of you misbehave in public and then play poorly on Saturday, the fans will know exactly what happened. Fortunately, we've a strong set of reserves who are eager for a pay rise, which means the Cannons will be just fine if you decide to torch your career by living the high life.'
She looked straight at Darren. 'Rogers, you haven't let me down lately, but I have a long memory. Do we agree that the team comes first?'
'We do,' said Darren confidently.
'All right, then. Fifteen laps.'
Darren found Harry and said, 'That went better than I expected. Are you ready for tonight?'
'No,' said Harry, trotting alongside him. 'Apparently I'm to assemble a retinue.'
'Right, Fenella says you can get fifteen people in for free, including you and Alex.'
'What about you, Jocelyn, and Maryann?'
'We're already covered. You and Alex get free drinks, but your mates will have to pay. And there's a VIP section, for when you want to get away from the crowds.'
'Sounds good—I'll have Lara owl some of my mates. But who do I blame about that item in the gossip column?'
'What's the big deal? Do you want a crowd or not?'
'I do want a crowd, but not a bunch of witches getting all Romilda on me.'
'Don't worry—just snog Alex for a bit and they'll get the hint.'
After their laps and calisthenics, Harry approached Bruce. 'Any word yet from Spudmore?'
'Not a peep, and apparently his publicity team is furious with him. They're dying to get you back onto a Firebolt, but Spudmore won't budge.'
'Why is he being so petty? You'd think he'd want to hear me grovel.'
'You would think that, but rumour is he took it hard when everyone didn't fall in love with the Firebolt Ultra like they did with the original model, since he considered it a huge improvement.'
'It is, once you get past the learning curve.' Harry sighed. 'So where does this leave me?'
'Our next step is to bring in a league referee and show them what's happening, to see if it's a violation.'
Harry's eyes widened. 'Could that get Spudmore into trouble?'
'I doubt it, since there haven't been any other reports of the Firebolt Ultra behaving weirdly. But if it has something to do with your Light magic, then the league has the power to forbid only you from using it.'
Harry nodded glumly. 'When can you get a referee here?'
'They'll observe this afternoon's practice match.'
'Nice.' said Harry. I can try out that reverse Plocking manoeuvre, he thought with anticipation.
All of Harry's teammates joined him for lunch at Grimmauld Place, and he showed a few of them the letter from Dominic Runnion. 'Oh my god, you have to do this!' exclaimed Janet.
'She's right,' said Suresh. 'Wizarding adverts are way behind the times when it comes to male nudity, and you need to change that.'
'You're kidding, right? I can't possibly appear in an underwear advert.'
'No, you definitely can't,' said Ryan. 'You're a Head of House and you want to push legislation in the Wizengamot. Darren could get away with it, but you can't.'
'Killjoy!' scowled Janet. 'And you're wrong—the rules don't apply to Lord Snitchbottom.'
'Yes, they do,' said Titus. 'You can't do it, Harry.'
'I know,' he said. 'I'm just under a lot of pressure to rebuild the Black finances, and I didn't want to dismiss it out of hand.'
Gary was reading the letter. 'What about foreign adverts?'
'Foreign adverts?'
Gemma's eyes shot open. 'He's right! A-list film stars who would never appear in adverts at home make a fortune flogging shit in Japan.'
'Is there a large magical population in Japan?' asked Gary.
'It's huge,' said Suresh. 'At least twice the size of wizarding Britain.'
'I suppose a Japanese advert wouldn't be too bad,' mused Harry. 'Have they heard of me over there?'
'Of course they have,' said Janet. 'And besides, you're an Englishman with spiky hair and big green eyes—you were made for Japan.'
Harry looked at Ryan for confirmation. 'I suspect you could get away with it,' said Ryan, 'as long as you don't do it here, or some other English-speaking country.'
'What about the Continent?' asked Gemma.
'No, too close,' said Titus. 'Japan's his best bet.'
'But what if people here find out?' asked Harry, frowning. 'There have to be British wizards with friends or relations in Japan.'
'Of course there are. But as long as you're not doing anything pornographic in the adverts, they can't be worse than that photo with the two witches.'
'Actually, that's an important point,' said Ryan. 'These would be wizarding photographs, not Muggle. So you'd have to be careful not to do anything too provocative.'
'He'll be wearing nothing but Y-fronts,' said Gemma. 'That's provocative by definition.'
'No, there's a fine line,' said Suresh. 'I'm something of a connoisseur when it comes to men's underwear adverts, and some are more porno-y than others. It's all in the facial expression.'
'Harry, do you reckon you can turn off your bedroom eyes for ten minutes?' asked Janet.
'I do not have bedroom eyes!'
'You do when your Light magic is flowing,' said Renée. 'And I'm sure they'll want you to glow in the pictures.'
'Bugger, you're right,' said Harry. 'This can't possibly work.'
'Just write back and tell them you're willing to hear their proposal for Japan,' said Darren. 'You can worry about how your picture behaves later.'
That afternoon two referees observed Harry on the Firebolt Ultra, which behaved erratically when Harry started to glow. 'No, definitely not,' said the senior referee, Serena Flyte. 'Potter's Light magic in combination with the broom gives him an unfair advantage.'
'What about his Light magic in general?' asked Tuttle.
'We had a meeting about that on Monday,' said Flyte, 'and it turns out there's league precedent for Light Arts practitioners. It does appear to provide an advantage in a chase, but as long as the player doesn't use his or her wand it's not a violation. But if Potter flew on the Firebolt Ultra, it would be considered an illegally charmed object because of how it interacts with his magic.'
'Maybe my accidental magic is the problem,' suggested Harry. 'Once I get past this phase, would you be willing to reconsider?'
'Yes. But any irregular behaviour by your broomstick would be considered a violation.'
Harry was disappointed but not surprised, and the good news was that they didn't give him a foul for his reverse Plock. 'But don't try that next season,' Flyte warned him. 'There's already draft language making it a foul for Seekers to deliberately fly through the rings. The only reason it's currently permitted is because the Snitch occasionally turns up there, but you abused a loophole. So they're going to make it a foul when it's obviously a feint.'
'Will you call it Plocking?' asked Gemma hopefully.
'I'm not permitted to say,' she said stiffly, but then she winked.
'You're not going to start penalising Seekers for Blatching, are you?' asked Owen.
'No, as long as you don't deliberately crash into anyone.'
'That's fortunate,' said Gemma, 'otherwise Lord Blatch over here would be out of a job.'
Harry greeted Alex at Grimmauld Place an hour later, and she nodded approvingly at his outfit. 'Not just a foulard, but a floral shirt! With any luck, American wizards will start dressing like this as well.'
'Would Rocky wear a floral shirt?' he asked.
'Yes, in a heartbeat. He's a dandy too, you know.'
'Is he? Then I suppose you have a type.'
'Apparently I do. I haven't figured out what yours is yet, but I'm sure I'll find out tonight when you audition our plus-one.'
Harry's face fell. 'I hope you didn't take that seriously.'
'No, I didn't. From what I can tell, you rather enjoy my undivided attention.'
'I love it,' he said, gazing longingly at her. 'It's probably dead-mum trauma, but I don't care.'
After an enjoyable interval on the sofa, they decided to go to a pub again for dinner. Harry protested, not wanting people to think he didn't like her enough to take her somewhere nicer, but Alex just laughed. 'It probably reflects better on me if you don't take me to posh restaurants, since I won't look like a gold-digger.'
'I'm afraid you've perfectly described Jocelyn and Maryann. Speaking of which, you'll meet them tonight.'
'Oh dear, they'll probably be appalled I'm not more glamorous.'
'What are you talking about? You look like you belong in a Muggle painting, like the ones I saw at the Musée d'Orsay.'
She smiled. 'Not every witch would consider that a compliment.'
'That's because they're ignorant. Muggle paintings are much more beautiful, precisely because the subjects don't move or talk. Wizarding portraits are hardly better than the telly.'
They went to a pub near the nightclub, and the older patrons stared at Harry's outfit. 'What in Merlin's name are you wearing?' exclaimed an elderly wizard. 'Is that Muggle women's clothing?'
'No,' replied Alex. 'Muggle men dress this way. Very stylish Muggle men.'
The wizard frowned. 'Now I've seen everything,' he said, shaking his head.
Harry and Alex found a secluded table and ordered drinks. 'That was an inauspicious debut for my foulard,' he said. 'I hope Madam Rosmerta didn't buy too many for the Hogsmeade weekend.'
'That wizard isn't her target audience,' said Alex. 'I can guarantee the students will love them. In fact, it's probably better if old people don't approve.'
'Good point. I guess I'll wait a little longer before Apparating home and changing.'
They were amused to see a steady stream of elderly bar patrons sneaking past their table to peek at Harry's outfit, including one who Disillusioned herself poorly and got within a foot of him for a closer look. 'You've at least made a splash,' said Alex. 'But the nightclub will be the real test.'
After eating, they arrived at the club, which already had a long queue out front. He attracted attention, of course, and he was self-aware enough to realise he enjoyed it—temporarily. But then it felt intrusive, and he was relieved when the doorman ushered them inside.
The club was noisy and crowded, and Harry wished he and Alex could disappear somehow, but no such luck. Their arrival drew stares, first at him and then at Alex, who looked flustered by all the attention. 'Are you all right?' he said into her ear.
'Yes, but I can't decide whether to hide under your Invisibility Cloak or have you snog the hell out of me to prove I'm the one you want.'
'I know which one I'd prefer,' he said, kissing her tenderly. 'But let's save the snogging for later—I want you to meet my friends.'
He led her by the hand towards a large alcove that appeared less crowded. A witch with a clipboard allowed them past a velvet rope, and Harry felt Alex relax. 'The broadcast on Tuesday wasn't so bad, but that was a nightmare! I could practically hear everyone asking "What does he see in her?"'
'Darling, I'm sorry. Honestly, I didn't hear anyone say that, so it's probably your imagination.'
'Perhaps you're right,' she admitted, and he gave her another kiss for good measure.
'Look, there's Hermione,' he said, tugging Alex's hand. Hermione was talking with a young witch who looked familiar but whom Harry had never met. 'Hermione, I'm so glad you could make it. Where's Ryan?'
'He's talking to the disc jockey. Apparently the publicist ordered him to play the same music as at your parties, so there's a knowledge transfer occurring right now. But what are you wearing? Did you get those in France?'
'Yes, and Alex made me wear them. Please tell me now if I've made a grave mistake.'
'No, I love it!' she said. 'You're really putting your swagger to good use.' She turned to Alex and said, 'But forgive me for ignoring you—I'm Hermione Granger, and clearly you're Alex.'
The two women began to chat, and Harry introduced himself to Hermione's companion, a friend of Ryan's named Annie. But soon other people appeared.
'Harry!' cried Neville, who was red-faced and perspiring. 'This is brilliant! Hannah and I got here early and have been dancing for ages already.' He looked around and said, 'Luna's here too, but I haven't seen her lately.'
Gemma and her mate Caroline arrived, and Ron and Janet turned up as well. 'Flowers and a scarf!' cried Janet. 'You've outdone yourself yet again!'
'It is all right?' asked Harry nervously.
'It's fantastic—they'll love it in Japan! Promise me you'll wear the scarf in your adverts.'
'Adverts?' asked Alex.
'I'll explain later,' said Harry, embarrassed. 'Ron, I'm glad you could make it.'
'Yeah, but not for long. Murdoch assigned me pre-dawn surveillance tomorrow, almost certainly to prevent me from hobnobbing with you.'
'Have you and I ever hobnobbed?' asked Harry. 'And what does that even mean?'
Janet said, 'Murdoch is afraid Ron will be lured into your celebrity lifestyle and quit the Department. I'm sure they've pegged him as a potential Light wizard, and they want to keep him on staff.'
'Then they can give me a bloody pay rise. Harry, did you really invite Malfoy?'
'Yes. Is he here yet?'
'No, but I saw his name on the list, along with Pansy Parkinson. Blimey!'
'Harry!' cried Darren. 'There you are! Have you been on the dance floor yet?'
Darren arrived with Jocelyn and Maryann in tow, and before Harry could reply the two witches were upon him. 'You naughty, naughty boy!' scolded Maryann. 'That photograph of yours needs a good spanking!'
'Er, this is my girlfriend, Alex,' said Harry, drawing her close. 'Alex, this is Maryann and Jocelyn.'
Awkward greetings followed, and Harry saw the two witches size Alex up and exchange glances. Alex suddenly looked younger and less confident, so Harry asked if she wanted to dance.
'I'd love to,' she said, and he led her to the floor.
At first they danced without touching, but too many witches attempted to come between them, so they either maintained contact or danced so near to each other that no one could step in. Unsurprisingly, this led to snogging, which eventually discouraged the other witches.
'Do I finally have you to myself?' asked Alex, after they got through a song without interruption.
'Or vice versa,' he said. 'You probably haven't noticed how the other wizards are looking at you.'
'Are you jealous?' she asked saucily.
'Yes, but of Rocky. If only you'd attended Hogwarts and I'd met you first.'
She looked around and said, 'If these witches had any idea how intensely romantic you are, they'd weep with envy.'
'Then why won't you stay over two nights in a row?'
'Because I have more than my fair share of romance,' she replied, glancing at her ring. 'But let's sit down.'
The VIP section was much more crowded than before. 'Laetitia!' cried Harry. 'And Eric ... what a fantastic surprise.'
'It's like we're back in Paris,' she said, admiring his outfit. 'But you're missing an essential part of the look,' she added, gesturing towards his eyes.
'Not in England,' he said, and he introduced them to Alex. She seemed more at ease now that the other witches were leaving him alone, and Jocelyn and Maryann were busy fending off admirers on the dance floor.
While Alex and Eric were talking, Harry told Laetitia about the modelling offer he'd received. 'A share in the profits?' she exclaimed. 'They're right, that's practically unheard-of. But your instinct about Britain is spot-on—you'd never live it down. Japan, on the other hand ...'
'Have you been there?'
'No, but in my previous incarnation as a Muggle party girl I met a couple of celebrities who endorsed products there, and it's a goldmine. You just need to decide if it'll bother you when it gets back to England. Because it will get back here, no question.'
'Right,' said Harry, furrowing his brow. 'If someone had told me two years ago I'd have a dilemma like this, I'd have thought they'd gone mental.'
Hermione and Ryan arrived, and Alex and Eric rejoined the conversation. This is what I hoped my parties would be like, Harry thought, although he supposed they had been like that for everyone but him. Eric and Ryan were hitting it off, and Alex, Laetitia, and Hermione were gabbing like old friends. Laetitia marvelled over Hermione's ringlets, and Hermione pulled out her wand to show Laetitia the charm she used.
Harry was still holding Alex's hand, and Light magic rose within him. Here it comes, he thought blissfully, and within seconds he was glowing brightly. The nightclub exploded with cheers, and a generous supply of Weasley's Self-Cleaning Confetti fell from the ceiling. Alex turned and kissed him, and Harry was overcome with gratitude and joy.
'The Light Lord and his Lady,' proclaimed Pansy. 'You must be Alex,' she said, extending her hand. 'I'm Pansy Parkinson, Harry's fellow Slytherin.'
'It's nice to meet you, Pansy,' she said, and Harry added, 'Alex was educated in America but she was Sorted into Ravenclaw last week.'
'Really? I would have thought only a Gryffindor would be brave enough to accompany Harry tonight. Practically every witch here wants a piece of him,' she said, running her hand along his bicep.
Harry gently shook her loose. 'Is Draco here with you?'
'Yes, he's negotiating with the cocktail waitress, whom he's been keeping busy. But why aren't you drinking anything?'
'That's a good question,' said Alex. 'It wasn't very generous of them to comp our drinks if the waitress avoids us the entire time.'
'Yoo-hoo! Cocktail waitress!' called Pansy. Turning to Harry and Alex she rolled her eyes and said, 'House-elves are so much easier.'
The waitress arrived and took their order, and Pansy began interrogating Alex. Harry shot Alex a questioning glance, but she nodded as if to say, 'Don't worry, I can handle her.'
Harry was still glowing, so he decided just to enjoy the music and ambience. But Draco approached, holding what looked like a mixed drink. 'Potter,' he drawled. 'Or Black, I can't remember. Or perhaps now it's Malfoy even—everyone says you want another Wizengamot seat.'
'How are you doing?' asked Harry. 'Have you been here long?'
'An hour, perhaps. And we had dinner first at Dunnings, where they know how to keep the wine flowing.'
'Dunnings? Of all the wizarding restaurants I've been to, that was probably the least interesting.'
'The food perhaps, but that's not why people go there, as you know from your post-coital brunch with Lydia Travers. Did you sneak off to the loo with her between courses?'
'No,' said Harry, unsure how to handle an intoxicated Draco. I'd love to hear his unvarnished opinions, he thought, but he'll be furious if he reveals too much. 'How's freedom treating you?'
'Brilliantly. Oh my god, there's nothing like the Boudoir. Mother kept me supplied, of course, but there's no substitute for the atmosphere. And now I have to earn a fortune to make up for it. But that's my new life's mission: Earn back what Father lost.'
'That's a tall order,' said Harry.
'Gods yes. It took centuries to build, and Lucius wiped it out in one stroke. If I were sober I'd blame the Ministry, but we both know it was Father's fault.'
'Why not blame Voldemort?'
'Because today is Thursday. On Mondays and Thursdays I blame Father. Tuesdays and Fridays I blame Voldemort, and on Wednesdays and at the weekend I blame you. Which could make your Quidditch match awkward.'
'Yesterday was Wednesday and you were perfectly civil.'
'True, but you got a free pass for springing me from my gilded cage. Speaking of which, I was surprised Bode didn't claim that being confined to the Manor wasn't a proper punishment.'
'I would have argued otherwise,' said Harry.
'Yes, you were quite the barrister! When did you become so clever? Surely you didn't start out this way.'
'It's all Hermione's influence—especially the vocabulary. At some point I decided to ask when I didn't understand a word, and I sound much more clever as a result.'
'That's fortunate. I suppose you didn't learn much from your Muggle relations, other than every use of the word "freak."' Harry's glow dimmed, and Draco said, 'Aha, another weak point. I won't tell Gilstrap about tattered curtains, but I might tell him about that.'
'Is he here?' asked Harry, looking around.
'Yes, but I kept him at arm's length, just as I was taught. Mustn't let commoners get too close, because they always want something. But surely you've learnt that by now.'
'I thought I was a commoner.'
'Sadly no, not anymore,' said Draco. 'Even without the Black connection, you've upgraded the Potters, and as long as you don't marry like your father did, Potters will be wizarding gentry in a generation or two.'
'Do you really still believe in blood purity?'
'Not as far as magic is concerned,' said Draco. 'Granger is proof of that, to say nothing of the Dark Lord. But family names still matter, as Miss Travers can tell you. She was on my short list, you know.'
'I'm sorry it didn't work out,' replied Harry.
'Some people say she's still acceptable, since her family took her back and she has mountains of gold. But of course Mother would never approve, and I couldn't settle for your leavings.'
'She's not my "leavings,"' said Harry. 'And besides, she dumped me.'
'Yes, it's ironic that the man they call "Desirable Number One" can't keep witches around. Although who can blame them, with your appalling vow. I was certain you'd made that up.'
'No, I don't lie.'
'Oh yes you do. You probably lie a hundred times a day, only you tell yourself those don't count. But that's fine—I lie too.'
'Are you lying when you say you won't carry out your father's orders?'
'When did I ever say that?' snapped Draco, more alert than before. 'Was that a Slytherin attempt to discover if I'm plotting against you?'
'It was, but I admit it was sloppy. I'm still new at this.'
'It would have worked on some people, but I'm not some people. I'm Draco Lucius Malfoy, Slytherin supreme.' He paused and added, 'Mother says I was mis-Sorted, but she's wrong. I'll do anything to promote House Malfoy. Although I'm grateful you blew the lid off the lordships, because it infuriated Father that the Malfoy seat in the Wizengamot was in the third row. But now we can argue that the Malfoys were clever not to give the Ministry more than was required, and that the Blacks were already displaying their profligacy.'
'You avoided my question, so I'll ask you point-blank: are you plotting against me?'
'Father is. He gave me nearly a yard of parchment yesterday, detailing his plans to destroy you and the Ministry. It has diagrams and everything.'
'Do you intend to follow orders?'
'Not at present. As you put it, I'd have to be pretty bloody daft to follow in Father's footsteps. Although it's tempting to take you down a few dozen pegs.'
Harry had made progress with his beer, but he wasn't anywhere near as intoxicated as Draco. 'How did your father react when he heard about the contract your mother signed.'
'She said he bellowed like a troll. But thank Salazar he doesn't know about my Mark.'
'Yes, about that. Why haven't you told anyone?'
Draco narrowed his eyes. 'Because I want to play both sides. I can't very well convince Dark wizards I'm one of them if everyone knows my Mark is gone.'
'But you are a Dark wizard, or you will be once you get a new wand.'
'Potter, there are two kinds of Dark wizard,' Draco explained. 'There's Magnus Travers, who lives to a ripe old age and is incalculably wealthy, and there's Ursinus Travers, who winds up in Azkaban. Most Malfoys have been in the former category, but Father was in the latter.'
'And you need to convince the second category of Dark wizards you're not just a sell-out like old Magnus?'
'Yes, and my Mark was invaluable in that respect. But I also need to convince Dark wizards that, despite appearances, you and I aren't mates, and that I'm just using you.'
Harry raised an eyebrow. 'Does this mean we're mates?'
'I couldn't say,' said Draco coolly. 'Perhaps I am just using you. I've done a brilliant job, if you think about it. First you gave me back my wand, even if you ruined it, and now you've got me my freedom. All Mother and I did was stop telling people you weren't a true Black.'
'When you put it like that, I look pretty thick,' said Harry. 'But personally I hope we're mates. Merlin knows we were enemies long enough, which wasn't much fun.'
'No, the best part was the taunting, but you claim we can keep doing that.'
'Absolutely. I'll insult you from here to Sunday if you like.'
'Saturday will be fun, when I get to blame you for everything,' said Draco.
'Couldn't you loosen up the rules now that you're no longer under house arrest?'
Draco frowned. 'Not right away. The rules kept me sane, if you can call this sanity. So has alcohol ... speaking of which, the waitress seems to be avoiding us.' He lifted his empty glass and called, 'Excuse me, I need a refill over here.'
The waitress didn't notice him, and Draco said, 'Harry, can't you light up or something?'
'To call a waitress over? That would be a first.'
Draco continued waving his empty glass in the air and said, 'Come on, Potter, what are you waiting for?'
Chuckling, Harry closed his eyes and invited his Light magic to resurge. It wasn't as bright as the previous time, but it nevertheless triggered cheers and another round of confetti, and the waitress soon arrived.
Draco ordered a gin and tonic, and Harry asked for an elderflower pressé. 'Potter, we'll never be friends if you can't handle your liquor,' said Draco.
'I can handle my liquor,' retorted Harry. 'That's why I'm not having any more.'
'Is that your secret for going six times in a row?' asked Draco conspiratorially.
'It didn't hurt, but it was mostly Light magic and a relentlessly demanding partner.'
'Yes, I suppose you were always desperate for approval. But you seem to be ignoring your current girlfriend—where is she?'
'Good question,' said Harry, looking around. He quickly spotted Alex talking with Luna, who was wearing an extraordinary headdress that was held up at the corners by actual glowing fairies. 'She's over there, with Luna Lovegood,' said Harry, pointing them out.
'Oh, she's lovely,' said Draco. 'Far less common than those two C-squareds. What's her Blood Status?'
'I think she's what you'd call "the right kind of half-blood," but I'm not sure.'
'How can you sleep with someone without knowing something that important?'
'I've slept with people without knowing their surnames,' said Harry. 'And so have you, if you've been to the Boudoir.'
'Filles de joie don't count.'
'Then by that logic you're probably still a virgin.'
Draco frowned. 'Good point. But you know what I mean.'
'I don't think you understand what it's like not to care about Blood Status,' said Harry. 'It really and truly doesn't matter, as far as I'm concerned.'
'So you'd date a Muggle?'
'If Secrecy weren't a concern, yes.'
'What about marriage?'
'Honestly, I'm not sure,' said Harry.
'Ha! I knew it!'
Harry sighed. 'I don't think it's unreasonable to want magical children. And of course I might still have magical kids if I married a Muggle. But I'd hate to have one who was magical and another who wasn't. My mum's family was like that, and it was a disaster.'
'Unlike my mother's family, which was a model of sisterly love.'
'Your mum and Andromeda seem to be getting on well,' said Harry.
'They are. Obviously Mother doesn't visit her "cottage," but Andromeda brings her little half-breed round regularly, and I'll admit he's amusing. I suppose if you had to give away half the Black vault, he wasn't a bad choice. And this way Andromeda won't have to ask Mother for gold, which would have been awkward.'
More people had crowded into the VIP section, to the point where Harry and Draco were starting to get jostled. 'I think half the Quidditch league is here tonight,' said Harry.
'Yes, and it looks like Gilstrap is headed our way. I think I'll take his side this time.'
'As you like.'
'Potter,' said Gilstrap. 'I confess I'll be disappointed when you change your name, since "Potter-Black" doesn't roll off the tongue the same way.'
'How are you, Gilstrap?' asked Harry.
'I'm doing brilliantly,' he replied. 'The Magpies are still in second place, in spite of your failure to beat the Harpies. But really, couldn't you have extended your streak by one more week?'
'Apparently not. I assume you've met Draco Malfoy?'
'Yes, we met earlier, as I'm sure he told you.' Gilstrap looked back and forth between them and said, 'The family resemblance is uncanny. You're both bipeds and everything.'
'Thank Merlin we're only distantly related,' said Draco. 'Although I seem to be stuck with him regardless. Congratulations on getting him to punch you, by the way. It took me years to get him to snap like that.'
Harry wasn't glowing but his Light magic was still present, so he was able to casually observe their conversation without getting upset. 'I could kick myself for not closing the deal,' said Gilstrap. 'My only excuse is that I had no idea he'd been abused like that. Neglected, perhaps, but not what he was hiding. Were you as surprised as I was, Malfoy?'
'Yes, but I shouldn't have been. He dressed horribly at Hogwarts, except for his school robes and such. But I assumed it was out of pity for Ron Weasley.'
'Which reminds me, what on earth are you wearing?' said Gilstrap, indicating Harry's outfit. 'I assumed you'd wear your usual robes and flowers.'
'I bought these in France,' said Harry. 'My girlfriend Alex insisted I wear it.'
'Yes, I saw her—she's lovely. And presumably less grasping than those two C-squareds. But I suppose you didn't want to embarrass yourself by wearing your faux-aristocrat costume around an actual aristocrat.'
'No, he embarrasses himself all the time,' said Draco. 'This is the first time I've seen him in anything but robes lately. It's sad, really.'
'You should take it as a compliment, Malfoy,' said Gilstrap. 'Clearly you were his role model when it comes to the wizarding upper class.'
'That's a good point—his godfather hardly counts.' Draco turned to Harry and asked, 'Have you modelled yourself after me as you try to claw your way up from the middle class?'
'I once imitated your accent to convince a Muggle I was a lord,' admitted Harry.
'Did it work?'
'No, because I didn't keep up the accent long. But my clothes convinced her.'
Gilstrap surveyed the packed nightclub. 'I have to admit, Potter, you draw a crowd better than anyone I know.'
'Nonsense,' said Draco. 'Potter's overexposed. Everyone's here to catch a glimpse of me.'
'That may be true!' said Gilstrap. 'I've never met an actual Death Eater before. May I see your Dark Mark?'
'No,' said Harry. 'Even I know it's bad manners to ask to see a Death Eater's Mark.'
'Of course you can see it,' said Draco. 'What's the use of being stuck with it for my whole life if I can't show it off in bars?' He pulled back his left sleeve and revealed a prominent Dark Mark.
Clever, thought Harry, supposing Nitta had glamoured him.
'Fascinating,' said Gilstrap. 'And yet you're still at the pinnacle of wizarding society.'
'And here it comes,' said Harry. 'Gilstrap is obsessed with unearned privilege.'
'Only yours,' said Gilstrap. 'Malfoy doesn't pretend to be a man of the people.'
'That's exactly it!' said Draco. 'Potter's unique talent is that he's had nearly everything handed to him, except family of course, but he's still sympathetic somehow.'
'Not this again,' said Harry. 'I should find Alex and dance.'
He had to stand on tiptoes to see past the crowd, but it turned out Alex was nearby talking with Cho Chang. 'Your first girlfriend has been telling me stories,' said Alex when he arrived.
'Oh dear, I'm going to need more alcohol if this continues. Cho, are you here with Wainwright?'
'Yes, thanks for introducing us. And it's been lovely meeting Alex.'
'She is lovely, isn't she?' said Harry, looking at Alex affectionately.
'Oh my god, it's the Look!' exclaimed Cho. 'I remember that look, the first night we kissed! That was more or less the only time I saw it, but it kept me going for nearly two months until our so-called relationship cratered.'
'I'm sorry, I was completely useless back then—you mustn't take it personally. But do you mind if I steal Alex away? I desperately need to dance with her again.'
Cho excused them, and Harry leaned close to Alex to ask how she was doing. 'I'm having a great time,' she said. 'Your friends are awesome, although Pansy was a bit odd. And "odd" doesn't even begin to describe Luna. But everyone's made me feel welcome—more than I can ever recall feeling in England, to be honest.'
'Really? That's unfortunate.'
'I've always been an outsider here, but not American enough to seem exotic. And I didn't go to school with anyone, so we didn't have that in common. But now I'm in Ravenclaw and I'm dating Harry Potter, which is about as English as it gets.'
'I'm glad you're having a good time. And I'll have you know, wizards keep telling me how pretty you are. I'm sure you're doing wonders for my reputation, as far as taste is concerned.'
She blushed and said, 'Thanks, and sorry to freak out earlier. It was just overwhelming at first. By the way, everyone loves your scarf, although several people expressed concern that wizarding robes are now "out."'
'Did you reassure them?'
'Yes, not to worry.' She looked over his shoulder and said, 'Uh oh, the cameras are here. I suppose this was part of the agreement.'
'It was,' he said, turning around. 'Is my foulard straight?'
She adjusted it, and they posed together for photographs. 'Potter, will you glow for us?'
'That depends on whether you promise to discard the photo if I misbehave.'
'Yes, Fenella insisted,' said one of the photographers, and the others nodded.
'No one wants a lawsuit,' said another. 'Particularly now that the lords won't shut it down like last time.'
'Then all right,' said Harry, turning towards Alex with what he suspected was the Look. His Light magic arose, and there were more cheers and confetti. 'Make sure the photographs show how graceful Alex is,' he insisted. 'And the correct description is "gazelle-like."'
They posed for more pictures before heading to the dance floor, where nobody tried to intrude. 'This is what I hoped my parties would be like,' he said. 'I can dance with a witch I'm crazy about, and I don't need to worry about Light magic.'
'When should we leave, do you figure?'
'Ugh, soon.' He looked at his pocket watch. 'Yeah, after the next song.'
As it happened, the next song was a slow one, 'Purple Rain,' which reminded him of Lydia. But all his attention was on Alex, and they were fully snogging before it ended. Afterwards, they drifted hand in hand through the main door, and he Apparated her back to his bedroom at Grimmauld Place.
Although Harry wanted to jump straight into bed, she stopped him for a moment. 'When I decided I wanted a pocket romance while I was in England,' she began. 'I never imagined it would be with you. But I can't think of anyone more perfect. Not that you're perfect, mind you—not even close. But the fact that you'll never marry me is ideal, because there's no need to burden ourselves with real life. I should really thank whoever made you take that vow.'
'It's been torture for me,' he said. 'Because I fall in love so easily, and I can't bear the thought of not being with whoever I'm with. When it's someone like you, anyway.'
'Then really it's just the transition,' she said, but Harry didn't understand. 'You're happy when we're together, and so am I. But is it really so hard when we're apart?'
'I miss you when we're apart.'
'But are you miserable?'
'No. Except for when I couldn't sleep on Saturday night, when Darren and the two witches were there.'
Alex nodded. 'I know the feeling. Not from being in bed with three people, but from being with someone I didn't feel close to. It's far more lonesome than just being alone.'
'I'm close with Darren,' said Harry. 'But I didn't fancy a cuddle.'
She walked towards the bed. 'Do you fancy a cuddle now?'
'Always,' he said, giving her the Look and untying his scarf.
