Harry didn't arrive early to practice the next morning, as he normally did when everyone knew he had a date. Instead he skated in at five minutes to nine.

'There you are!' exclaimed Lara. 'Everyone was worried, and I'm sure Tuttle was preparing a speech. Is everything all right?'

'Yes, except for the part where I just kissed Alex for the last time, and she'll be back in America within a week.'

'Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry. Feel free to whinge later if you like. But not now, because Tuttle will tear you new one if you're even a second late.'

He quickly stowed his clean clothes and ran to the pitch. 'I'll be damned, you made it,' said Tuttle. 'With two minutes to spare.'

'Blast!' shouted Janet. 'I had him down for thirty seconds.'

'Too bad,' declared Lyle. 'A bet's a bet.'

'You had a wager over how late I'd be this morning?' asked Harry.

'Only when you didn't turn up at half eight,' said Suresh. 'I thought you had a date with Alex last night.'

'He did, but he dragged it out,' said Darren. 'Isn't that right, Snitchbottom?'

Harry didn't reply, and he was relieved when Tuttle ordered them to start running. He sprinted ahead and made a point of running alone, which told his teammates he didn't want to talk. Alex, he thought mournfully, still feeling her kiss goodbye. Tears had clung to her long eyelashes, and he'd held her tight as long as he could.

He didn't know if it was good or bad that he would see her again. How will I stand it, sitting across from her without being able to stroke her hand, or just gaze admiringly at her? To make matters worse, Rocky would be there, confident in Alex's love and commitment. And they'll go home and have sex that same night, he thought bitterly, and he wondered which restaurant served the heaviest food.

Harry wished he could bring a friend, but he had no idea who to invite. Hermione would surely want to spend the evening with Ryan, since it was their only night not followed by practice or a match. Gemma might be willing, but Harry didn't fancy being taunted all evening, which had become their primary mode of interaction. Lara was dating Lee, and inviting Janet could only be a disaster. And as much as Harry appreciated Luna, he didn't fancy a night of non-sequiturs.

Maybe I should invite Pansy, he thought facetiously. Or Jocelyn and Maryann—they'd be a distraction, if nothing else. But he knew there was no one he could invite, and that he would have to go alone. At least I can drink, he reminded himself. And if I get pissed and make a scene, maybe Jodi and Heidi will find out.

The previous night's blissful realisation had unfortunately slipped out of reach. Why is Light magic so bloody inconsistent? One day I'm in heaven, and the next day I'm back in the muck. He'd seen directly that he didn't need a girlfriend to feel complete, but twelve hours later he was ready to go to the Boudoir and lose himself in as many witches as he could lure upstairs at once.

He ran faster, hoping that physical exertion would ease his restlessness, and he was so overzealous during calisthenics that Tuttle ordered him to slow down. 'Take it easy, Potter—you have a match tomorrow, and I don't want you falling off the broom.'

At least she didn't criticise him for flying aggressively. During the drills that morning he flew like a maniac, drawing concerned looks from his teammates, but Tuttle seemed to understand. 'That's exactly what I want to see during the match,' she said. 'You didn't get to feint last weekend, so make up for it tomorrow.'

He felt better by the time lunch rolled around. After showering and changing into robes, his expression softened and his teammates were no longer scared to talk to him. 'Are you all right?' asked Renée. 'You had your "I defeated Voldemort so don't fuck with me" face on all morning.'

'Yeah, I'm doing better,' he replied, and he briefly explained the situation with Alex. She offered sympathy before leaving with the other starters, and Harry went with the reserves to his cousin's sandwich shop.

It was called the Black Olive, and it was on a side street at the far end of Diagon Alley. It's not the best location, noted Harry, and he wondered if any other buildings were available to let. But it wasn't empty, and the menu looked promising.

Harry's teammates automatically clustered to protect him from onlookers, but he revealed himself when he reached the counter. 'Harry!' said Marvin Black. 'Thanks for coming! What can I get you?'

'The number six, please. With extra mustard.'

Marvin was too busy to chat, but his father Elliott came out. 'I'm so glad you could visit,' he said warmly. 'I know it's just a sandwich shop, but I started it myself and people seem to like it.'

Harry introduced Elliott to his teammates. 'Gemma Rees!' exclaimed Elliott. 'You made quite a splash last month!'

'I told you so,' taunted Harry. He turned to Elliott and said, 'Gemma is convinced she's a non-entity, even though she's already the best-known reserve in the league.'

'Trust me, Gemma, you already have a following.' said Elliott. 'And I heard the bookmakers are giving odds on your first match against Harry.'

'When we're on different teams, you mean?' she asked, and Elliott nodded. 'Blimey! You win this round, Toffer!'

'Toffer?' asked Elliott, and Harry reluctantly explained Gemma's nickname for him.

'But it'll be Toffer-Blatch soon,' she said. 'He told you about that, right?'

'He did.' The door chimed when another customer arrived, and Harry was pleased to see Lisa Black. I could invite her to dinner tomorrow night! he realised.

'Lisa!' called Elliott. 'Look who turned up!'

She smiled when she saw Harry, but when she approached her expression was stern. 'Look, I'm flattered, but cousin-shagging isn't my bag. You'll have to find someone else.'

Gemma started laughing. 'I like her! I'm Gemma, by the way.'

Lisa introduced herself, and after fetching her sandwich she sat down with them. 'I only get a half-hour for lunch, so I always come at the same time and eat the same thing. Marvin has it waiting for me.'

Harry was happy to see Lisa and his teammates getting along, although he reddened when they told embarrassing stories about him. He became more convinced, however, that she was friend material, and he took her aside before she left.

'Lisa, I have a favour to ask,' he began.

She looked at him sternly again. 'Are you hinting for an introduction to my manager at the shop? I'm sorry, Harry, but I don't know you well enough to recommend you for a job.'

He laughed and said, 'Then perhaps we can remedy that. I'm hoping you'll join me and some friends for dinner tomorrow night. Specifically, my now-former girlfriend Alex and her fiancé.'

'She has a fiancé!' gasped Lisa, and Harry explained the situation.

'I'm to meet him tomorrow night, which will be challenging. But it'll be easier if I have a friend with me, and you seemed like the right person to ask.'

She seemed surprised but was obviously touched. 'I'd be glad to come. What should I wear?'

'Something nice. Alex wants a Battle of the Dandies, so you'll need to keep up.'

'Can I help you choose an outfit?' she asked excitedly. 'I'm dying to see your wardrobe.'

'Are you sure this isn't just a trick to see Walburga's Wonderland?' he joked.

'Yes, although you raise a good point. Will people think we're dating if we go out together?'

'I can't predict what people will think, but I'll do my best to correct that impression.'

'Oh my god, you're going to mention me on the radio, aren't you?'

'Only with your permission. In fact, you could join us on the air if you like.'

She turned pale. 'I'll have to think about it. But yes, count me in for dinner.'

After Lisa left, Harry posed for a snapshot with Elliott and Marvin, and he promised to come back soon. 'Ask your teammates what they thought,' Elliott urged him. 'There are a lot of sandwich shops out there, and we're always looking for ways to stand out.'

'Have you considered using real French bread?' asked Harry. 'There's a new bakery in Manchester, and I'm sure they'd deliver.'

Marvin raised his eyebrows. 'Now that's an idea! Cheers!'

Harry was more relaxed at practice that afternoon, and during their match he told Gemma what had happened with Alex. 'Poor Toffer!' she said consolingly. 'You just can't keep witches around, can you?'

'There was never any hope with Alex,' he replied. 'But at least we'll part friends, assuming I don't hex her fiancé tomorrow.'

'Have you lined up anyone new?'

He shook his head. 'She'll be a hard act to follow. Maybe I just need to take a break.'

'Not bloody likely,' she scoffed. 'You might want to, but I'm certain Little Lord Black has different ideas.'

'Oi!'

'Oh come on, you must have a nickname for it!'

'I don't. And if I did, that wouldn't be it.'

'Then we'll just have to come up with something, particularly when it becomes world-famous in your adverts.'

'It'll be covered up!' he argued.

'Barely. And I bet the editors of Sorceress will use your photographs to craft some kind of model, and then get your partners to confirm it's accurate. Between those two C-squareds and the witch from the article, they'll get it perfect.'

Harry sighed and stared blankly into the distance. 'So that's it—I'll have no secrets left. None at all. Why am I signing this contract?'

'Because you want to help your cousins upgrade their sandwich shop and offer dowries for Lisa and her mates.'

'Dowries! I never promised that!'

'Don't you want Lisa to marry properly?' prompted Gemma. 'Being pretty and clever will only get a girl so far.'

'You're right,' he declared. 'I'll offer them dowries and post their photographs on the noticeboard at Pratt's, along with some numbers. How does that sound?'

'Please tell me you're joking. People don't actually post pictures of their marriageable daughters?'

'No, they pass around an album.' Seeing her horrified expression, he said, 'Just kidding.'

After practice, Harry went to Gringotts to discuss the contract from Runnion. He was nervous the goblins would lose respect for him, but Redblade's demeanour suggested they hadn't.

'The terms are extremely favourable, Mr Potter. I also showed their sales projections to my colleagues, as you requested, and they deemed them conservative. This is an excellent business opportunity.'

'And goblins won't scorn me for it?' asked Harry candidly.

'Goblins already scorn wizards,' declared Redblade. 'Your foolish pride, amongst other things. And British wizards are particularly laughable, with your hypocritical prudery.'

Harry resisted the urge to ask how goblin attitudes differed. I'm not sure I want to know. 'Do you recommend any further changes to the contract, or should I sign it as is?' he asked.

'The only possible change is right here,' said Redblade, pointing out an item on the third page. 'Which name should they use in their advertisements? Currently it says "Harry Potter."'

Harry grimaced. 'Gringotts knows about my name change?'

'You've long hinted at it. Is it imminent?'

'Yes, I plan to announce it next week. Harry Potter-Black, with a hyphen.'

Redblade smiled toothily and said, 'Our gaming department will be pleased to hear it.'

Harry's eyes shot open. 'Don't tell me they're going to place a bet.'

'No, Mr Potter. Gringotts is magically forbidden from gambling using inside information, by choice. Otherwise no bookmaker would offer us odds. But our gaming department places numerous wagers, and after much debate they bet heavily on Potter-Black and a September announcement.'

That was clever, thought Harry. He didn't violate their rule against using inside information, but he suggested I announce by the thirtieth. It wasn't a problem, though, since he'd already told Rita he wanted to announce on Tuesday, which was the twenty-eighth.

He looked again at the contract. 'I should probably use Potter-Black,' he said. 'I have Narcissa's approval, and Potter-Black sounds more posh. And besides, the whole reason I'm doing this is to rebuild the Black fortune, so they can bloody well share the blame. But give Runnion the choice.'

'Very good,' replied Redblade, and he magically edited the document. Next he held out a quill, and Harry signed where indicated.

'And there goes what was left of my dignity,' announced Harry. 'Promise to stop me if I ever agree to full-frontal nudity.'

'Yes, Mr Potter. Shall I start the paperwork for your name change?'

'Please do, as long as you can keep it secret until Tuesday morning.'

'Naturally,' replied the goblin. He asked several more questions about how Harry wanted to proceed and assured him everything would be in place on Tuesday. 'All you'll need to do is present this form to the Ministry, and it will be done.'

Harry grimaced. 'In person?'

'Yes. The office of the Registrar General opens at half past eight.'

At least I won't be late for practice, he thought resignedly.

Harry's next stop was the Dapperling Tea Shop, where he was led to a private room. 'Harry, you're a doll to meet me here,' gushed Rita. 'But my dream is to be invited to your house one of these days.'

'Not bloody likely,' he said breezily, and she laughed.

'You'll trust me someday,' she insisted. 'Because I have no intention of betraying you—you're an absolute delight.'

He sat down and asked, 'How long an article are you envisioning? There's really not much to say about my name change.'

'I could write a hundred column inches about the socks you're wearing, dearie. Speaking of which, I heard the most delicious hint of a rumour about you!'

Bloody hell! thought Harry. How does she do that? Keeping his expression neutral, he said, 'Let's talk about my name first, and then if there's time you can tell me about this rumour.'

'And you just confirmed it. But don't worry—I shan't say a word.'

'Right. My name,' he said tersely. 'What do you want to know?'

Rita's Quick-Quotes Quill stood at attention over a parchment. 'Which name did you decide on?'

'Harry Potter-Black. With a hyphen.'

'Very posh,' she said approvingly. 'You'll get much better service at Muggle restaurants.'

'That wasn't my goal—I primarily didn't want the Potter to get lost.'

'Is there any risk of that?'

'Frankly, yes. I can't remember my parents, and most of their friends are dead. Other than my resemblance to my father, there's very little tying me to my own family. Although I've met people who knew my grandfather, and I'm told I resemble him in character.'

'And he's the one who made a fortune in Potions,' said Rita. 'Are you ambitious that way?'

'We seem to have jumped topics,' he replied coolly.

'I suppose we have done. But I just can't stop thinking about your ... socks.'

'This interview is about my name change,' said Harry firmly.

'Of course it is, darling. Please say more about your identity as a Potter.'

'I'm the last one living, amongst wizards anyway, and I don't want to discard that legacy. The Potters were an honest, unpretentious family, and I want to pass that forward to the best of my ability.'

'Do you think that's possible, given your current status?'

'Are you asking whether my kids will be spoilt?'

'Yes. Will they be?'

'Not if I can help it. But sadly there's precedent, since my father was over-indulged—although fortunately he got over it. I suppose I'll just have to follow in his footsteps and choose a wife carefully.'

'No offence, dearie, but your father liked your mum because she was a tasty little redhead who kept turning him down. He was only nineteen when they married, after all.'

'Then he got lucky. And I'll be older when I marry, thanks to my vow.'

'You certainly impressed everyone with your taste this time around,' she said approvingly. 'Those two C-squareds were a bit concerning.'

'I can't say I like how everyone talks about them,' grumbled Harry. 'Their behaviour is far less scandalous than mine, but I seem to be getting a free pass.'

'Welcome to the world, darling. Men get away with everything. Rich men in particular.'

'Then that's another thing I'd like to change,' he replied. 'Although it probably isn't under my control.'

'You underestimate yourself. I suspect you could convince the sun to set in the east if you wanted to.'

'We've drifted off topic again,' said Harry. 'I think we were talking about whether my kids will be true Potters or not. And the answer is, I don't know, because I have so little information about what a Potter is, other than middle-class.'

'That no longer describes you,' said Rita, admiring his robes.

He shrugged and said, 'For all I know, my kids will want to wear ripped jeans and old concert T-shirts, like Sirius did. In fact, they'll probably rebel and wear clothes I hate.'

'That definitely sounds middle-class. Will you expose them to your Muggle relations?'

Harry's eyes shot open. 'God no! My cousin maybe, but certainly not my aunt and uncle, unless they have a change of heart. But please, don't print any of that.'

'Of course not,' she said reassuringly, making a mark on the parchment. 'But enough about the Potters ... let's talk about the Blacks. I assume this was motivated by your godfather?'

'It was. He wrote me a letter just a few weeks before he died asking me to reestablish the Blacks as a Light family, and I've been told that changing my name is the fastest way to do it.'

'Did you resist the idea?'

'Fiercely.'

'Why?' she asked.

'Any number of reasons. First: I'm a Potter, not a Black. Second: I'm not ashamed to be middle-class, and I don't want to look like a social climber. Third: Hyphenated names are pretentious. And so on.'

'So what changed your mind?'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Sirius. He's the only father I remember. I miss him terribly, and I want to honour his wishes for the family.'

'What about the other Blacks?' asked Rita.

'I've become close with Andromeda Tonks, who was Sirius's first cousin, and we seem to have formed a family. And it helps that she's raising my godson, Teddy Lupin.'

'And the Malfoys?'

'It's true that Draco would probably have been named Head of House if Sirius hadn't designated me, and I'm sorry for any disappointment I caused him. But otherwise I'd like to respect their privacy and only say that I'm on good terms with both him and his mother. In fact, they participated in a Black family reunion last weekend.'

'With four people?' she asked. 'And a baby?'

'No, far more than that.' He told her about the restored branches of the family, which surprised her.

'I can't believe I didn't know about them!' Raising her eyebrows suggestively, she asked, 'Is there a family resemblance?'

'There is. And yes, a lot of them are good-looking. But I'm not continuing the inbreeding tradition.'

'Nonsense, you're not closely related. Promise me you'll get your hands on some dishy cousin when you turn twenty-one.'

'I'll get my hands on some other, non-related dish, thank you very much,' he retorted, and Rita laughed out loud.

'I'm using that,' she said, making another note in the margin.

Harry told her his intention to let his children choose a surname when they came of age, assuming he had any.

'Darling, you probably have some in the works right now.'

'I don't,' he said confidently. 'Ginny and I spent a year testing my Contraception Charm, and it never failed once. And I never forget to cast it.'

'That's fortunate, because you'll need to sell a lot of underwear otherwise.'

'Rita,' he said through gritted teeth. 'That's not what this interview is about.'

'Fine,' she said petulantly. 'Would you like to address the accusation that you're changing your name only to sell more Cannons merchandise?'

'I'm one step ahead of you, Skeeter. My plan is to cover any costs associated with updating the merchandise people have already bought. They just need to bring it back to the shop or owl it to the team.'

'That's very Slytherin of you, darling, because no one is going to take you up on it. And your Potter merchandise will become collectors' items. Same with anything you've signed so far.'

'Bugger! I'm going to need to sign a million more photographs, aren't I?'

'Yes, and magazine adverts.'

'You've changed the topic again,' he said tartly. 'We were talking about my name.'

'I have everything I need,' she declared, removing her quill from the parchment. 'And I'm dying for all the ... underlying details.'

Harry sighed heavily. 'The Blacks squandered nearly everything. They left more than enough for me, and my children even, but not enough for generations of an extended family.'

'Please tell me we'll see your adverts in Britain. I simply love Muggle magazines for that reason, and I'm disappointed we have nothing similar.'

'My adverts won't run in Britain. Obviously people will find out about them, but you won't see them here.'

'Oh well,' she sighed. 'And what are the lucky countries?'

'Japan, and North America. And probably the Continent after that.'

'Darling, you're brilliant—they'll adore you in Japan. And America will simply eat you up.'

'That's the idea.' Frowning, he asked, 'How do you think this will affect my reputation? I already signed the contract, so go ahead and tell the truth.'

Rita leaned back in her chair. 'I have three words of advice,' she said, looking him in the eye. 'Keep me happy.'

'Er, what does that entail?' he asked, trying to read her expression.

'Not that,' she replied saucily. 'Now that you've provided an instruction manual, my protégés keep me satisfied. They always did, of course, but you've saved me the trouble of explaining things.'

'Then what do you want?'

'Stories. Long, delicious stories.'

'I've given you those.'

'No, you've just tossed me table scraps. I want the main course.'

'What do you have in mind?' he asked nervously.

'A memoir.'

'A memoir? I'm only nineteen!'

'You've used your time well. Consider it practice for your later memoirs.'

'No,' he said firmly. 'The most important parts are classified.'

'I'm sure we could work around that. Even with your handful of secrets, you're still the world's most fascinating wizard.' She narrowed her eyes and added, 'It would be a worldwide best-seller, and you'd get most of the profits. I'd just get the writer's cut.'

'There's nothing left to say!' he argued. 'I'm already overexposed.'

'Your side of the story isn't.'

He shook his head. 'I refuse to talk about my childhood with the Dursleys.'

Rita waved her hand dismissively. 'I don't need an exhaustive retelling. Just provide a few anecdotes, and I'll move on to the Hogwarts years.'

'Please, no,' he implored. 'Not yet. It's too recent.'

'Oh, darling! I've made you upset!' she said with what sounded like actual compassion. 'You're right, it's too recent. I can wait.'

I knew our alliance was too good to be true, he thought bitterly. But he simply nodded.

Rita looked over her parchment and asked him a few more questions about his name change, which he answered distractedly. But then he squared his shoulders and said, 'I won't be bullied.'

'I'm sorry?'

'You tried to bully me just now into writing a memoir with you, but it won't work. If you don't want my "table scraps," just say so and we'll call the thing off. But that's all I'm prepared to give, perhaps for a long time, and you'll just have to accept it.'

Rita's eyes darkened, and her lips parted as she took a deep breath. 'My god, you'll sell a lot of underwear,' she murmured. 'I've told you to check your partners for Polyjuice, right?'

'You have done.'

'Harry, darling ... I wouldn't dream of ruining our relationship. Your table scraps are positively delectable. And if that's all I get, I will pick them clean and suck out the marrow.'

Sweet Merlin! thought Harry with alarm. 'I should go now,' he said. 'Owl me if you have any more questions about my name change.'

She languidly followed him from the room, and as he walked to the fireplace he automatically looked for Rita's protégé Timothy. Something tells me he's in for a long night, thought Harry before stepping into the green flames.

He only had a few minutes before Simon was to arrive for their weekly tutoring session. Running a hand through his hair, Harry wondered if his life would ever be less busy. But at least I won't be writing a memoir anytime soon.

Simon arrived right on time and stepped out of the fireplace, and Harry was alarmed by his drawn appearance. 'I'm sorry to turn up like this,' said Simon. 'Are you sure your cousin won't mind?'

'No, she's very curious to find out whether Teddy has any wolf aspects, and she knows you'll be peaky right before the full moon.'

'That I am. Was his father never able to evaluate him?'

'No. Teddy was born several days after the full moon, and Remus died barely a fortnight later.'

Harry led Simon to the dining room, where he fell upon his dinner ravenously. 'Again, I'm sorry you have to see me like this,' he said between bites.

'Really, it's fine,' said Harry. 'Remember I eat with Quidditch players.'

Simon laughed. 'I'll feel better after eating, so hopefully I won't frighten your cousin. But forgive me, I can't remember her name. Cassiopeia?'

'Andromeda. And she's looking forward to meeting you, not least because you're helping civilise me.'

'Do you still want to discuss music tonight?' asked Simon.

'Yes, please. And after you examine Teddy, I'd like to go to that record store in Manchester. I'm told they have listening booths, which I don't dare try in a Muggle record store right now.'

They talked about music over dinner, and Simon visibly perked up after eating. 'Thank you, Harry. I feel almost human again ... shall we go?'

They travelled by Floo to Andromeda's house, where they found Teddy toddling around in pyjamas. He looked almost entirely normal, except his hair was magenta and he had a long tail. 'Harry, welcome,' said Andromeda, kissing him on the cheek. 'And you must be Simon. I'm Andromeda.'

Simon inclined his head respectfully. 'It's a pleasure to meet you, Andromeda. And this can only be Teddy.'

'Goffa!' cried Teddy when he saw Harry.

'It's stuck,' said Andromeda. Turning to Simon, she explained, 'It's short for "godfather," and Teddy refuses to call him anything else.'

Harry lifted Teddy and played with him while Andromeda and Simon became acquainted. Harry wasn't listening carefully, but he was pleased that they only briefly talked about him before asking about each other. Simon told Andromeda about his former teaching career and how much he enjoyed resuming it as a tutor.

Eventually he asked to see Teddy. 'Do you mind if I sniff him?' he asked, embarrassed.

'Not at all,' she said warmly. 'I'm accustomed to werewolves, and I'm not worried you'll eat him.'

Harry held Teddy while Simon examined him. 'I'm not detecting any wolf traits, but I'm catching Harry's scent as well. Is it all right if I hold him?'

'Go ahead,' said Andromeda, and Simon took the toddler from Harry's arms.

Simon continued his examination, and Harry went to the bookcase to inspect the record collection. 'Who's the Rolling Stones fan?' he asked.

'Ted was,' said Andromeda. 'Whereas I preferred the Beach Boys, whom he scoffed at.'

'There's nothing wrong with the Beach Boys,' remarked Simon. 'They influenced the Beatles, after all.'

'Thank you! My husband ridiculed them as a band for American teenagers.'

Holding up Teddy, Simon said, 'Not even slightly wolfish—he's all boy. Where shall I put him?'

'Hand him over ... it's time for bed.' Her eyes met Simon's as he passed her the toddler. 'And thank you. I wasn't actively worried, since I have enough on my mind, but I'm relieved to know he doesn't have any latent characteristics that might come out later. No offence, of course.'

'None taken,' he replied. 'I wouldn't wish lycanthropy on anyone, least of all a child.'

Andromeda bade them both goodbye, and they went next to the record store Lydia had told him about. I hope she doesn't turn up, he thought sadly. The other customers briefly looked up from the bins of records when they noticed Harry, but they resumed flipping through the albums, which drew a chuckle from Simon.

'There's a religious quality to serious music fans,' he said quietly. 'And looking through record bins is almost a meditative experience.'

Harry drifted towards the David Bowie section and found several albums Simon had recommended, which led to ninety minutes of experimentation across genres. By the time the store closed, Harry had selected more than a dozen records, which he purchased and brought home.

Simon insisted he listen first to 'The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust,' and by the middle of the first song Harry was glowing. 'It's truly a marvellous album,' said Simon. 'And now I'll confess I didn't loan it to you last month because I couldn't bear parting with it.'

'You're forgiven,' murmured Harry, whose eyes were closed.

After several songs, Simon stood and raised the record needle. 'Harry, may I ask you something?'

'Yes, go ahead,' he replied, still glowing brightly.

'Would you object to my asking Andromeda to dinner?'

'No, of course not,' said Harry, surprised. 'On a date, you mean?'

'Yes,' replied Simon. 'But do you recommend I even ask? I know my circumstances are ... unfortunate.'

Harry's compassion stirred, deepening his Light magic. 'In spite of her maiden name, Andromeda's no snob. I don't know whether she's interested in dating, but I can't imagine she'd hold your lycanthropy against you.'

'It's not just that.' Simon took a deep breath before continuing. 'In your Light magic interview, you pointed out that it's difficult for wizards to starve, and that we can always live in a tent and use Warming Charms. As it happens, you described my living situation perfectly. Things are improving now that I have several tutoring clients, but I'm far from prosperous.'

Harry was mortified, not for Simon but for himself. I have an enormous townhouse and gold coming out of my ears, and Simon lives in a tent, he thought guiltily. 'I can't speak for Andromeda, but I don't think she'd mind. Remus was very poor when I met him, and after he was forced to leave Hogwarts I have no idea how he survived. He sometimes lived here at least, but he refused to take a Knut from Sirius. But that didn't matter to Tonks—his wife—and Andromeda didn't object to their marriage.'

Simon nodded, and a single thought ran through Harry's mind: Should I offer him a place to stay? Or would he be offended?

'You might be a master Occlumens, Harry, but I can see what you're thinking. And the answer is no.'

'No, you won't stay? Or no, you won't be offended if I ask?'

'Both. You're extremely kind to think of it, but I'm fine where I am. Wizarding tents are perfectly comfortable, as you well know.'

'But the bed!' blurted Harry, and Simon laughed.

'Yes, it was ghastly. But I finally replaced it the week before last, and my life has improved immeasurably.'

Still feeling helpless, Harry said, 'Can't I do something?'

'You have done. When you shaved your head for FLOOF, not only did we receive hundreds of Galleons in subscriptions, but more than a dozen businesses hired werewolves.'

'My hair grew back the next morning,' admitted Harry.

'It doesn't matter. You risked your reputation for us, and it's made a huge difference.'

'Do you at least need a comfortable place to spend the full moon?' he asked hopefully. 'You won't be able to cast Warming Charms while you're a wolf.'

'I'm never cold as a wolf. But I wouldn't say no to a warm house on Sunday while I'm recovering. Although I refuse to stay if you're entertaining guests.'

'I won't be. My girlfriend Alex and I just broke up, and all I have on Sunday is a Light magic lesson. I can have Kreacher set up a room for you, and he'll provide whatever you need.'

'On Sunday, yes,' agreed Simon. 'And thank you.'

Simon was ready to leave, and he started heading upstairs towards the fireplace. 'Would you rather Apparate?' asked Harry. 'I assume your tent isn't on the Floo network, and you can Apparate from the back garden.'

'Yes, that would be simpler,' he admitted, and they walked together to the kitchen.

After Harry saw Simon off, he placed the needle back on the record and allowed himself to glow again. I signed away my dignity this afternoon to enrich the Blacks, he mused. And both families are likely to make a killing from the condom scheme, not to mention Blaise's enterprise.

Harry knew what he needed to do. I need to give away more to charity. FLOOF, WORF, and a dozen other organisations needed his Galleons far more than his future offspring did. They don't need to be Malfoy rich, he thought. Potter rich is fine.

With a chuckle, he recalled Gemma's definition of noblesse oblige: 'Noblesse oblige is the idea that rich and powerful people should use their advantages to help the less fortunate. In other words, you still get to be rich, but you can pat yourself on the back about how generous you are.'

Nevertheless, Harry felt relieved as he listened to the rest of the album, and he apologised to his descendants for recklessly depriving them. Let them learn Light magic instead, he thought fondly, and with his intention the seed was planted.