Harry Potter meets Death
By An Orc.
Ch 7. Back to school.
Harry took the Hogwarts express, armed with a wand, a trunk and corned-beef sandwiches. Ron had taken some galleons and bought a new trunk, and clothes that fit. Hermione was reading. People came by to say hello, and Harry's face hurt from fake-smiling.
The sorting feast was … Harry had missed Hogwarts food. And the thought of three meals a day, and not having to cook was … it was worth coming for.
Dorms that night featured more manly pushing around and joking about shagging than he'd done in sixth year.
Harry woke for his first day of seventh year feeling… excited.
And classes were interesting, if a bit hard, and the food was brilliant. Ginny did send him the occasional foul glare, but no bat-bogey hexes. Harry tried to ignore the way Ron and Hermione disappeared every evening.
Friday came, and Harry felt it was time to start on the next part of his life. Time to date the right witch, for a change.
Harry checked the marauders map, found Tracey Davis in the library, (next to Daphne Greengrass) and headed over to the right desk. His hands felt damp.
Next to her sat Daphne Greengrass, who drew her wand on Harry as he approached.
"Um, Tracey?" asked Harry.
Tracey Davis looked up from a book, a half-eaten sugar quill in her mouth "Mhh" she said.
"Would you go to Hogsmeade with me?" Harry asked.
Tracey's mouth opened, and the quill fell out, falling on her notes. "With me?" she asked.
"Well yeah" said Harry "You can bring someone to feel safer, if you want?"
Daphne Greengrass narrowed her eyes and pointed her wand at Harry. Harry nodded "So I guess Greengrass comes too, with her wand out."
"Probably" said Tracey, and she made eye-contact with her blonde friend. Who nodded.
"Daphne's my backup" said Tracey.
"Okay" said Harry.
"Why me?" asked Tracey "We've never talked in seven years!"
"Why not. I've spoken to Daphne, and your dad assures me you're not a Death eater" said Harry lightly, and Tracey went red in the face, and hid her face behind her hands. "You talked to my dad!" she groaned.
"He's my lawyer, so I kind of had to" said Harry "The topic of people in Slytherin getting a hard time this year came up" Harry stopped smiling "Are you getting a hard time?"
"People are rude" said Daphne Greengrass.
"Boys are suggesting that as Slytherin girls we just let them do what they want, after all we're death-eater sluts" said Tracy, somewhat resentfully.
"Give me a list of names of people doing that from all the girls in Slytherin, and I'll see them sorry" said Harry.
"Please!" said Daphne Greengrass "McGonagall won't do anything"
"Oh I'm not thinking McGonagall, I'm thinking Dumbledores' army" said Harry. "Those of us still alive, anyway."
"You're proposing vigilante justice on a list of lies written by Slytherin girls?" asked Tracey.
"No" said Harry "Starting with threats, second time's vigilante justice."
"You'd believe us?" asked Daphne Greengrass.
"All we'd do is tell people to treat you like… people" said Harry "Of course if you sent us a second list of repeat offenders… then a little light roughing up."
"And a third time?"
"There won't be a third time" said Harry evenly "Because third time, I'll hex their faces off."
"Wouldn't that be a curse?" asked Greengrass.
"No, a skin-peeling hex applied sideways" said Harry.
"EW, GROSS!" said the two girls.
….
Tracey was clearly quite tense getting into the carriage to go to Hogsmeade, and Daphne just had her wand out. Not a huge fan, thought Harry. Maybe the joke about the marriage contract had been in poor taste.
By the time they'd walked around, and Harry had bought everyone some ice mice, Tracey had relaxed a bit, and told a joke.
About badgers and pixies. Harry wasn't sure he understood, but it sounded dirty.
"So why come back for seventh year?" asked Tracey.
"A family obligation to hunt down some dark wizards" admitted Harry only lying a little "Only some. A rare few."
"Why?" asked Tracey.
"I did a deal" said Harry.
With the minster?" asked Tracey.
"Much worse than the minister" said Harry. "He's actually nice."
"The Department of Mysteries!" explained Daphne Greengrass, staring at Harry intently – her eyes were quite blue.
"They are a lot worse than the minister" admitted Harry.
"Do you know anyone there, can you give me their owl-post address, can you put in a good word for me?" said Daphne Greengrass, who like Hermione seemed to be able to speak without breathing. Only Greengrass did it without sounding out of breath somehow.
"This is Daphne, my best friend. She likes gobstones, singing, horses, flying and her ambition is to work in the Department of Mysteries, doing weird mysterious magical things." said Tracey, completely deadpan, and Harry snorted.
Daphne Greengrass rolled her eyes "Do you know anyone?" she repeated.
"I know the minister and Junior undersecretary Weasley" said Harry "I'll write to them, Percy's really good at ministry stuff, he'll know who to write to, and Shack will put in a good word for me, he owes me."
"And people say Gryffindors are too honourable to hand out favours" said Tracey.
"Gryffindor, bravery" said Harry "Honourableness is optional."
"So are you a dishonourable cad, Mr Potter?" asked Tracey.
"Not on the first date" said Harry blandly.
"Daph, cooing charm, quickly, his moves are too sexy" said Tracey waving her hands as if to cool herself down, and Daphne Greengrass waved her wand at Tracey, clearly not casting a spell.
Harry couldn't help a crooked grin.
"Don't encourage her too much she can keep this up all night" said Daphne.
Harry put a hand to his forehead "Alas, as a good boy, I am bound to be back in dorms by curfew, so all night is out of the question."
Tracey and Daphne stared at him, and Tracey snorted. Daphne rolled her eyes some more "Boys claim all night, and fail to deliver."
"I honestly have no idea. I've always respected curfew" said Harry, trying for a straight face.
Tracey snorted. Daphne crossed her arms. "Well, you two are getting on just fine" said Daphne.
Tracey nodded "So, important questions, who's your quidditch team?"
"Erm" said Harry, who'd not really followed league, just played it at school. Ron of course, was a tragic Cannons fan, but Harry had no love for their endless losing. "Um… Tutshill?" said Harry.
"You don't wear their colours" said Tracey.
"I don't really follow league quidditch" admitted Harry "Was busy fighting a dark lord."
"Poor excuse" said Tracey "What's more important, quidditch or anything else?"
Harry was struck by the strange similarity between Ginny's Quidditch vs exams theory and Tracey Quidditch vs everything else approach. Was he just the sort of bloke that had quidditch mad girlfriends? Not that Tracey was yet… but Death's promise was there, like a reassuring safety rope.
"Sometimes, other things are more important" said Harry.
"Not a total quidditch zombie then" said Greengrass.
"You say that like it's a good thing!" said Tracey. "I thought as best buddy of the school's most tragic Cannons fan, ex of the schools most ardent Harpies fan, and the little bit about being the best quidditch seeker at school in ages, you might be… more quidditch-focussed."
"It's nice to be praised for something I did, not just something I got" said Harry "But it is a chance to fly. I love to fly."
"AHA!" said Tracey "He's weakening, we will finally learn…. What he actually likes."
Harry crossed his arms "I like to fly. I like magic, I like cool magical creatures. And I can't say I like magical plants. They're scary."
"Who is this imitation Gryffindor anyway?" asked Tracey.
"Hey!" said Harry "Some twat of dark lord. Tall, face like a snake, dead like disco?"
Daphne Greengrass snorted.
"Seriously, we need to know, are you playing quidditch this year?" asked Tracey.
"I'm trying out next Saturday" said Harry "If I get in, I get in."
"Excellent" said Tracey "So you're playing this year."
"I'm not a sure thing on the team" said Harry "And I might have to drop off the team for NEWTs."
"So autumn and winter and maybe spring of quidditch pants at least" said Tracey.
"Quidditch pants?" asked Harry "I suppose I need to buy some new ones. My old uniform is lost."
"That's a shame" said Tracey "They'd be really tight"
"There's quality quidditch supplies" said Daphne, pointing "I'm sure you can get him into a really tight pair. For school morale."
"Perving?" asked Harry, shocked that girls wanted him to wear tight quidditch pants. What the hell?
"An appreciation of the artistic qualities of the human form" said Daphne Greengrass.
"What my colleague said" said Tracey, nodding.
"He has got bigger though" said Daphne "Is he too big for seeker?"
"Oh I think with some encouragement he'd slip in" said Tracey, and they both giggled.
Harry was a bit disturbed, but shopping happened.
Harry got back to dorms slightly harassed, with a new quidditch uniform, and a used Nimbus two thousand and one. Harry was quite sure the pants weren't too tight.
But he had found Tracey quite funny, if a little hard to cope with the innuendo sometimes.
That would, thought Harry probably sort itself out.
He did, just before bedtime remember about Greengrass's request, and mostly out of feeling sorry for having upset her, wrote a letter to Percy, with another to Kingsley inside. A school owl would have to do.
The next date came two weeks later, and Tracey was once again accompanied by Daphne Greengrass. They both had cloaks on, and looked quite pretty.
"Oy stop pinching two you greedy bugger" shouted Seamus as Harry got into the carriage.
Harry closed the door
"Well I never" said Tracey.
"Certainly not" said Daphne.
"Those rumours about Slytherin girls are lies" said Tracey. "And while Daphne and I do everything together we certainly don't do that together."
Harry nodded politely.
"And aren't lesbians or bisexual" Traced added, and Harry felt like he'd been hit with a choking curse.
"You'll kill him if you tease him that hard" said Daphne.
"But rigor mortis will set in eventually" said Tracey.
Harry started to wonder about calming draughts.
Over butterbeer, Tracey asked an odd question. "So, what's your favourite band?"
"Um" said Harry "I um… I dunno. Never really had time, and my um, relatives, I wasn't allowed to play music." Not that I had any, thought Harry.
"That's dreadful" said Daphne Greengrass "Music classroom!"
"You, me, music classroom, and DJ Greengrass" said Tracey.
"What?" asked Harry.
"We're going to go listen to music, you berk. What if you like Clestina Warbeck or something?" said Tracey. Daphne was shoving her fingers down her throat, making fake making herself vomit motions.
"Ron's mum listens to Celestina Warbeck" offered Harry.
"And you found it?" asked Tracey.
"There was singing" said Harry, he shrugged.
"Did it move you?" asked Tracey quickly.
"Did you want to dance?" asked Daphne, straight afterwards.
"Were you inspired to sing the lyrics?" asked Tracey, grimacing.
"Um no" said Harry "Ginny used to sing bits… sort of"
"Weaselette can sing?" asked Daphne, staring oddly intently.
"Not…. Proper singing." hedged Harry. Harry wasn't sure Ginny sang 'in key' whatever that meant.
They had to swing through the second-hand store, and Tracy just about dragged him to a set of shelves where large square cardboard envelopes lay in piles.
"Lets see what they've got?" she said, and started handing the packets one at a time to Daphne, who re-shelved them, while Tracey said "Old… old …. dreadful…. Hobgoblins best of?"
Daphne took … a small black record out of the packet and eyed it carefully ,holding to the light, and then checking the back side.
"A side's scratched, b-side's okay" she said.
"That's a keeper" said Tracey.
They kept going, looking at records till the pile was done.
"Shouldn't you put it back on the same shelf?" asked Harry.
"This way we know we've checked, Gazzer might get some new stock next month." said Daphne, handing Harry three records "Your first records."
"I haven't got a record player" said Harry.
"There's such a thing as owl-post" said Tracey "Come on, you're paying."
Harry paid nine sickles, and left with a brown paper parcel.
"Don't drop them, they'll shatter" said Tracey. "Muggle ones are made of something different and don't, but these do."
Harry was dragged up to the Charms corridor, down the hall and into a classroom he'd never been in. Musical instruments were in class fronted cupboards all around the room.
"This took ages to clean up" said Tracey.
"Had to buy some new ones, some complete skrewts blew up musical instruments" said Daphne Greengrass. Harry wondered about that, and decided 'complete skrewt' was a great phrase.
Harry was dragged quite literally over to an old-fashioned record player, and shown how to put a record on. 'Hobgoblins, the best of.'
Crackling started, then a magically amplified violin started to whine, and then something that sounded a lot like rock music blared out, and a drum-beat started.
The singer, whoever he was, was yelling and screaming and… it sounded very angry.
Harry was just standing, listening , but then he realised the witches he'd come in with weren't standing near him, and he turned around – to see them both dancing, waving their arms around and bopping back and forth to the music, and when a chorus started, Tracey lifted her arms and yelled along to the music.
The song ended three verses later. It wasn't like normal rock music, and not like the Weird sisters.
Tracey bustled over and changed the record, and the crackling starting up bit happened… then a witch with a strange accent started singing about…. About how awful her life was. It was not a happy story… then a chorus happened and Daphne Greengrass unexpectedly joined in… but that loud, clear tone… and the room just about shook with her singing. Which was… well he understood their crack about Celestina Warbeck now. And had to watch how Greengrass did it, she opened her mouth and well her chest went up and down. Nice chest, thought Harry. And the sound of her singing… there was something about it.
Greengrass stopped singing at the end of the chorus, and Harry found himself waiting for the next verse to end. When the song ended, Greengrass smiled to herself.
"Like I said" said Tracey "Daphne can sing."
"That's like saying I can play quidditch" said Harry dryly. Unexpectedly, that made Greengrass, who'd seemed such a cold, controlled witch, blush and flee the room.
"Great" said Tracey, with a sigh "You've upset her."
"I just said she sang really well" said Harry.
"She's a bit… odd about compliments" said Tracey "Whereas you can compliment me all day." She fluttered her eyelashes.
"And you'll lap it up?" asked Harry.
"Only after dinner and drinks" said Tracey "And never on a first date. Third date, perhaps."
Harry didn't get what she meant.
The next record, Harry … well he liked it, and his jiggly leg, it wanted to jiggle in time with the music.
"This you like?" asked Tracey over the music "Dave and the Stonecutters?"
"Uh" said Harry … and he went out on a limb "Yeah, I do!" he said.
"Tragic" said Tracey, but let the record play.
Then she turned it over and explained about B-sides, where the not-so good bits of the album went, and played that. And Harry decided that he… liked Dave and the Stonecutters. Even if Tracey shook her head at him. She was still smiling a little though.
"So now, dancing" said Tracey, and Harry felt utter horror. Not dancing again… the Yule ball fiasco.
Tracey must have seen the look on his face as she laughed "Not Ballroom, just dancing. You just wave your arms around to the music and hop around."
Harry waved his arms awkwardly.
"Are you actually a dork?" asked Tracey.
"I've never done this before"
"Oh merlin!"
Three records later, Harry sort of got dancing to records, and Tracey had danced with him… and that was sort of fun. Then Harry had to go to the loo, and when he came back, records were playing and Daphne Greengrass had come back and was doing an odd dance where she and Tracey mirrored each other's moves, and still jumped around.
Greengrass stopped dancing when she saw Harry.
"Look, I'm sorry if I upset you" said Harry "I just meant that you sing really well. You should be a singer."
"I'm going to be a serious witch and work in the department of Mysteries!" said Daphne, with a slight wobble.
"I sent the letters off for that" said Harry, nodding.
"You actually did?" she said "You weren't just bragging?"
"No" said Harry "I'm not going to brag, everyone already knows all ab out me, and It's… its always been fucking weird. I got to Hogwarts" Harry started to wave his arms "And everyone knows who I am, and stuff, and I didn't even know… well anything" He shut up, and let the music play. No way was he ever telling anyone else that he didn't know his parents names.
Tracey walked over and changed the record, and Harry recognised the song.
"He likes Dave and the Stonecutters" said Tracey, and Daphne grimaced "Well at least he's yours."
"Two dates Daph. And we can always wean him off that onto decent music!" said Tracey.
"We could try… muggle music. He' was raised muggle?" asked Daphne.
"Well… some Lee Ferillo?" suggested Tracey "Flitwick's got some in his cupboard."
And for some reason, Daphne had a key, and took out a box of records, and put a disk carefully in the turntable carefully.
A pumping beat stated, and then a man stated to sing about being down at the jetty… and it was… it was how Harry felt most of the time. He couldn't help nodding his head.
"Ohmigod… he likes it we're saaaaved!" said Tracey dramatically. Harry snorted.
Harry practically closed his eyes, listening to the grumpy, mournful song, and the next song, and the next… and Harry started to wave his arms around a little, and wiggle about a bit. It felt…. Right.
Harry was also too hot, so he took off his jumper, and put it on the desk, and saw behind him Tracey and Daphne, with their coats off, and their shirts untucked, dancing around , clearly having fun, This music stuff, though Harry was all right.
The next song was way faster, and Harry bopped mostly eyes closed to that… and then opened his eyes, and the witches were… they were wiggling to the music and Harry …. had to close his eyes. Bloody hell! He thought the last bit of Yule ball had been exciting. The way Greengrass's hips had wiggled, it reminded Harry of some very pleasant memories of snogging Ginny.
Harry opened his eyes and made a point to look only at Tracey, who was dancing, and had an attractive flush on her face, she waved one hand "Come on over and dance with me, or is this not a date!"
Harry went over and danced with Tracey, who was smiling at him, and that felt really good. Harry saw glints in the cabinet fronts, of someone moving behind him, and had to stare, to be sure it wasn't a threat… but it was Greengrass, dancing alone behind Harry, her arms straight up over her head, spinning and that looked a bit like ballet, then she… wiggled rather sensually again and Harry felt really guilty. His eyes flicked back to Tracey's face and she didn't seem to notice. Then in a move that shocked Harry, Tracey came over and leaned her bum against Harry's hip and sort of shimmied down like Greengrass' wiggle but different. Harry's pants felt very uncomfortable, and Greengrass called out "Tracey! You'll give him a heart attack!"
Tracey moved back to dancing in front of Harry, with a devilish smirk on her face.
A while later, a bell tolled outside in the clock tower. Which meant it was dinnertime.
Tracey stopped dancing, Daphne took the record off the record player, and she and Tracey very carefully put away Professor Flitwick's music, Daphne bent and locked the cabinet, and Harry didn't stare. Much, and Tracey loudly re-wrapped Harry's records, and handed them to him "Now remember,"?
"Be careful they break if dropped" said Harry.
"Smarter than he looks" said Daphne, who had um… colour on her cheeks and a little sweat and stuff. It was a good look on her, but Harry turned and tried to ogle Tracey instead.
Tracey was watching Harry with a light smile "So, how's music?"
"Music is awesome" said Harry.
"And Celestina Warbeck?" asked Tracey.
"Makes us vomit" said Harry. Behind him, Daphne Greengrass laughed musically.
"Oh you're getting him well-trained quickly" said Daphne.
"One can only hope" said Tracey "That he is a quick learner."
Harry was headed down the great staircase with Tracey, not holding hands or anything but nearish.
"So, next Hogsmeade weekend?" asked Harry.
"Maybe" said Tracey "I'm keen to see you be interesting, and funny, and not a dork."
"I'm a dork and I'm your friend" said Greengrass from somewhere behind Harry on the stairs.
"But I already have one dork friend. Dad's a dork, and what would people say if I had a weakness for dorks" said Tracey.
"As long as he doesn't start with the marriage contract stuff" cautioned Daphne. Harry looked around and she was behind and to his right, with her wand out, but still looking warm.
"There aren't any in my family" said Harry.
"I know, Dad mentioned it" said Tracey.
"Try getting one to trap Tracey and I'll hex your balls off" said Daphne "The greatest asset a witch has is her free will."
Harry felt a little guilty at that, as he already knew Tracey was going to be with him for life. Even if she didn't.
"You said it was scrunchies last week?" joked Tracey.
"Fine, free will and scrunchies" quipped Greengrass poshly.
Harry found waiting for the next Hogsmeade trip a pleasant sort of torture, and filled all his spare time with doing the exercises from 'Ancient Runes for dummies.'
Hermione, who was somehow combining snogging Ron, holding Ron's hand and studying an awful lot, saw Harry at work in the common room, and dumped another book on him "Third year runes textbook. Do all the exercises, and I'll start you on the fourth year text."
The hard part about it, thought Harry as he puzzled over a rune that might be pear, was that there were no practical applications. Harry decided to… do something about that. He got up, went over to the desk Hermione had a book fort at, and asked.
"Hey Hermione, I need some practical application of runes." Harry asked. That felt better.
"Hmm" said Hermione, and she bit her lip, then stood up hastily "Of course!" she said, running off. Harry waited. She'd probably finish that sentence when she got back, after all. You got used to it after a while, he mused.
Hermione reappeared and handed Harry an old book. A very old book. The copy of Tales of Beedle the Bard that they'd used on the Horcrux hunt. "It's in runes, and you don't know the stories. Bon appetit!"
"I was hoping for something magical" said Harry "Like a rune to… I dunno, keep my shoes warm?"
"Later Harry, I'm busy" said Hermione. Harry thought about that "Where's Ron?"
"Detention with Sprout" said Hermione "She didn't like obscene jokes with root vegetables."
Harry went back to his desk, packed up, dumped it in his trunk and took Ancient Runes for Dummies and Tales of Beedle the Bard to bed. Reading the index took ages. 'The fountain of fair fortune' sounded good. Fair fortune sounded nice.
Harry got two pages in by curfew, and was cleaning his teeth when Ron came into the bathroom and started washing his muddy hands.
"What were you doing?" asked Harry.
"Separating lonesome leeks" said Ron "Little buggers keep trying to climb out of their pots and get together."
"I hate magical plants" said Harry "But don't tell Neville."
"He came to help" admitted Ron "Gave me some good tips. He's completely mental about plants."
As it was Friday ,and Hogsmeade weekend was tomorrow, Harry was sitting at dinner making a mental list of things to do in Hogsmeade that weren't dorky, when a cold hand fell onto Harry's shoulder. A freezing cold hand. Harry looked up, and saw a dark cowl, and a skull.
'Oh shit' thought Harry, and he got up from the table, Death backing off, and got out of the Great Hall, and into the small room they kept unsorted firsties in.
"There is one" hissed Death. "Spain. El Diablo Magnifico. Find his… horcrux and destroy it."
"I'm at school" said Harry "I can't just leave."
"That was not our deal" said Death, in an ominous way that would have had Snape biting his fingers off in envy.
"How long have I got?" asked Harry.
"You will still live many more decades" said Death.
"I mean to get El Diablo Magnifico's horcrux?" asked Harry.
"That is your task. Perform your task, and ensure no books are left behind that explain how it is done." said Death.
"Can it wait till tomorrow?" asked Harry. "I've got an assignment due and…"
"You have your task. Do not defy me, or you will suffer again." said Death. Harry rubbed the long scar on his arm.
"Right, I'll um get right on it" said Harry.
Death vanished.
Harry ran upstairs, running out of breath by the fourth floor, and slowly climbing to the seventh. Stupid regrowing lung. At least everyone was still eating.
Harry grabbed a space-expanded sack, jammed his wash-bag and some clothes into it, and shoved in the money-bag he'd made from a sack earlier. The sack shuddered and there was a burning smell, and that was strange. Then there was an explosion.
Harry woke up on the dorm floor, holding a tattered, torn sack. The money-bag was okay, and Harry deduced that you don't put a space-expanded thing inside a space-expanded thing. His wash-bag had caught fire. Harry went to stand up and discovered that hurt a lot. His legs felt… like that time a bludger broke his arm.
Harry put the fire out with some conjured water, tidied up the explosion a bit, cleaned the floor, and wondered how to get his legs unbroken really quickly. Madam Pomfrey sprang to mind.
A hastily summoned broom, and Harry was floating. He flew carefully downstairs, and out the portrait hole, then down the grand staircase, along level two, across the covered bridge and into the infirmary.
"Hello!" Harry called out. Madam Pomfrey wasn't here. Oh… at dinner. Harry waited.
Madam Pomfrey arrived half an hour later, and stared at Harry.
"Potter, why are you flying a broom in my infirmary?"
"Two broken legs?" asked Harry.
"And some sort of explosion?"
"Er yes" said Harry "An accident… I'm learning runes."
"You're worse than your father" she muttered, but a few taps of her wand, and his legs were mended.
Harry got off his wand, and walked around a little, then jumped just to check.
"Potter!" snapped Madam Pomfrey "If you were going to be in pain, that would have been crippling! Get out."
Harry left, carrying his broom, and it was such a long way back to dorms…. Harry eyed his broom, why not.
Harry whooped with joy, flying up the grand staircase, along the hall and getting off in front of the fat lady.
He got into the common room, everyone looked at him strangely, and he went to pack again, this time with less explosions.
"What's going on?" asked Ron from his bed, where he was reading 'What Broomstick' magazine.
"Got to go, family emergency" said Harry.
"The soot, the explosion?" asked Ron.
"Don't put space expanded sacks inside space expanded sacks" said Harry.
"Everyone knows that!" said Ron. "you didn't"?
A Portkey-office portkey got him to Spain, and a very helpful Percy had pressed a letter on Harry for the Spanish ministry.
The Spanish ministry official rad the letter, shook his head and told Harry
"Please wait"
Harry waited, and a lot later, a fat bearded wizard arrived, with a big golden chain round his neck.
"Mr Harry Potter?" he asked. Harry nodded.
"Juan Fernando de Castillo. President of the Spanish magical assembly. Kingsley Shackelbolt asks that we supply co-operation to you. Why are you in Spain?"
Harry decided to try simple "I'm here to kill El Diablo Magnifico" said Harry.
Juan nodded "Noble goal. Two problems, nobody knows where he is, and our best Aurors have died fighting him. He can't be killed."
Harry smiled "I'd heard" he said "Voldemort was the same, and I'll do the same thing."
"We would like if he was captured before a multi-year way destroyed Spain." said Juan.
Harry wondered if saying 'I'll try to have him done by Sunday night,. I've got classes Monday' would sound too… arrogant.