Harry Potter and the Glorious Scythe

by The Zig

[Sequel to EoR] Surrounded by danger. Cut off from friends and allies. Guided by an old enemy. Hunted by a supernatural predator. In the Realm of the Dead, no one lives but Harry Potter... and even he might not last much longer.

2. Masquerade of the Idol

Chapter 2 » Masquerade of the Idol

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Dear Mr Potter
There are several subjects that will be addressed here, the first of which are your actions this year. For your bravery and efforts which led to the death of Tom Marvello Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, you are to be awarded the Order of Merlin, 2nd Class. You will be presented this on Friday August 23rd, along with several others More information will be forthcoming at a later date..
Secondly, on more generic matters. As a sixteen year old Wizard, you have now come of age. You are legally entitled to (under old laws and new):
Use magic outside school time and areas, providing that it is not witnessed by Muggles, nor used for illegal acts;
Apparate, providing you receive a license to do so;
Leave school, should you so wish;
Marry;
Join the Auror Recruits or Magical Law Enforcement, providing you have the necessary qualifications;
and also to take on employment with full adult pay.
Finally, the question of qualifications. From the Department of Education, your exam results from last year are as such:

OWLs (Ordinary Wizarding Levels). With a rating of O (Outstanding; E (Exceeds Expectations); A (Acceptable); P (Poor) D (Dreadful); T (Troll). O, E and A grades are passes.

Exam Grade Result

History of Magic - O 98 (Exam taken early)
Magical Languages - O 93 (Exam taken early)
Astronomy - E 86
Charms - O 100
Care of Magical Creatures - O 93
Defence Against the Dark Arts - O 96
Divination - E 88
Herbology - E 87
Potions - O 97
Transfiguration - O 100

10 out of 10 OWLs attained

E-Levels (Extra-Levels).

Amulet Making - G3 94
Spell Creation - G3 90
Protective Magic - G3 92
Protective Magic - G2 88

4 out of 4 E-Levels attained

For NEWT level, you may take 4 or 5 subjects from the list below:

History of Magic
Magical Languages
Astronomy
Charms
Care of Magical Creatures
Defence Against the Dark Arts
Divination
Herbology
Potions
Transfigurations

Also at Hogwarts, E-Levels will be continuing for sixth years. These include:

Apparition Lessons - taught by Prof. Flitwick: 6th years and above only. Wednesday, 5-6pm. Teaches the ability to transport oneself from one place to another instantaneously. When completed, all successful applicants must obtain an Apparition License from the Ministry.

Magical Healing - taught by Madam Pomfrey and Healer Moran: 4th years and above only. Thursday, 5-6pm. Covers Magical and Muggle first aid, as well as basic biology, and recognising symptoms of common illnesses. Provides the basis for Magical Healing E-Levels, though more studying is needed to gain a grade.

Basic Auror Training - taught by Captains O'Keifer and Marcella: 5th years and above only. Friday, 5-7pm. Teaches basic defence, Auror methods and tactics, what to do in emergency situations, and also some basic tests such as mental and magical aptitude. Will require application and approval from Captain O'Keifer. Students who took this subject last year and also complete this year, will be able to gain a BAT E-Level Grade 3.

Best wishes for the future,
Gilbert Gillyweed,
Head of the Department of Education,
Ministry of Magic

Harry read through the letter again, knowing he should feel bewildered by the whole thing. The problem was, he didn't. The Order of Merlin? Well, he had defeated Voldemort. The use of magic outside school? He'd known it was coming. The near-perfect scores on his OWLs? To be perfectly honest, he was nearly surprised he hadn't received Outstanding on all of them. The rods and his increased studying had certainly helped him.

The fact he had 'come of age' was also something of a surprise to him. He knew that Wizarding laws were still semi-archaic, and that adulthood came earlier in the past - but even Muggle Britain had changed enough that eighteen was the age of independence.

And he had gained a hundred percent on two of his subjects! How had he got such a high score on his Divination exam, though? He had done well on the theory work, but the practical had been appalling - he hadn't seen a thing. Perhaps the examiner had a soft spot for him.

He turned back to Ron and Hermione's letters, and compared the scores.

Hermione had been put in for twelve OWLs, Harry knew, so she had more than him, though her scores weren't quite as good.

Ancient Runes - O 94
Arithmancy - O 91
Astronomy - E 88
Charms - O 97
COMC - E 85
DADA - O 94
Divination - E 76
Herbology - E 83
HOM - O 96
Magical Languages - E 88
Potions - O 92
Transfiguration - O 97
Spell Creation - G3 89
Protective Magic - Fail 72

Ron had done the usual of nine OWLs, and his scores were above average, even managing to just scrape by in Potions.

Astronomy - E 77
Charms - E 87
COMC - E 84
DADA - O 93
Divination - E 79
Herbology - E 74
HOM - E 71
Potions - A 60
Transfiguration - E 88
Protective Magic - G3 80

It looked like the rods had helped them all - especially Harry, who had more access to it than others, and the books and information from the laptop which he couldn't share with the others.

Harry picked up the letter from Hogwarts again and looked down at the list of items he'd need. New robes, new boots, new stationery, new gloves, a new cloak; and then it was on to specific lessons. What NEWTs was he going to take? Defence Against the Dark Arts, of course, and Charms and Transfiguration - Care of Magical Creatures and Potions would probably be good as well. Apparition Lessons and Basic Auror Training would be a must.

He checked down the list of equipment to see what he would need. It was going to cost a small fortune, he knew; books and potion ingredients, special hardwearing clothes for COMC - he even needed a protective amulet for Defence lessons.

He briefly considered taking Magical Healing, then decided against it. He would have enough to deal with this year, without another class that wouldn't even give him enough background to attempt an E-Level in the subject.

Harry yawned, placing the letters and presents in one of the compartments of his trunk, and returned to bed, deciding to send the thank-you notes and NEWT choices the next day.

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It was on Sunday, several days after his birthday, that Harry received four more items of interest to him. The first was a letter from St Mungos, telling him that the Canusabeo Potion had passed all the tests, and had not only been deemed fit for consumption, but had successfully cured two Werewolves. There was an offer of eighty-thousand Galleons - nearly two hundred thousand pounds - for the rights to it, and though Harry knew it was worth far more than that, he replied stating that he would give it free - as long as every willing Werewolf also had it for no cost.

The second item was the Sunday Prophet, which had two articles of particular interest; firstly, that there had been no sightings of the daemon and its Summoner, and secondly, that Draco Malfoy's trial had been set for Friday the sixteenth. Harry could only hope he wasn't to be called as a witness.

The final items of interest were the replies from Gringotts and St Mungos to the letters he had sent them several days before. Mungos was only too happy to accept the offer, and had sent a contract for Harry to sign, which left Harry with ownership of Canusabeo while they had full authority over administering it.

Gringotts was simply a confirmation of Harry's decision that the apartment in London would be able to be rented for the shockingly low price of eight-hundred pounds a month. It would certainly be a nice gain for his bank account; especially as he wouldn't be paying any taxes for another two years. If he had been living in the Muggle world, using a Muggle bank, he would be taxed when he started earning a certain amount - he would be taxed right now, in fact, thanks to the amount of bank interest he was getting - but the British Wizarding laws worked differently. He wouldn't be taxed until he was eighteen and earning over seven thousand Galleons a year.

He wondered briefly how long it would take for him to become a fully-fledged and qualified ambassador. Much shorter than it would take anything else, probably, he thought gloomily - once again being the Boy-Who-Lived (and killed) made him special. Who wouldn't want a Wizarding hero as spokesperson for their country? And how could they refuse him, anyway?

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Harry had avoided the Dursleys for much of the holidays, even Dudley who was astonishingly well-behaved compared to the previous years. Either his educational supervisor, or Harry's help in the garden, had done him a world of good.

Now, however, he was forced to see them - he had to explain to his uncle that he was disappearing for the day to London, specifically to Diagon Alley. Harry spent a few thoughtful minutes deciding how to go about this, before deciding that perhaps he didn't need to explain.

He was an adult in Wizarding law. He could use magic outside school (technically he could before, as Techno-Magic couldn't be sensed - but now he was legally allowed to) and he doubted any agent of the Five was going to attack him in crowded Diagon Alley, or even in Muggle London.

And why only a day? He had shopping to do in Diagon Alley and Muggle London - there would probably be a side-trip to Nocturne Alley as well. He would do it better in two days, or even three. So, it looked like he would be staying a few days - whether in Muggle or Magical London, he didn't know - and if the Dursleys were so furious with him sneaking off that they refused to take him in again when he returned - well, who cared? He had enough money to spend a few weeks in a hotel somewhere, after all. Or of course, he may even stay in one of his own residences...

Harry finished his short letter explaining where he was going and when he expected to be back. He wasn't going to ask straight out whether he could go, or even announce it; Vernon would probably try to force him to stay, and Harry quite frankly couldn't be bothered to get into a pointless and ultimately boring row with the man.

No. He'd stay away from today, Tuesday, to Saturday. Longer, if Vernon threw a fit - and threw him out when he returned. He stuck the note to the fridge with one of the magnets, hearing the sleepy dawn chorus of birds outside. He had his wand hidden in his holster, and was taking Hedwig with him in case he wasn't returning. The trunks weight had been easily remedied with a feather-weight charm, and now the only problem was travel.

It would take him the best part of half the day to hitchhike to London (assuming anyone would want to take him, anyway), and even longer to walk it. The Knight Bus would be filled with gawping fans, and his presence announced far in advance. He couldn't fly, not in broad daylight; and he was hardly going to take Muggle trains, taxis or buses when he was carrying a cage with an owl, a long case containing a broomstick, and his trunk.

So, it looked like he was going to find out whether 'Apparition: The MOM Authorised Guide' was really as good as it was meant to be. He'd never done it before - never even attempted it - but he knew the theory as if he had studied it his whole life; it was written on the inside of his skull, it seemed.

And of course, his first attempt would be made with an owl and luggage. Not exactly in ideal circumstances; but the Ministry wouldn't sense it if he cast a quick Techno-Magic spell to make sure they couldn't detect any magic. It would only last a few minutes, but that would be enough.

Harry took a deep breath, deciding which type of Apparition to use; there was a safer method which took a few seconds to travel by and made the traveller appear with a 'pop' or a faster method with no delay which created a 'crack' sound, but was more complicated and had a larger chance of splinching.

The safer method would be best; after all, he had all the time he wanted. "Kalae carnaena innouit," Harry whispered forcefully, not understanding the words, only knowing that the spell would make all magic cast in the area undetectable for six minutes. He would do this first time slowly, but even that would only take half a minute at best.

Now was the hard part. Harry pulled the luggage closer to him, causing Hedwig to give a baleful hoot, and lightly closed his eyes. Slowly, carefully, he sensed the magic inside him, and stoked it until it was actively running around his body, like a slow stream. Now, he drew it out to cover his belongings as he thought about the place he wanted to appear - in the back of The Leaky Cauldron, just in front of the wall that led into Diagon Alley.

There was no turning back on the next part, unless he wanted to be Splinched. Confident the lazy, invisible tendrils of magic were snaked around him and his property, Harry reached out to the back yard of the pub and - defining an area the same shape and size there as he wanted to move - pulled himself forwards.

Not physically; but a second later, there a was a bubbly-sounding pop as the air was displaced, and the contents of the two area were swapped, miles apart as they were. It had felt like a second, though Harry knew his body had hung in the balance for several - but he was fine, he discovered, as he looked over himself and his belongings, testing each limb.

He was in the right place, and it was empty apart from him; just the bins and their slightly foul contents. Harry juggled the cage over to a better hold, his other hand tugging the feather-light trunk and the case of Magecraft, and slipped into the pub.

There was no-one about, except for a Wizard scribbling something into a pad in the far corner of the room and frowning occasionally. An untouched mug of Butterbeer sat by his notebook.

Tom was also there, so Harry slunk over to him and nodded. "Hi, Tom."

The barkeeper and proprietor glanced up from lining the shelves with new bottles or Firewhisky and nearly had a heart attack.

"Ha-"

Harry darted a finger to his mouth before the customer could look up, and Tom broke off, leaning closer.

"What can I do for you, Mr Potter? A drink?" he goggled, his voice low and his eyes taking in Harry's belongings. Probably wondering how he had entered without being seen, Harry thought. He spoke before the man could voice the question.

"I'd rather have a room for the next few days, if possible," he replied quietly. "Until Saturday, at least. Is there a vacancy?"

The barkeeper bobbed his head immediately, still in admiration. "We have several - one with an en-suite is empty, I think. You can have it for five Galleons a day," he beamed, which suggested to Harry that it was usually let out for much more. But how could anyone charge the heroic Boy-Who-Lived the usual rate? Although he'd probably get it cheaper anyway - student discount.

"That's fine, thanks." Harry decided. "I don't have a lot of money on me at the moment, but I'm going to Gringotts when it opens - can I pay you then?"

"Gringotts is always open," Tom said at once. "But you're welcome to stay without charge for the moment. You must be knackered, out at this time of the morning."

Harry glanced at his watch. Just four o'clock in the morning? Most of the shops wouldn't be open for another five hours! On the other hand, he'd taken an Oxtamed earlier, and he wouldn't be tired for much longer than that.

Harry shifted his luggage. "Can I put this in the room? I'll go to Gringotts right now, as it's open."

He could simply have handed over his account key to Tom, and let him automatically charge him using that, as he had done occasionally in Hogsmeade - but Tom willingly agreed, and Harry was given a room key and shown to his rooms. It was obviously the best one; a large double bed, Wizarding Wireless, a mirror which was only too happy to spout off how wonderful his hair was looking, and an excellent view of Muggle London.

The en-suite bathroom was fully stocked with soap and other items, so Harry's first action was to brush his teeth; the Apparition had left a funny tingling in them, and the taste of the peppermint helped to detract from that somewhat.

He unlocked Hedwig's cage and opened the window in case she wanted to leave, and then put his broomstick and trunk in the cupboard for unpacking later.

"I won't be long," he promised the owl as she stared after him. "I won't have much to do, anyway; I'd be surprised if any of the shops are open."

He slipped down the stairs, gave Tom a smile, lowered his head as the other man looked up - he looked disturbingly like a reporter working on an article to Harry, who certainly didn't want someone pouncing on him - and stepped into the back-yard, tapped out the correct sequence of bricks in the wall, and stepped back into the Magical world.

Suddenly the air was so much sweeter, the sky so much more vividly blue, despite the Sun still low and drooping over the horizon. The place was still fast asleep; the shops were darkened, locked up, the streets empty but for a plump tabby-cat that dashed off from cleaning its whiskers as Harry passed.

Gringotts was just visible - an imposing sight that peeked over the roofs of several buildings, and Harry followed the wide and slightly winding street past a hundred tightly packed shops and houses, before he stood before it.

There was no-one here either, though the doors were wide open as always. Harry walked on, his shoes clacking uncomfortably loudly on the polished floors, as he approached one of the Goblins that sat behind the high desks.

It peered down at him over a pair of half-moon glasses. "Mr Potter?" it presumed in a nasal tone. "How may I be of assistance?" At least, Harry thought, it's not fawning over me.

"I'd like to withdraw some money," Harry announced briskly - but not too loudly, for the hall echoed when it was this desolate of patrons. "The Potter vault." he said, handing over the key.

The Goblin inspected it as though it were a contract, and eventually nodded. "This way, Mr Potter," it said, sliding down from the seat and beckoning Harry to one of the doors. None of the others seemed to find it particularly interesting, whether the fact that Harry Potter was here, or that anyone was making use of the establishment this early.

There was the usual ride down to the vault; Harry was glad that he didn't feel at all queasy at the end of it - but even if he had, he was sure he'd have been cured by the sight that met his eyes when the door to his vault was opened.

The ocean of Galleons, the sea of Sickles, the loch of Knuts almost completely covered the floor, but for a few square feet in front of the entrance, where the occasional coin trickled down. They had been heaped up high, into miniature mountains, glints of gold and shining silver. Even the bronze Knuts seemed brilliant in the torch-light.

The Goblin held out a pouch to Harry; black crushed velvet with a drawstring. "It has a Never-Fill charm on it," he informed Harry briskly. "It's two Sickles, if you want one."

Thankful, Harry passed over two of the silver coins and took the bag. How much did he need? Twenty Galleons for the room - more for food and drink, clothes and books, potions ingredients, rolls of parchment and normal ink rather than the fancy stuff Ron had bought for his birthday; and of course, any presents he may need to get, or anything he just happened to like the look of.

He eventually decided on two hundred Galleons, and an assortment of a few hundred Sickles and Knuts. It took a while to shovel in to the bag while the Goblin waited outside, but he didn't seem to mind; the ride up was almost pleasant, despite the bumpiness.

He spent a while outside, browsing the shop windows; he didn't want to be recognised as Harry Potter, but he didn't want to put a glamour or illusion on him in case it faded, or went wrong, or someone saw through it. He would have to buy something to disguise him. He could, of course, use the amulet that 'Voldemort' had, and that was now in his possession - but since Harry didn't particularly feel like appearing as a serpentine Dark Lord, that was out of the question.

Finally, he spotted something that would do the job perfectly. It would be too much trouble to have an object, in case it broke or he dropped it, but this was ideal; it was basically a tattoo - except, rather than just a Muggle image forced into the skin as ink on a needle, the pattern would be enchanted with a spell as it was put on. Just a small picture or pattern, that, when touched or activated, would bring the spell into effect.

It opened at seven o'clock, sooner than most of the shops, which meant Harry could slip out when there were few people about. Of course, he'd probably have to pay the tattooist to keep the work a secret, but that would be fine; he was just lucky that many Wizarding age limits were younger than Muggle ones.

He returned to The Leaky Cauldron - the journalist was gone, thankfully - paid Tom for the next two days and breakfast, and went upstairs to eat and start reading the novels Hermione had bought him.

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Harry left the pub at five minutes to seven on the dot, and arrived at the small store just as it opened. There was no-one on the street, except for three or four shop-keepers who opened early.

The lady who ran the tattoo parlour obviously recognised him, for she blanched as she caught sight of him. "You want a tattoo?" she asked doubtfully as he came inside. Obviously she wasn't expecting that.

"Just a small one," Harry explained. It certainly looked like a good place - clean, framed signs of the designs on the walls, even a proper cash register. Not like most Muggle tattoo parlours. "I really want the spell, not the tattoo, so I don't want it particularly noticeable."

The Witch - Mrs Hutchins as she introduced herself - brightened considerably at this. Obviously defacing the hero of the Wizarding world with a hideous facial tattoo was not in her career plans. She pushed him through to a back-room, so they wouldn't be disturbed.

"Wonderful!" she yapped, clapping her hands together. "Well, in that case, we have a number of small items to choose from - you're sixteen of course, so no problem with the age. Now, I suppose you want something tasteful - have a look at these, and consider exactly where you want it. Obviously if you want it for the spell, it'll be hard to activate if it's on your back, so I suggest somewhere on the forearm or back of the neck. Up to you, of course!"

Harry flicked through the pages of the thick folder she'd given him, filled with designs and prices. There were pictures, patterns, words; large and small, ones that looped around the arm or even circled the neck and others that only took up a certain small area.

What to choose? And where?

Perhaps something fitting - a phoenix? The Gryffindor crest? The Potter family crest - being a personalised design - would cost more. Well, he wouldn't let being the Phoenix colour all his decisions, so that was out of the question; and he didn't much feel like a Gryffindor most of the time. The Potter crest had a phoenix as well, so that was out.

Eventually, after some deliberation, Harry decided on a simple pattern; two black circles, one contained within the other. It didn't mean anything, it didn't symbolise anything - it was simply a pattern. It wasn't ugly, it wasn't beautiful. Just a meaningless image with no connotations or hidden link to him.

It would be placed on the underside of his left arm, just above the wrist. Three charms - one a strong glamour spell, one weak glamour, and one voice alteration which was joined onto the stronger glamour. The weak would cover the tattoo with the image of normal, clear skin. The stronger spell was much more important; when tapped with the forefinger of his right hand, it would change his appearance and voice.

His hair would become a light brown and a different style, his eyes a muddy brown as well; his face shape would change slightly to become more angular, and he would become slightly less well-built. There were smaller differences; his nose would seem to be slightly lower, his lips thinner, and of course, his scar would be hidden.

The final spell would change his voice; not really higher or lower, just... different. Normal, but not his own.

Three spells on one design would cost ten Galleons; though tipping was hardly customary, Harry included a 'tip' of half that amount extra, hinting of the silence he wanted surrounding his custom. Hutchins was only too happy to comply with his request.

It took an hour to create the tiny image, layered with the enchantments. Harry had to remain still and silent so as not to distract the Witch who muttered incantations under her breath as she lightly dragged what appeared to be a thin black stick over Harry's arm, tracing out the pattern. There was a huge box filled with carefully set out 'sticks' or various colours, included ones that sparkled and glittered, lit up, or even changed colour.

She was obviously an expert, considering the artistry and speed with which she managed the task, and Harry was eminently thankful, especially when she brought out a mirror and he tested the spells. A tap with the nail of his forefinger made the tattoo disappear, and another tap made it come back; a tap with the underside of the forefinger suddenly shifted him into another person, another identity, and another touch brought Harry Potter back.

He left as the other boy and with the tattoo invisible, and walked unnoticed down the street. People were just starting to venture out; there were a fair number of stores open now, though most would open at nine o'clock, in twenty minutes. Harry himself would be meeting Ron and Hermione in the evening, which gave him most of the day to do as he wished.

For the next twenty minutes, he wandered aimlessly down the street, browsing with no real purpose; he was first into Flourish and Blotts when it opened, where he bought his school books; all ten of them. He didn't know how he'd have managed if he wasn't able to charm the bags so they were light and easy to carry.

He ticked them off the school list as he selected them; 'Dark or Light? The Argument', 'An Encyclopaedia of Wizardry', 'A Study of Important Charms', 'The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6)', 'Transfigurations For N.E.W.Ts', 'The Potent Codex', 'Magizoology For N.E.W.Ts', 'The Peacetime Use of Dark Arts' and 'N.E.W.Ts: Your First Year'. He already had 'Apparition: The MOM Authorised Guide'.

After paying for them with Remus' voucher, Harry left the store and spent the next two hours selecting the items he would need; Potions ingredients, normal parchment and ink.

He broke for lunch back at the Leaky Cauldron, putting the books in his room (Tom reluctantly agreed to keep Harry's new appearance undisclosed), and noted that the reporter was back again.

"Working on the Malfoy trial," Tom grunted when Harry asked. "All the contacts and gossip reach Diagon Alley first, before anything happens at the Wizengamot."

Harry felt himself become interested. "Does anyone have any idea what he'll receive?"

"Probably a life-sentence in Azkaban," Tom shrugged as he wiped down the bar. "Can't have the Dementor's Kiss; he'd get that if he were eighteen. There's no way he can get off, not with all the witnesses knowing he put the Imperius on those two girls; that'd get him two life sentences at least, regardless o' the other crimes."

Harry smirked as he thought of Ginny and Hermione. Served Malfoy right.

----------

After lunch, Harry was ashamed to say, he splurged.

Not only did he buy the potion supplies, the stationery, and Hermione's birthday present - two-years subscription to 'Magic' journal, which detailed the latest news, creations and business ventures for Wizarding professionals - but he also went clothes-crazy.

He couldn't really be blamed, Harry defended himself, as he thought of what he'd had to put up with for the last fifteen years. Hand-me-downs from an oversized walrus? Yuk. Now he had the chance to get his own, fitting clothes - and though he hadn't yet ventured into Muggle London, he could happily buy some Wizarding-wear.

He bought five pairs of quality black school robes, and two pairs of casual robes; black and dark-green, respectively. Two pairs of polished black school shoes, one pair of dragonhide boots for Care of Magical Creatures - and dragonhide gloves. He also bought a pair of normal, warm, cotton gloves for the Winter.

A school scarf came next, dark green with black ends; he suspected it was usually Slytherins who bought that colour. He also picked out two black cloaks with silver fastenings; one light for the Summer months, and one heavy with a peaked and drooping hood for Winter.

Passing Madame Malkins, he realised that he was of slightly different stature and musculature from the previous year and that his dress robes were unlikely to fit him any longer. It wouldn't do to find there was another ball this year, and be stuck with dress robes two inches too short, would it?

He had a pair of dress robes off the rack and then specially adjusted, rather than tailor-made; a storm-grey material with a lighter-grey collar. There were a pair of shoes that went with it; the same dark-grey with lighter laces, so he picked those up as well.

It was when he was passing a shop which kitted out Aurors, Magical Law Enforcers, and anyone who rather enjoyed fighting, that Harry again gave in to his shopping-urges. In the window was displayed a long robe; the bottom of which repelled slightly yet unnoticeably away from the ankles, to avoid tripping over and for ease of movement, the sleeves wider at the forearm to put an arm-holster for wands up.

Even better was the material it was made of; the plain, deep black colouring hid interwoven spells and protections that were perfect defences in a fight. Why else were they called Defence-robes?

It absorbed minor curses, hexes and jinxes, and used the absorbed power to enhance its repelling of more powerful spells. It was easy and comfortable to fight in, which made it perfect for Aurors or professional Duelling Champions. It would throw out a kinetic force at anyone who came too close after a short incantation had been said to turn the spell on, and - if the wearer was powerful enough - it could even melt weapons that touched it, whether they were bullets or knives. Extra, specific spells could be added for a cost.

Harry had to have it. It was over a hundred Galleons, and a little more when Harry had some extra spells added - it would now fit him as he grew, a cleaning spell, a self-repairing spell, flame and water-resistance.

The final item Harry bought before he went to meet his friends was the mirror he needed for the daemon-banishing spell. He managed to find the perfect mirror in a small emporium of various items. An onyx frame surrounding a round mirror, two and a half feet in diameter. He had it boxed up so it wouldn't break, and returned to leave the shopping in his room.

By the time he returned downstairs, Hermione had arrived through the entrance from Muggle London, and the last of the Weasleys had just appeared via the Floo network. Mr Weasley wasn't there, but the twins and Ron were already talking with Hermione, and Percy seemed to have come instead of Arthur. Bill and Charlie were out of the country, as far as Harry knew.

Hermione and Ron didn't seem to notice him - but of course, Harry remembered a moment later, he was still under his disguise. The Leaky Cauldron was mostly empty apart from a few people drinking quietly in one of the corners, so Harry slipped over to his friends and tapped the underside of his forearm.

Hermione glanced up as she caught the movement, and her face lit up. Before she could say his name, Harry motioned her to keep quiet, and tapped his arm again to bring the disguise back. As he changed, Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, and waved him over.

"It's Harry, under an illusion spell," he heard her whisper to the others. Mrs Weasley beamed at him even wider than the others as he joined them.

"Sorry about this," Harry said, abashed. "There's a reporter hanging about here usually, and I don't want to be mobbed."

"That's all right," Ron grinned, throwing an arm around Harry's shoulders. "It's good to see you, mate! How have the Muggles been?"

Harry eyed his friend a little warily. He seemed to be dealing remarkably well, considering his little sister had died just over a month ago. "They were... fine," he eventually decided. "How is everyone?"

----------

They enjoyed a leisurely meal together, though not quite as jovial as the ones they had previously shared; Harry could almost feel the weight of Ginny's death overshadowing the light-hearted conversation, though everyone skirted the issue as though it were taboo - which it certainly was.

Mr Weasley, it seemed, had been pulled in to work overtime thanks to the Malfoy Estate; Magical Law Enforcement and Aurors were practically crawling over it as they dragged vile poisons and Dark artefacts out of hidden chambers and safes. They, of course, didn't know that Lucius Malfoy had actually been a spy.

They finished eating at seven o'clock, discussing Harry's 'new look' and their classes for the year. Hermione was taking DADA, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions and Ancient Runes, while Ron was doing the same NEWTs as Harry, except that he was taking Herbology instead of Potions.

"We could get our things tomorrow," Hermione decided as the trio trooped upstairs to their rooms. "I'm staying in Diagon Alley until Thursday, and Ron's leaving late tomorrow. What about you, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm staying here until Saturday. Then, if the Dursleys are in such a bad mood they refuse to let me back in, I'll be staying here until term starts."

Hermione frowned as he said this, and he wondered what she was thinking.

"I've got my school stuff, anyway," Harry added. "So we can get both your things tomorrow and make the most of the day together - and the day after, Hermione."

Ron nodded eagerly, oblivious to Hermione's change of expression. "Yeah, I need to check out Quality Quidditch Supplies," he said enthusiastically. Now that Emma McPollet, the Gryffindor Keeper had left the previous year, Ron would be moving from substitute to full-time Keeper; and now that Angelina, Katie and Alicia had all left, they would have to find a new Captain and Chasers.

As Harry split off from the others to his own room, he shut the bedroom door behind him and groaned at what was sitting on the bed. "Don't even bother having a go at me," he snapped.

Ajax cocked his head. "Oh, what for? Running off and illegally Apparating out of the place you're meant to be without telling anyone - least of all me?"

"I knew you'd make a fuss," Harry retorted. "Look, I've got to convert some cash into Muggle currency. Could you stay here?"

"Do I have any choice?" Ajax purred frostily, sounding like a cat frozen in a bucket of ice. Or something similar.

"Not really," Harry said, looking at him pointedly. "All right, I apologise. It was a bit of a stupid thing to do, I know. It's done though, so why bother worrying about it any more?"

Ajax fluttered his wings rapidly. "Fine. I just thought you ought to know that your Aunt and Uncle have been screaming up and down the house that you're not coming back."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So? I already had a back-up plan of staying at The Leaky Cauldron for the rest of the holiday, anyway."

The bird leaned down and forwards, peering up at Harry with glinting eyes. "You misunderstand me. What I mean is that they're not having you back at all. Ever."

He probably wasn't expecting Harry to whoop with joy.