Friday 8th July

I'm sorry Ginny love I've gone fucked up a lil, haven't I?

So here I am, still in gaol in Catania, surrounded by twitchy members of the Italian magical Carabinieri. Being forced to answer the same question over and over and over again. I get it, I mean it's a valid integration technique. Used it myself before in the past. But you do it when you're operating the assumption the perp (me in this case) is a lying sack of dung.

Unfortunately for all involved, I'm actually telling the truth. What spell did I use to trigger Etna's minor eruption, when I was roughly 85 miles away in an underground cavern in another country? Plain old Incendio.

It was Incendio when I cast it and it still is roughly 24 hours later. Granted it was a very high powered one as a bunch of boggart cum-quasi-dementors where surrounding my oh so grounded sons. But it was an Incendio none the less.

Now, without tooting my own horn, I would have to say over the last 15 or so years I've become an expert in law enforcement integration techniques. The really sneaky integrator ask you questions, by not asking you questions. They know I only cast a single Incendio. The magical forensic boffins would have told them that hours ago. No, they want to know how.

How could Harry Potter, 35, cast a simple spell so powerful, with what looks like a twig, that it triggers a seismic event that kick starts a volcano?

Well, the twig thing is the easy part. It seems since I repaired my wand with the Elder wand and then having kids who love to play with things they shouldn't, has given my wand the ability to act like Godric's sword. Harry's Wand, balls. It kinda comes to me when I need it and has the ability to turn into a stick for people who shouldn't be playing with it. It's the ultimate child proof wand.

So much so that me and George are trying to figure out how it does it, so we can market it to parents. This means as much as I'd like to throw the twitchy little buggers a bone and explain this, I can't. Must protect our intellectual property and all that nonsense.

As oblivious as my wife, the wife's mother, Hermione, Fleur, Gabrielle, Luna… well not Luna, every other female who has ever met me think I am, I'll let you into a little secret. I'm not. I know weird magical things keep happening around me, and it's….er… kinda the point.

The official Harry Potter party line is when I was hit with the second killing curse in the forest that night, I briefly passed on, had a heart to heart with Albus and promptly came back to dispatch Riddle. Well, that did happen. But there was nothing brief about it. Also, Albus wasn't the only one there.

And I'm not allowed to talk about it, the non-magical world has a military term for it. OPSEC.

So here I sit, in a albeit picturesque Sicilian gaol waiting for the whole drama to blow over, I've decided, I'm giving them another hour before I head back to face the wifely music. Sod 'em.