Loose Cannon

by manatee-vs-walrus

Fourteen months after the Battle of Hogwarts, an overheard, off-the-cuff comment turns Harry's life upside-down. Goodbye Auror training, hello Chudley Cannons! And witches ... lots of witches (but no harem). Heaps of dialogue and world-building, and OCs galore. Warning: Many tropes were harmed in the writing of this fic, and Cursed Child never happened. NO MORTAL PERIL.

66. Chapter 66

As predicted, Lydia was delighted when Harry told her about Healer MacAlister's instruction to remain in bed as long as possible the next morning. 'We should probably turn in right after your lesson with Hermione,' she said saucily. 'To maximise your healing.'

'Yes, I'm prepared to spend hours tonight not using my pelvis,' he said in a low voice, close to her. 'I'm told that ingenuity is a Black family trait—perhaps we should test whether I'm worthy of the surname.' Harry emphasised his point physically, but after a minute Lydia pulled away.

'We can't start now, unless you want Hermione to walk in on us again.' Her eyebrows shot up and she exclaimed, 'That wasn't on purpose last week, was it?'

'Merlin no! I have little enough privacy as it is—I don't need spectators. But you're right, we should wait until after our Occlumency session.'

When Hermione arrived at half past seven, Lydia excused herself to the sitting room, and Harry and Hermione went to the library. 'Owen is almost certainly a better teacher than I am,' he said, 'so I'll just repeat what he taught Gemma last week.'

After explaining the difference between close attention, which he likened to Omnioculars, and broad awareness, Harry told Hermione the first steps for training her mind. 'Set a strong intention to rest your attention on the sensations of the breath at your nose. And when you find you've wandered off, just be happy you noticed it and return to the original object.'

'But that's only attention,' said Hermione. 'What about awareness?'

'By rejoicing when you discover you've lost the object, you're training your awareness to notice it in the future. That way it'll become automatic, and eventually you won't forget what you're doing.'

He had her practise with her eyes closed for several minutes, and she quickly grew frustrated. 'I lost it almost right away,' she said afterwards. 'I didn't catch myself for a minute at least.'

'Did you rejoice?' asked Harry.

'No, I was irritated.'

'Gemma has the same problem, and I did too when I was trying to learn Occlumency. The problem with getting irritated when you catch your mind wandering is that you're punishing yourself for noticing it, when you want to train it instead.'

Hermione nodded in understanding. 'So it's as if I wanted to train a cat to catch mice, but then every time he caught a mouse I scolded him for not catching it sooner?'

'Exactly. So your job right now is to pat yourself on the back every time you notice you've wandered off.'

They practised several more rounds, and Harry admitted he lost the object regularly as well. 'But didn't Alistair say you've mastered Occlumency?'

'He did, but that's because I've learnt to move my inner energy from my torso into my head, which not only feels good but also seems to block Legilimency. I don't know why it works, but it does.'

Hermione glared at him. 'This is as bad as sixth-year Potions, when you were using Snape's old textbook to cheat.'

'I'm not cheating. I just don't know how to teach what I'm doing, so I'm giving you Owen's instructions instead.'

'Do you have more instructions tonight, or should I just start practising?'

'Just practise. Owen suggested Gemma practise at home every day for at least half an hour. And if you don't have enough free time on a given day, do at least a few minutes just to keep the habit going.'

'All right,' said Hermione, with a determined expression Harry knew well. 'Is the goal eventually to clear your mind, like Snape taught?'

'Owen says it's not actually necessary to clear your mind, and that anyone who thinks they're clearing their mind is probably just suppressing thoughts.'

'But then how do you keep from being distracted? Or in the case of Occlumency, from allowing someone to pull memories from you?'

'He said it's fine just to let thoughts remain in the background—in peripheral awareness. As long as they don't capture your attention, you can let them be.'

'Is your mind clear when you practise Occlumency?' she asked.

Harry took a moment to consider the question. 'It's quieter than normal. There's an energy that feels a bit like a balloon filling the space, and the background emotion is love.'

'Of course it is—love is your new middle name. But did you feel love when Lydia's father was trying to invade your mind?'

'Yes, but I also felt contempt that he was even trying, when I knew he hadn't any hope of breaking through. He's probably a very accomplished Legilimens, but after learning to withstand Voldemort, there was no way I was going to succumb. Honestly, it was like flicking an insect away.'

She chuckled. 'That sounds like what I call your swagger.'

Feeling a bit sheepish, Harry said, 'I've really become horribly arrogant, haven't I?'

'Yes and no. On the one hand, you're no longer at all downtrodden. Between your clothes and the way you carry yourself, you positively ooze confidence. But other than your obnoxious Seeker moments, you never put other people down. You used to do that in school, particularly with Malfoy, but you don't need to bolster yourself like that anymore.'

'I can't say I like hearing I "ooze" confidence—or anything else for that matter.' She laughed, and Harry continued. 'But seriously, you're making me sound like Lockhart. Am I really that bad?'

'No, not at all. He was smarmy—and a huge fraud—whereas you're completely sincere.'

'That's a relief. But apparently a lot of people were slagging me at the party, and yesterday morning some of the Quidditch players insulted me to my face.'

'They spent the night at your house and then insulted you?'

'Yeah. Variants on the "Harry Toffer" theme.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'They're just jealous.'

'Maybe. But is there something I should be doing differently? I already told Lee and George I'm going to take a break from the radio show for a couple of weeks, unless something new and horrid comes out in the Prophet.'

'That's good, but don't stay off the air forever. Overall it's been beneficial, since Lee and George are so popular, and you've done tremendous good, like with werewolf rights. It hasn't been a week yet, and I've already seen a number of new "FLOOF Certified" logos in shop windows.'

'Really? That's good news. But what about the Harry Toffer thing? I remember how obnoxious Malfoy was about money, and I don't want to be like that.'

'He used to deliberately show off, and put people down! Don't you remember what he used to say to Ron, about how his family lived in a pigsty?'

'You're right, I'd never do that. But was it a mistake to change the way I dress so radically?'

Hermione shook her head. 'You look great in your new clothes, and you deserve to feel good about yourself after being put down for so long. I know Sirius would be delighted to see you this way, once he got over the shock that you like wizarding robes and not, say, motorcycle leathers.'

Harry smirked. 'That would certainly surprise everyone. But no, I don't see that happening.'

'Back to your question, it wasn't a mistake to dress better or host parties, but you did it all very suddenly, and in a way that inadvertently provoked envy.'

He sighed. 'Believe me, I know how envy feels,' he said, recalling Christmas mornings with the Dursleys. 'I'm genuinely sorry if I caused that, but at the same time, I'm not going to stop wearing robes, or pretend I don't live in a townhouse.'

'No, and it wouldn't make a difference anyway.' She paused and said, 'It'll probably help when you and Lydia are no longer together. She may be ruined, but she's still a Travers, and beautiful to boot. She definitely feeds into the Harry Toffer phenomenon.'

'I suppose she does,' he said. 'And then there's the fact that I attended Hogwarts, and that the other schools have been ignored. How should I help promote them?'

Hermione chuckled. 'Don't take this the wrong way, but you sound particularly full of yourself when you say things like "How should I help promote them?"'

'Ugh, you're right. It's like when I suggested to the other Seekers we try to get the Quidditch rules changed. Even though the only reason I did it was because my teammates hassled me about it.'

'I don't know about Quidditch, but when it comes to Britain and the other schools, you're already helping. But you can't solve it singlehandedly—just do the best you can as an individual, and it'll naturally ripple out.'

'I hope so. And I definitely have room for improvement—Gemma told me I'm known for looking through people in public, and I'd like to appear slightly more approachable, at least by children.'

'And by pretty witches,' said Hermione slyly.

'Oh right, I have that reputation as well. And on that note, I should probably kick you out and spend time with Lydia.'

'Go right ahead, pelvis willing. And don't worry too much about the arrogance. After all, you still have the power the Dark Lord knows not.'

'They'll never take that away from me!' cried Harry with mock defiance. 'I don't get to talk to snakes anymore, but by Merlin I'm going to love like there's no tomorrow!'

They parted at the formal fireplace, and Harry went downstairs to find Lydia, who was still reading Pride and Prejudice. 'I no longer think you're like Wickham, even though he turns out to be a seducer. But you're not Mr Darcy either, because he's too good, except for being snobbish.' She paused and added, 'But maybe you're a cross between the two of them.'

Harry was lost, not having read the book, but he smiled appreciatively. 'Do you want to keep reading, or shall we play a round of "Everything but the pelvis?"'

'We should definitely do that,' she said, rising from the sofa. They went upstairs and very successfully navigated around his restrictions before going to sleep.

Harry woke at three o'clock from a nightmare. This one took place in the cellar of Malfoy Manor, where he was being held captive. Initially he had companions—Ron, Luna, and others—but they disappeared one by one until Harry was alone, listening to Bellatrix torturing Hermione. He tried desperately to Apparate without a wand, and he succeeded in reaching the dining room upstairs, which was set for a large party.

Lydia glided into the room, escorted by Draco, only her face was contorted by the Dark Arts sneer. She said, 'Draco, darling, tell the Dark Lord that Potter is here, so we can start the party.' Draco raised his sleeve and touched the Elder Wand to his Dark Mark, and Harry felt searing pain in his scar. And then he was Voldemort, punishing Lydia and Draco for allowing Potter to escape, and her screams rang in Harry's ears as he awoke.

His heart was racing, and in the dim light he saw Lydia sleeping peacefully next to him. He was tempted to awaken her, but instead he snuggled closer in the hope she'd stretch her arm over him. Unfortunately she rolled in the opposite direction, leaving him essentially alone. He tried listening to her breathing, but he couldn't hear her when she was turned away, and the room was silent.

I don't even have city sounds, he thought sadly, because the house was charmed against them. He tried expanding into broad awareness, but it wouldn't come, and he felt very alone. This is how it felt walking down the main staircase at Hogwarts, when I was about to die, he thought, until he realised how melodramatic he was being. Quit whinging, Snitchbottom. You're in bed with a beautiful witch who'll be awake in a few hours.

He finally drifted back to sleep, and the next time he awoke it was light out and Lydia was emerging from the bathroom in her undergarments. 'You're awake!' she said. 'May I send for breakfast? I didn't want Kammy to disturb you.'

'Of course, and I'm sorry you had to wait,' he said. 'But this is a lovely way to start the morning.'

Lydia returned to bed, and before long they both had trays hovering in front of them. His was pewter as usual, and hers was gleaming silver.

'Are you going to keep nicking silver trays from your parents indefinitely?' he asked.

'I'm sure they don't mind, if they even notice it. They'd probably find it reassuring.'

'That you haven't been incurably infected with Middle-Class Magic?' joked Harry.

'Exactly. They'll be relieved I'm not living in squalor like you do.'

They unrolled the newspaper, and at first Harry thought he wasn't on the cover, but there was a box prompting readers to turn to the Letters section for a statement from 'Mothers Against Harry Potter.'

'Ugh, here we go,' he groaned, turning to the page indicated. It said:

We feel compelled to speak out against a growing problem in wizarding Britain: Harry Potter and his harmful influence on our children.

Let us preface our statement by acknowledging our deep appreciation for Potter's service during the war. We are eternally grateful that he freed Britain from You-Know-Who, and we believe he fully deserved to be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class. However, Potter has an ongoing responsibility to serve as a role model, and in this he is failing grievously.

Until just a few months ago, we as mothers had little objection to Potter or his influence on the younger generation. We lamented his decision to drop out of school, but his choice to serve as an Auror seemed to justify it. His occasional outbursts of temper were concerning but still well within the bounds of normal behaviour, and his personal life was beyond reproach.

Unfortunately, that version of Harry Potter is but a distant memory. He is now an unabashed libertine and doesn't even attempt to keep his personal life private. On the contrary, he boasts about his adventures every Tuesday on a radio programme aimed at children. We refrain from repeating his most outrageous statements, but any reader who is curious need only ask a nearby ten-year-old.

'Don't let your children listen to him on the radio,' you might suggest. But with school resuming this week, there is no way to protect our offspring from their classmates, who will be only too glad to tell them what they missed. Furthermore, the radio is not the only source of scandalous revelations. It is impossible to walk past a newsagent's without seeing evidence of Potter's debauchery. This might be acceptable if he were being condemned for flouting wizarding norms, but instead he is celebrated for ushering in an era of post-war decadence.

Don't be fooled by his traditional dress or his airs of gentility: Harry Potter's unrestrained behaviour is a threat to our collective moral fibre. We therefore ask parents to warn their children against following his lead, with a note that the signs of his influence may be subtle. For example, your sons may ask that their school robes be fitted rather than loose, and they may deliberately stop combing their hair. As parents you should stamp out this rebellious behaviour, which can only lead to imitating Potter's more abhorrent vices.

Finally we appeal to Potter directly: Please, consider your effect on the next generation and behave accordingly. There is nothing to stop you from finding a nice witch and marrying her, other than a so-called 'vow' we all recognise as falsehood. As for whom you might marry, we invite you to reevaluate the young witches you've already dallied with and heartlessly spurned.

Again, we have nothing but gratitude for Potter's sacrifice and service during the war, and until recently we encouraged our sons and daughters to admire him. It is our hope therefore that Potter will regain his lost moral footing and once again become a proper role model for the youth of wizarding Britain.

Yours sincerely,

Mothers Against Harry Potter

Harry sank back against the pillows in exasperation. 'Merlin forbid I go ten minutes without someone else coming after me.'

'You're a public figure and you do whatever you like—of course people are going to come after you,' said Lydia.

Harry knew she was trying to help, but he was still irritated. 'So I'm supposed to get married just to keep some old busybodies from getting upset? Which of the women I've heartlessly spurned should I propose to? Are you interested or shall I go down the list chronologically?'

'I shan't marry you,' she said, kissing him on the cheek.

He smiled in spite of himself. 'I should ring Penelope—the Muggle—and shock her senseless by telling her I'm a wizard and that I want to make an honest woman out of her. Or maybe Sophie ... I've had it up to here with uptight Anglo-Saxons! Or Vera, the one who sold her story to Sorceress, even though the reason we shagged all night was because we had nothing to talk about. Helena and Ginny already turned me down, and technically I didn't ruin Vanessa. That just leaves Elizabeth, who was fine but not as interesting as her successors.'

'Harry, you're ranting.'

'You call this a rant? I haven't even started yet! Maybe I should look through the marriage proposals I receive in care of the Cannons, or choose someone from the stands the Saturday. It's a home match, so I'm bound to have some takers. Or wait, I've got it! Romilda Vane! I'm sure she'd marry me in a heartbeat and start calling herself Lady Romilda Black.' He paused, 'Now here's an idea ... I could change my name to Harry Sirius Aquarius Priapus Black and auction myself off at the WORF gala to the highest bidder. I'm certain the Black surname would fetch a good price, if it's not tainted by the Potter associations.'

Lydia just looked at him archly as she ate her breakfast.

'I have a responsibility to serve as a role model, you know. It was in the prophecy, right after the bit about the power the Dark Lord knows not.' He changed his voice to a spooky monotone and said, 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will thenceforth be obligated to serve as a role model, which will either entail getting married at nineteen or sneaking off to portkey brothels like a proper wizard.' He turned to Lydia and asked, 'Do you think I should take my robes back to the tailors to make them baggy, like cloaks? Oh wait, I could just start wearing traditional Wizengamot robes wherever I go, and one of those funny hats. That would definitely get Mothers Against Harry Potter off my back.'

He looked at the letter again and said, 'Why didn't they include their names? What are they trying to hide?' His expression changed, with dawning realisation. 'What if it wasn't written by mothers at all? Maybe Draco Malfoy wrote it! I've heard he's bored stiff under house arrest! Or maybe Fred and George wrote it!'

Harry stopped when he heard himself say it. In a calmer tone, he said, 'I'm sorry, Lydia. I completely lost my temper.'

'You were hilarious, but it's fortunate you weren't on the radio,' she observed.

'Bugger me, the radio! I told Lee and George I wouldn't appear on the broadcast tonight, but I can't just let this go unanswered!'

'Yes you can,' said Lydia. 'They haven't made any new accusations you need to refute.'

'They have so!' he insisted, pointing to the letter. 'They accused me of lying about my vow not to marry until I'm twenty-one.'

'You're right, they did. Was it a magical vow?'

'No, but it still counts—I gave my word. And I certainly didn't make it up like everyone thinks. The only reason I haven't cited Helena is to protect her privacy.'

Lydia looked thoughtful a moment. 'You could go to Gringotts and swear under Veritaserum that you took a vow. Do you remember the date?'

'Yes, the first of August.'

'That should be enough to convince everyone you didn't make it up,' she said.

'All right. Perhaps I'll go there today after practice.' He started eating his breakfast.

After a silence, Lydia asked, 'Who's Fred?'

Harry sighed. 'Fred was George's twin brother. He died in the Battle of Hogwarts. They started the shop together—Lee didn't become a partner until after the war.'

Lydia nodded sadly. 'And what was the power the Dark Lord knows not?'

'Love,' he said sheepishly. 'As opposed to the power to deliver long tirades at the drop of a hat.'

'Love,' she repeated. 'That's perfect.' She stroked his cheek and said, 'Don't be upset about that letter. You'll go to Gringotts and prove you weren't lying, and the rest will blow over. Honestly, this is my fault as much as yours—people wouldn't be so upset if I hadn't demanded you ruin me.'

'Perhaps not, but I don't regret it.'

'Nor do I,' she said affectionately, and they finished eating.

At a quarter to nine, Harry got out of bed and quickly prepared for practice. 'At least I'm cleared to Apparate. And tomorrow I can fly again. That's probably why I'm so grouchy, come to think of it—I never go this long anymore without flying.'

He arrived at the Cannons training grounds just as his teammates were about to start running. 'Snitchbottom!' cried Janet. 'How's the pelvis?'

'Not bad. How's yours?'

'You'll have to ask Ron,' she said saucily.

'So you're still together? You haven't cursed each other to smithereens yet?'

'No, but we had a new argument at the party, and I'm still angry.'

'Oh dear, what happened?'

'George's girlfriend Rebecca asked why I hadn't yet been to Sunday dinner at the Burrow.'

Harry winced. 'Had you heard yet about Sunday dinner at the Burrow?'

'I had not, and I'm angry at you as well.'

'What, for not telling you about it? That's not my job.'

'Of course it is—you're my Weasley informant. You're practically one of them, after all.'

'Not anymore. I haven't seen Ron's parents since the match against the Arrows. But apparently they still think they have the right to criticise me like family—I get all sorts of concerned messages by way of Ron and George.'

'Do you reckon Molly is a Mother Against Harry Potter?' she asked.

Harry sighed, 'Don't get me started ... I already gave Lydia an earful.'

Janet left to start running, and Harry went to see Healer MacAlister. 'Have you been following orders?' asked the Healer.

'Yes, no Apparating until this morning. And no activities that put strain on the area.'

MacAlister raised an eyebrow and said, 'I'll be the judge of that.' He instructed Harry to lie down on the examining table and performed various diagnostic charms. 'You're doing well. I'd tell anyone else they could sit a broom this afternoon, but I don't trust you to take it easy.'

Harry inhaled sharply. 'Please, may I? I really miss flying.' He realised he'd widened his eyes the way Lydia accused him of doing, and he did his best to stop.

'All right, but not on a racing broom.'

'Bugger, my broom is broken! I completely forgot,' exclaimed Harry. 'But yes, of course, I can use a boring broomstick today, assuming they have one.'

MacAlister directed Harry to the weight room, where one of the trainers was waiting, but Harry stopped at Lara's desk first. 'What happened to my broomstick?'

'Er, you broke it,' she said cautiously. 'Don't you remember?'

'Yes, I remember—what I meant to ask was whether you've replaced it yet. But you've given me an idea ... do you still have the pieces?'

'Yes, I'm planning to owl them to Silver Arrow today. It's standard practice whenever a broom fails, so they can analyse what went wrong.'

'It was struck by a Bludger,' said Harry. 'There's no mystery.'

'What are you getting at?' she asked.

'I thought we could see if WORF wants to auction it off next month.'

'That's a good idea! I'm sure Silver Arrow won't miss it, as long as you don't switch to some other broomstick and say they failed you. You want another Silver Arrow, right?'

'Yes, definitely.'

'That's good, because they already sent one, along with a fruit basket.' Harry looked around the room and Lara added, 'Sorry, we ate it yesterday. But I can send you a new one from the team if you like.'

'No, that's fine. And is there a boring broomstick I can use today? MacAlister says I can fly if I take it slow.'

'Yes, we have heaps of them in the shed. I'll find you something suitably glacial.'

Harry spent the next few hours in the weight room with a trainer, and afterwards he looked in on Mrs Thwip. When he handed her his stack of correspondence and signed photographs, she nodded with an expression bordering on approval. 'Thank you, Mr Potter. Apparently we need to hit you with a Bludger the next time you fall behind.'

'Merlin, I hope not!' he exclaimed. 'But on a different subject ... just how much hate mail have I received recently in the "Loose morals" category?'

'Not as many this week as last week,' she said.

'That's good, I guess. But do you think my injury played a role in the decrease?'

'I doubt it. Several of the letter-writers said your injury was divine retribution, and one suggested that your mother orchestrated it, to teach you how to behave.'

By playing 'Everything but the pelvis?' thought Harry. 'Are there any other trends in hate mail I should know about?'

'No, but you received a certificate of appreciation from the Wizarding Horticultural Society.'

'Because I like flowers?'

'Yes, and because you've sown interest in flowers amongst the younger generation.'

Harry was touched. 'That was very kind of them. Could you add that to my take-home stack so I can send a personal reply?'

'Of course. And you also received an invitation to join a private gentlemen's club.'

'A private gentlemen's club? What does that even mean?'

'Perhaps their letter could explain it best,' she said, using her wand to float the letter from a distant pile into Harry's hand.

Dear Mr Potter,

First, please accept my best wishes for a speedy recovery. Injuries are always unpleasant, but for an energetic young wizard such as yourself it must be particularly trying.

I am writing on behalf of the membership committee of the august institution known simply as Pratt's. Through no fault of your own, you are probably not familiar with Pratt's, but I'm certain your father and godfather would have known about wizarding Britain's oldest and most exclusive gentlemen's club. Generations of Potters and Blacks have been members, and it is our sincere hope that you follow in their footsteps.

You may be surprised to learn that so-called Dark and Light families mingle freely within our walls, but at Pratt's we leave our affiliations in the vestibule and interact solely as men of the world. As male wizards we have a wealth of common interests, which serve as a basis for lively interactions and decades-long friendships. And rest assured that our premises are warded against harmful curses, lest tempers flare under the influence of the finest spirits and elf-made wines.

One of the things that distinguishes Pratt's from upstart gentlemen's clubs is our unique location on the intersection of two ley lines, which permits smooth transport to a particularly welcoming institution in France. But this is by no means all that Pratt's has to offer. For many of our members, Pratt's is a 'home from home,' offering respite from the irritants present in even the happiest of households. Many a young father has come to cherish their stolen hours at Pratt's, away from the cares of domesticity.

Normally we don't offer membership to wizards younger than twenty-one; young wizards normally accompany their fathers starting at age seventeen, but this was tragically not possible in your case. For centuries, wizards have ushered in their majority with a nighttime visit to Pratt's, and we regret that numerous intervening circumstances prevented you from enjoying this rite of passage.

We invite you to visit Pratt's at your leisure to see for yourself whether you wish to become a member. Please owl us in advance so we know to expect you. The only rules you need know are that women are not permitted, and that proper wizarding attire is required. Naturally you have no concerns on this latter point, and you may find like-minded wizards amongst our members. We also ask for your discretion, as membership and club activities are seldom discussed in public.

Yours respectfully,

Silas Yawton

Harry could hardly process what he'd just read. 'Mrs Thwip, are you familiar with Pratt's?'

'Yes, Mr Potter. Although obviously I've never been there.'

'Is it a portkey brothel?'

'No. I'm told that their location allows travel to France without the use of portkeys.'

Harry looked at her. 'Just to be clear, the only word you're objecting to in that phrase is "portkey."'

'That's correct.'

Holding up the letter, he said, 'My inclination is to ignore it, but they claim that Dark and Light wizards mingle freely there. Do you know if that's true?'

'There have been exceptions, like during the final year of the last war. But otherwise yes, Pratt's is known for uniting wizards from opposing factions.'

'Are there other clubs like this? It sounds like there are, only they require portkeys for ... international travel.'

'There are newer and less exclusive clubs, but I'm told that Pratt's membership is the most coveted.'

Harry shook his head in bewilderment. 'I have no idea whether that's good or bad. On the one hand, it might be useful to mix with important wizards, but on the other hand it's more of the same elitism. Have I been invited to join any of the other clubs?'

'No. I'm under the impression that club membership often correlates with schools.'

And Pratt's is probably warded, or maybe even potioned, thought Harry. 'Thank you, Mrs Thwip. May I assume you won't talk about this to anyone else?'

'That would be highly unprofessional, Mr Potter.'

'Thank you. You certainly deserve your reputation for being the best.'

He heard his teammates gathering for lunch, so he excused himself. 'Snitchbottom!' came the cries, and Harry felt absurdly happy as he accompanied them to the pub.

'So, what's this about mothers hating you?' asked Suresh. 'Is it just Lydia's mum, or have all your spurned would-be mothers-in-law banded together?'

'I have no idea,' replied Harry. 'For all I know it's one of you lot.'

'How can you accuse us, your teammates, of such treachery?' exclaimed Janet. 'We'd never malign you under a pseudonym!'

'Except maybe for Cannons Against Harry Potter, but hopefully it'll never come to that,' said Gary.

'What are you going to do about it,' asked Renée. 'Will you write a statement, or just address it on the radio tonight?'

'I wasn't planning to do the broadcast tonight, or next week either,' replied Harry.

'Why not? It's the most popular show in Britain,' said Suresh.

'That's just it ... Hermione pointed out that I'm becoming overexposed, and she's right. I should give people a break.'

'But you aren't on the show for self-promotion,' argued Renée. 'You use it to clear up misconceptions, and to promote good causes.'

'Do you think people realise that? I'm getting the impression a lot of people think I'm in love with the sound of my own voice.'

'Are you referring to people at the party?' asked Suresh.

'Yeah. I heard multiple reports about "Harry Toffer," and I was insulted in person as well.'

Suresh shook his head dismissively. 'They're just jealous, and it was only a handful of them. I think it died down when you and Lydia disappeared, and they could get busy finding their own partner for the night.'

'Which brings us back to Mothers Against Harry Potter,' said Janet. 'You have to appear on the radio tonight, or else people will think those old cows intimidated you.'

'Bugger, I hadn't thought of that,' said Harry. 'And at the very least I'd like to defend myself against the accusation that I lied about the vow.'

'I still can't believe that was real,' remarked Ryan. 'I know it's true, but it sounds so much like a lie.'

'Lydia suggested I go to Gringotts and testify under Veritaserum that it's a real vow.'

'You could do that on the air,' said Janet. 'George and Lee would gladly cover the cost, for the glory of broadcasting it.'

'Are you insane? I can't take Veritaserum on the radio! For one thing, Kingsley Shacklebolt would have a heart attack.'

'You'd only have to answer one question,' argued Janet. 'You could take the antidote right afterwards.'

Dumbstruck, Harry shook his head repeatedly. 'It would remove all doubt,' said Renée, and the others nodded.

'But Veritaserum! What if I start spilling secrets spontaneously?'

'Can't they use the delay?' asked Janet.

'No,' said Ryan. 'The in-store audience would still hear.'

'So have Lee use a Silencing Charm on the booth temporarily, and let the audience listen to the radio version instead,' proposed Gary. 'I'm sure they can tolerate a delay for a minute or so.'

'That would work,' acknowledged Harry. 'But I can't believe I'm considering this.'

'Are there any other misconceptions you want to clear up while you're at it?'

'You mean give Lee and George a list of questions?'

'Yeah, why not?' said Gary. 'Loads of people still think you leaked that story about quitting the Ministry and joining the Cannons.'

'Or that you're lying when you claim the Blacks squandered their fortune,' added Suresh.

'And that you fancy men as well as women, in spite of your denials,' said Janet.

'Hang on, I haven't even heard some of these rumours,' replied Harry.

Suresh pulled out his notebook, and together they compiled a list of persistent rumours and lies surrounding Harry.

'This is actually a great opportunity to prove your detractors wrong,' observed Ryan.

'I know,' said Harry. 'I'm sort of looking forward to it.'

When they returned to the Cannons training facility, Harry wrote a short letter to Lee and George and asked Lara to send it by express owl. 'What a brilliant idea!' she exclaimed. 'You can finally prove you wrestled that giant squid.'

Harry looked at Lara in disbelief, and she said, 'Just kidding.'

He spent a very agreeable, if tame, hour on a Comet 240 Lara had unearthed. 'I couldn't do a proper feint if I tried,' he told Gemma as they practised spotting a modified Snitch.

'Welcome to my Quidditch career prior to last year, when I bought my Firebolt.'

'Really, you flew a Comet 240?'

'No, I had a Comet 220. The 240 was the improved version.' Smirking, she asked, 'Is it true your professor gave you a Nimbus 2000 the day after your first flying lesson?'

'Nice try, but I'm not going to repeat my tirade from Saturday.'

'But I heard it was brilliant! I can't believe I missed it—I was right outside the library, on the landing. But at least I got a first-hand reenactment.'

'Are you saying it evolved over time?' asked Harry, concerned.

'I don't think it did, actually. There was really nowhere for it to go—it was already perfect. And don't worry, everyone thought it was fantastic.'

'Did they call me Harry Toffer?'

'A few did, but I told them I'm the only one who can call you that.'

'That's true—feel free to use it whenever Snitchbottom doesn't fit the occasion. By the way, a lot of people asked me about you on Saturday. You impressed the hell out of everyone, catching the Snitch your first day out.'

'Yeah, that was good timing. It made me feel a bit less anonymous, with the entire Quidditch league there. Before the match I was afraid I'd be ignored, or that people would only ask me about you.'

'I'm glad that wasn't the case.'

'No, they all asked me about you. But they congratulated me first for catching the Snitch.'

Harry sat out the practice match, which Gemma played against Bruce. He was glad for the opportunity to catch up with Owen, who was paying close attention to the match but was still free to talk.

'Is Jill feeling better?' asked Harry.

'Yes, she's fine now. I'm sorry she couldn't make it—she would have had a good time.'

'I'm sorry too, but I enjoyed talking with Fiona.'

Owen lowered his Omnioculars and faced Harry. 'Leave her alone.'

'I'm sorry, what?'

'Don't toy with her. She's not a one-night stand.'

'I didn't toy with her,' said Harry, irritated. 'We mainly talked about WORF.'

'Was that when you gave her a flower?' asked Owen pointedly.

'What are you talking about? I didn't give her a flower ... Oh, you mean my boutonnière? She mentioned she liked jasmines, so I gave it to her for a moment so she could smell it. It's not as if I stood under her window with a red rose.'

'Harry, I saw you with her, and you were clearly flirting.'

'I'm sorry if you got that impression, or if she did. I mean yes, we all know I find her attractive, since I blurted it out last time, but I wasn't deliberately flirting with her.'

'Keep it that way. I'm serious—she's not one of your flings.'

Annoyed, Harry asked, 'Should I tell her I won't attend the WORF auction? I don't want to give her the wrong impression by standing in the same room with her.'

'Treat her like you'd treat our teammates, or Lara. And I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest you were trying to seduce her. But I think you're still learning how to interact with new acquaintances, and your default behaviour with women is to turn on the charm.'

Harry sighed. 'You may be right—I have no idea. It was all so much easier when I was with Ginny. I loved her and nobody else even caught my eye. But now I'm under strict orders to play the field, and I have accidental Light magic on top of that. So I might unconsciously be trying to charm women I'm attracted to.'

'I'm glad you can recognise it,' said Owen. 'Not everyone is that self-aware.'

'Right, but can you tell me exactly why Fiona is off limits? I know she's a widow with a child, but does that mean she's off the market forever?'

'Of course not. But she's very vulnerable. She and Rob started dating in school, and we all knew they'd get married one day. They were true soulmates, from what I could tell.'

'How did he die?'

'It was a few months before the war ended, in early spring. He was a pure-blood, but he didn't support Voldemort and was trying to undermine his power base.' Harry raised an eyebrow, and Owen said, 'He worked in the Department of Mysteries. He was convinced you were the only one who could stop Voldemort directly, but he thought there might be a way to weaken the Death Eaters in general. That's all we know.'

'What do you mean, that's all you know? How did he die?'

'The head Unspeakable told Fiona he died, and that the details were secret. She received a box with his belongings, including his wand, and that was it.'

'Are you certain he's dead?'

'As far as we can tell, yes. They tried the usual methods, like owling him or sending a Patronus, and they also performed location spells using hair samples and his wand.'

'And that was a year and a half ago?'

Owen nodded. 'For about six months Fiona was like a ghost. She took care of Matthew but otherwise she was vacant. There, but not there. Jill and I tried to help as much as we could, and so did our friends, but to be honest she pushed a lot of them away. Jill was persistent, and our kids have always played together—Matthew is only a year older than the girls—so we were able to stay close with her. But she still hasn't reconnected with most of our old friends. They were frustrated that she rejected their help, and subsequently she felt hurt that they weren't there when she needed them. I know it sounds paradoxical, but that's the situation.'

'No, I understand completely,' said Harry. 'When Voldemort returned and Cedric died, everyone had their own ideas about how I should feel, but they were wrong, so I raged at them continuously and did my best to drive them away. And meanwhile, I felt like nobody was there for me.' Harry's throat tightened, but he took a deep breath and expanded into awareness.

'That sounds similar to Fiona, only I suspect you shouted a lot more.'

'You know me too well,' admitted Harry.

'She started working part-time at WORF last autumn, and it's been good for her. She made some new friends, and she sees that she's not alone in her suffering. But she's still fairly isolated—I don't think she sees her work friends outside of the office, so it's mostly just Jill and me, and some of her relations.'

'Is she able to make ends meet? Or did she have to move in with her family?'

'No, she was all right. Rob was from an old family, and he left her enough to get by. No townhouse or elf, but enough.'

'Has she dated at all since he died?'

'No. Jill was delighted when you came onto her at your first party, because Fiona was convinced she was a fossil. But she's only recently started coming back to life, and I don't want you or anyone else to treat her casually and cause her to shut down again.'

'I understand. But what does she want?'

'She doesn't confide in me, but Jill says she'd eventually like to marry again and have more children.'

'And I'm currently not that person,' said Harry.

'No. And why should you be? You just turned nineteen, and you're recovering from your own trauma.'

Harry wasn't convinced Fiona wouldn't benefit from a fling, but he nodded and told Owen he'd try to be more mindful around witches.

They turned their attention to the match, and Harry asked, 'How do you think Gemma's coming along? Other than catching the Snitch on Saturday, of course.'

'It was great for her confidence, but her spotting still needs a lot of work. You took to the method quickly because of all your past experience, but I'd have been surprised if she'd picked it up that fast. So that leaves her between two shores—I want her to break the Omniocular habit, but her awareness isn't nearly as developed as yours or mine is.'

'So I'm not out of a job yet?' joked Harry.

'No, the Knight Bus will have to wait. The good news is that she can still win matches, because she's so fast. But we need to start taunting her hard. She was blindsided by Wainwright, and I think she still has a lot of vulnerable spots. And I hate to suggest it, but you're in a good position to exploit them.'

'Me? How?'

'She feels like an outsider in the wizarding world. Having her wand snapped and living as a Muggle for a year really did a number on her, on top of being Muggle-born and raised by a single mum. Between your fame and your overall standing in wizarding society, you can really pound on her weak spots.'

'No, I can't do that,' protested Harry. 'It's one thing with rival Seekers, since they're all starters and well-established. But you're asking me to be cruel to someone who's genuinely vulnerable. Please, isn't there some other way?'

'It won't be one-sided. I've already pointed out some of your weak spots, and she's sharp—I'm certain she'll find more.'

Harry sighed. 'If you say so. But don't be surprised if she ends up liking Tuttle better than you.'

Owen chuckled and said, 'I have no problem with that, Snitchbottom.'

The match ended with Bruce catching the Snitch, to Gemma's dismay. 'Keep training your awareness,' Owen told her. 'You'll get through this phase—I promise. And in the meantime you get to insult Harry tomorrow.'

When Harry returned to the building after practice, Lara gave him the reply from Lee. 'Brilliant idea! By the time you read this, I'll have set up a silencing system on the booth, and George will have arranged things at Gringotts. Our next step will be to paper Diagon Alley with signs about tonight's broadcast, which I know will be the stuff of legend. See you tonight!'

'I guess I'm doing this,' he told Lara. 'Wish me luck.'

Harry went straight home to Grimmauld Place, where Lydia immediately thrust a poster in front of him. At first glance it looked like his old 'Undesirable Number One' poster, only the headline screamed, 'Veritaserum - Live Broadcast,' with Harry's name and the details below. It even used the same photograph, with his eyeglasses.

Lydia shook the poster frantically. 'I said go to Gringotts, not on the radio!'

'I know, but my teammates talked me into it, and I think it's a good idea.'

'A good idea to take Veritaserum on the radio? I know you hardly have any secrets left, but that doesn't mean you have to forcibly pry them out!'

Harry described the plan to her, and she calmed down considerably. 'Oh, that's a good idea. May I see the list of questions?'

He showed it to her, and she even added one. 'I'm sorry to frighten you like that,' he said. 'I didn't realise they'd poster all of Diagon Alley with it.'

'Actually I saw this in Manchester. I think Lee and George hired people to spread the word.'

Harry ran his hands through his hair and exhaled sharply. 'It's not the craziest thing I've done, not even close,' he said, mostly to himself.

'Yes, you broke into Gringotts and Imperiused my uncle. And then you used a Disarming Charm on the Dark Lord. This probably isn't even in the top ten.'

They were seated on the sofa, and he showed her the letter inviting him to join Pratt's. 'They invited you to join, and you're not even twenty-one?' she exclaimed. 'You have no idea what an honour that is. Charles didn't receive his invitation until at least a month after his birthday, and Esme said he was a bundle of nerves the entire time.'

'For a gentlemen's club? That seems extreme.'

'Pratt's isn't just a club, it's the ruling elite. There have even been Ministers of Magic who weren't invited to join Pratt's—those are generally the ones who can't get any legislation passed.'

'Are you implying that Kingsley Shacklebolt is a member?'

'I don't think he is, actually, but I don't know for sure. Charles tells Esme next to nothing.'

'But Kingsley passed plenty of legislation,' argued Harry.

'It was right after the war,' she said dismissively. 'My grandfather said Shacklebolt could have proposed a law revoking the Statute of Secrecy and naming himself King of England and those toadies would have passed it. Everyone who'd tacitly collaborated during the war but hadn't been charged with a crime wanted to prove how Light and forward-thinking they were.'

'So are you saying I should join this club?'

'Oh, no, you'd hate it! It's a bunch of rich and powerful wizards trying to get richer and gain more power.'

'But the letter says, "Generations of Potters and Blacks have been members." I can believe it about the Blacks, but not the Potters.'

'No family is perfect, or perfectly consistent. You don't have any relations, so you don't know just how varied they can be. The Weasleys, for example—are they all alike?'

'No, you're right. In fact, Ron and George's brother Percy would be a perfect candidate for Pratt's. Do you know whether any Weasleys belong?'

'Only if they're rich—Pratt's membership costs a fortune.'

'So should I just have Mrs Thwip reply and say "Thanks but no thanks?"'

'Are you kidding? You have to go there!'

'But you just said I'd hate it,' protested Harry.

'You need to go there and tell me about it. And then I can tell Esme, and she'll talk to me again. Although I suspect she'll want to visit me the moment Charles turns his back. They probably both bought Sorceress in secret and she'll have any number of questions, particularly if she's had a glass of wine first.'

'Are you sure I should go? I mean, is Charles likely to be there, or your father or grandfather?'

'They might be, but it won't matter. Wizards set arguments aside there, generally speaking, and their biggest problem with you is that you're influential but you don't respect wizarding traditions. So if you turn up at Pratt's, they'll be relieved, because it means you'll eventually toe the line.'

Harry sighed. 'Do you want me to go to the brothel as well? I refuse to have sex with a prostitute. And really, it's hardly necessary.'

'They're not prostitutes, they're filles de joie. And of course it's not necessary for you—there's no end of witches who want you, particularly after that article. But with filles de joie you're paying for discretion.'

'No wonder they invited me to join,' remarked Harry. 'They're trying to stop me from upending wizarding Britain with all my indiscreet shagging.'

'Exactly! When can you go?'

'Thursday?'

'Yes, please. And then come straight to my flat and tell me all about it, including the brothel.'

'Shouldn't I shower first?' joked Harry.

She swatted him and insisted he owl them his reply. 'You can use your new stationery and one of the jackdaws. They'll be very impressed, and they might believe you actually want to join. What are you going to wear?'

'Something that comes off easily,' he smirked, and she swatted him again.

After dinner they went upstairs and she chose his robes for the radio broadcast. 'None of these boutonnieres are right,' she declared, 'but I'll make you one from a white chrysanthemum downstairs—they signify truth. I'll have to shrink it a bit, but that's fine.'

Once outfitted, Harry travelled by Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, which was more crowded than usual. 'Are you really going to take Veritaserum on the radio?' asked a young witch.

'Yes. I intend to set the record straight on a number of subjects, starting with my vow not to propose marriage before I'm twenty-one. I'm tired of being accused of lying.'

'Are you sure you trust them?' asked a wizard.

'Lee and George? Absolutely.'

'That's good, because they could ruin your life tonight.'

'Probably not,' replied Harry. 'I hardly have any secrets left, and all of those concern the war. They're classified, but I wouldn't be in danger if they came out.'

'We'll all be listening,' said the wizard. 'And good luck!'

As Harry walked to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes he noticed large crowds at all the pubs he passed. 'Demand is huge,' said George as he ushered Harry inside. 'The shop has been packed solid for the last hour.'

'I honestly hadn't intended to create this big a stir. I just wanted to clear up misconceptions.'

'I understand that,' replied George, 'but Lee always talks about the particular magic of live broadcasts, and this is a perfect example. The fact that anything could come out of your mouth is just too enticing. And I've heard the bookmakers have all sorts of odds on which questions you won't answer, since that's basically an admission.'

'Blimey, you're right! Do you have a list?'

'We most certainly do. But first, may I introduce my new goblin friend, Dirk.'

Harry had never met a goblin with such a human-sounding name. 'It's nice to meet you, Dirk,' he said with a curt nod. 'Thank you for helping us on short notice.'

'Gringotts values honesty as well as valour,' replied Dirk, with a shallow bow.

George led Harry into the booth, where Lee reassured him he'd worked out the charms. 'I won't bore you with the details, but we'll start the broadcast the normal way, and then when you're ready to take Veritaserum we'll silence the booth completely, and the audience will just listen on the radio. Afterwards we can switch back. That means that if you reveal anything classified or horribly embarrassing, we can use the delay. And then George and I can blackmail you privately, at leisure.'

Harry nodded. 'Fair enough. Can we go over the questions? Lydia came up with a new one since I sent you the list, and I want to see what the bookmakers have.'

Lee passed Harry a sheet of paper, which Harry reviewed. 'Classified ... Classified ... Are you kidding me? Why would anyone want to know that? ... Classified ... Oh, for Merlin's sake.' He crossed out several questions and handed back the list, along with Lydia's question.

George looked it over. 'This is tremendous. You're a true Gryffindor.'

'I'm just telling the truth. I'm delighted if it means people will believe me.'

'Right, but let's establish some ground rules,' said Lee. 'Have you ever taken Veritaserum before?'

'No.'

'So we don't know whether you're the chatty type or more taciturn.'

'We don't, but I've been known to get chatty while drunk, so keep your finger near the delay.'

'About that ... as long you haven't revealed something classified, or mortifyingly personal, would you be willing to allow the occasional slip?'

George added, 'I realise this is a huge act of trust on your part, so it's all right to say no. But you should be aware that Fred may be watching from the great beyond, and he would be very disappointed by your lack of faith in Lee and myself.'

'Did you just play the dead twin card?' asked Harry, incredulous.

'Yes. And I'm certain Fred would approve.'

Harry thought for a moment. 'I'll trust you to decide whether to broadcast any unplanned slips. But I also reserve the right to hex you later.'

'That's fair,' replied George.

Lee raised his pocket watch. 'Thirty seconds.'

Harry sipped water as they waited, and George asked, 'After the Veritaserum segment, do you want to discuss Mothers Against Harry Potter?'

'No, I gave Lydia an earful this morning, and it definitely wasn't suitable for broadcast.'

'Are you sure? We could give you a Calming Draught first.'

'Nice try, but no. I only want to respond to their accusation of lying.'

Lee counted down on his fingers and the broadcast began. 'Good evening listeners! My name is Lee Jordan, and my comrade George and I would like to welcome you to a very special episode of Weasley's Wizard Wireless. And without further ado, we'll introduce our exceptionally brave guest, Harry Potter.'

The crowd applauded wildly, and Harry said, 'No nicknames this week? Have you run out?'

'Not even close, my friend. We just didn't want to delay the moment everyone is waiting for. But first, your Patronus please.'

'Right, I'll send it to Hermione, who's probably white-knuckled with terror. Expecto Patronum!'

The glowing stag leapt from Harry's wand, and Harry said, 'Prongs, would you please take this message to Hermione? Hermione, I'm so sorry to put you through this, but it'll be over soon. And if it all goes wrong, blame Ryan, since he's one of the people who talked me into it.' He waved Prongs away with his hand, and the stag flew off.

'Excellent,' announced George. 'Harry has proven his identity, although I suppose we could have saved time by asking him his name under Veritaserum. Speaking of which, we'd like to invite Gringotts representative Dirk into the booth to provide the potions.'

George opened the door and directed Dirk to a step stool, which allowed the goblin to speak into the microphone and see the audience.

'Dirk, would you be so kind as to introduce yourself and state your business?' asked Lee.

The goblin cleared his throat. 'My name is Dirk and I'm a junior account specialist at Gringotts. I'm here to provide Veritaserum Potion and its antidote, and to vouch for their authenticity.' He raised two small bottles and said, 'The red bottle contains Veritaserum, which was tested for efficacy this afternoon. Gringotts can unequivocally state that it's genuine Veritaserum and that whatever Mr Potter says under its influence is completely truthful. And the blue bottle is the antidote.'

'Thank you,' said George. 'And before we proceed, I'd like to explain to our audience what in the hell we're doing.' He waited for the audience to stop laughing and then continued. 'Harry is not, as you might imagine, a complete idiot, which means we'll be asking him questions from an approved list. We also have a broadcast delay, which we'll use if Harry reveals something classified, or hideously embarrassing.'

'Harry,' began Lee, 'you have to admit this is more insane than your usual behaviour. Would you care to tell us why you're doing it?'

'Yes. I'm tired of being accused of lying all the time, when in fact I'm a very truthful person. In this morning's Prophet, a group called Mothers Against Harry Potter accused me of lying about my vow not to propose marriage before I'm twenty-one. But it's true and I'd like to prove it, and also address other longstanding rumours.'

'Thank you,' said Lee. 'Before we proceed, I should tell our in-store audience that this week they won't be able to hear everything Harry says ... I know, I know,' he said when the audience started booing. 'We'd have loved to reveal all his secrets, but he knows way more about Voldemort than you ever want to hear, so really, we're doing this for your own good. Which means our in-store audience will listen to the radio broadcast on a delay, just like everyone at home. However, they'll have the privilege of watching Harry as he spills intimate secrets to thousands of strangers.'

Lee performed a series of charms, and the shop assistant turned on the radio. 'Wave when you hear this,' announced Lee. 'And now we'll wait thirty seconds for our in-store audience to hear it. But in the meantime, let's ask Harry about his pelvis. How are you feeling?'

'I'm almost fully healed. I even flew this afternoon, on a laughably slow broomstick, and tomorrow I'm cleared to fly normally.'

'I understand you broke your Silver Arrow on Saturday. Will your new broom be the same model, or are you going to try something else?'

'I'm sticking with the Silver Arrow,' replied Harry. 'Even though my teammates swinishly ate the fruit basket they sent me yesterday.'

The audience members started waving, and Lee said, 'The charms worked! Which means our in-store audience won't find out why Harry, Ron, and Hermione broke into Gringotts.' Dirk scowled, and Lee added, 'Oops, I should not have mentioned that. But anyway, it's truth serum time! Dirk, would you please confirm that Harry takes the proper dose?'

George measured three drops of Veritaserum into a teaspoon, under Dirk's watchful eye, and Harry swallowed it. 'Gringotts confirms that Mr Potter just received a full dose of Veritaserum.'

Harry relaxed visibly, and Lee said, 'Please tell us your name.'

'Which one?' replied Harry.

'Do you have more than one?'

'Yes. I have my birth name and the name on the Black family tapestry.'

'Let's start with your birth name.'

'Harry James Potter.'

'And the tapestry name?'

'Harry James Black.'

'Did you or anyone else tamper with the tapestry to make it display your name that way?'

'No. All we did was repair the scorched sections.'

'Very good. Next question: Were you asked to take a vow not to propose marriage before you turn twenty-one.'

'It wasn't strictly a vow, but it was a sincere promise.'

'Did you make that promise?'

'Yes.'

'When?'

'August the first.'

'Have you ever been romantically involved or had intimate relations with Hermione Granger.'

'No, she's like a sister to me.'

'Have you ever had intimate relations of any kind with George's brother Ron.'

'No.'

'Did you break the Elder Wand?'

'Yes, after repairing my original wand.'

'Did you enter your name in the 1994 Triwizard Tournament.'

'No, I had no idea how my name was entered until after the third task.'

'Ha!' shouted George. 'I told you so!'

'Who are you talking to?' asked Lee.

'Oh, he knows,' said George ominously.

'Returning to the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, did you kill Cedric Diggory?'

'No. Voldemort ordered Peter Pettigrew to kill him.'

'Thank you!' exclaimed George. 'Another longstanding rumour is dispelled.'

'Harry, were you the Heir of Slytherin?'

'No.'

'Did you ever wrestle the giant squid in the Black Lake at Hogwarts?'

'No.'

'Have you wrestled any other giant squids?'

'No.'

'Were you raised by immortal warlocks?'

'No.'

'Listeners,' said Lee, 'this concludes the relatively tame portion of our list. We will now advance to what might be called "the juicy questions," some of which were provided by our friends in the bookmaker community ... Harry, how many sex partners have you had? There's been wild speculation on the topic.'

'Intercourse?' asked Harry.

'Yes.'

'Er, seven. First was Ginny ...'

'No names!' cried Lee and George in unison, and Lee poised his finger over the delay rune.

'Next question,' he said hastily. 'Have you ever paid for sex?'

'No. Although I took Penelope shopping and we stayed at a posh hotel on the second night. But that was my idea, not hers.'

'Is Penelope a witch?' asked Lee, reaching again for the delay rune.

'No, she's a Muggle.'

Lee relaxed. 'Was the article in Sorceress true?'

'No,' replied Harry, prompting gasps from Lee and George. 'I didn't wake her up on purpose for more sex.'

'Don't frighten me like that,' said George. 'Was the rest of the article true?'

'Yes.'

'Six times in one night? Really?'

'Yes.'

'Do you actually know how to cook breakfast? She said you claimed you were too knackered to cook.'

'Yes, I know how to cook breakfast. I was raised by Muggles.'

'Right, but do you actually ever cook anymore?'

'When Kreacher lets me.'

'Listeners, Kreacher is Harry's somewhat domineering house-elf. Harry, do you normally take breakfast in bed?'

'Not unless someone's with me, or I'm sore from practice, or injured. Kreacher was tremendously helpful when I was in the wheelchair,' said Harry. 'And now he shaves me!'

Sniggering, Lee reached for the delay rune. 'Where does he shave you?'

'In the master bathroom.'

'No, what parts of your body does he shave?'

'My face.'

Lee and George looked at each other and nodded, and Lee withdrew his finger from the rune.

'Returning to the Sorceress article ... Do you keep your Order of Merlin medal on the bedside table?'

'No. It's in a drawer.'

'Did you leak the story yourself?'

'No.'

'Did you leak the story to the Prophet about quitting the Ministry and joining the Cannons?' asked George.

Harry became somewhat more animated. 'You know I didn't! You were there with me.'

Lee said, 'Harry, just to clarify, did you leak the story about joining the Cannons?'

'No. It was pure hearsay.'

'Had you seriously considered quitting the Ministry or playing league Quidditch before you read the article.'

'No.'

'Have you had intimate relations with any of your teammates?'

'No.'

'Do you fancy men?'

'Not particularly,' replied Harry. 'Although Eric was a good kisser.'

Lee and George exchanged amused glances, and Lee held his finger over the delay rune again.

'Who's Eric, and when did you kiss him?'

'He's Laetitia's fiancé and a Muggle. We kissed in Paris last month, at a nightclub.'

'Does Laetitia know?'

'Yes, she was right there.'

'Is that all that happened between you and Eric?'

'Yes. It was just one kiss. But a Frenchman chatted me up because I was wearing makeup. He said it was very British rocker.'

Lee pressed the rune, and he and George burst out laughing. 'What do you think?' asked George. 'Can you remove that last bit about the makeup?'

'Yeah, hang on a moment.' He performed a wand motion and then touched the rune again. 'Listeners, we had to edit out one revealing detail, speculation over which will probably haunt Harry to the end of his days. But let's move to a different topic ... Harry, did the Blacks really squander most of their fortune, as you claim, or are you richer than the Muggle Queen?'

'I'm not richer than the Muggle Queen, or even close. The Blacks squandered most of their fortune, and the Potter number was exaggerated as well.'

'Was your mum ever romantically involved with Sirius Black or Remus Lupin?'

'Not that I'm aware of.'

'And did she deliberately lead on Severus Snape?'

'No, not to my knowledge. Although why she liked my father is a mystery, considering what an arrogant twat he was. But Dumbledore said he improved later, so I'll take his word for it.'

'You seem to be getting increasingly chatty,' remarked Lee. 'Fortunately we only have one more question, from the Quidditch community: Will your pelvis be fully healed tomorrow?'

'It should be,' said Harry. 'MacAlister says I'm healing well, and Lydia and I have learnt to play "Everything but the pelvis."'

Lee and George started laughing again, and George said, 'Harry, you performed admirably, and you've earned your antidote.' He gave Harry another teaspoon, this time with drops from the blue bottle.

Harry's eyes regained their focus, and his face fell with dawning realisation. 'You bastards!' he cried. 'I trusted you!'

'Oh come on, what's the big deal?' said George. 'So you kissed a bloke in a nightclub. Until ten minutes ago, most of our listeners believed that you and my brother shagged daily from puberty onwards.'

'That's a good point,' said Harry. 'But Lydia's going to kill me!'

'I'm sorry, but we couldn't possibly censor "Everything but the pelvis,"' said Lee. 'The public needed to know, and about the shaving as well. Would you care to elaborate?'

Harry sighed. 'The first time was on Saturday, while I was injured.'

'Hang on,' interjected George. 'Do you somehow use your pelvis to shave? Have I been shaving wrong this entire time?'

'No, of course not, but I needed Kreacher's help with everything else, and he really wanted to shave me. And I have to say, he does a seriously good job, so I've let him continue.'

'Let's have a look,' said George. Harry tilted his chin and turned his head in both directions so Lee and George could examine him.

'He's right,' announced Lee. 'That's a damn good shave—carry on. And now we'd like to thank Gringotts and our friend Dirk for his assistance this evening. Dirk, will you attest one last time to the authenticity of the proceedings?'

'Yes,' replied Dirk. 'Mr Potter spoke the truth.'

George opened the booth door for the goblin, allowing him to leave. 'Harry, are you really angry with us? You should be relieved about all the misconceptions you finally cleared up.'

Harry reviewed his memory of the interrogation. 'You're right, I am relieved. Now everyone will believe me that my vow was legitimate, and not just some story I made up. And thank Merlin no one's going to come after me for the Elder Wand. So yes, this was a good experience.'

'You look ready to leave,' observed Lee. 'Perhaps to play another round of that intriguing new game you mentioned.'

'No comment,' said Harry. 'And yes, I'm ready to leave—you'll just have to give my warm regards to Walburga.'

'She frequently sends her regards as well,' replied George. 'And now, Lee will restore the live audio for our in-store audience.'

While Lee performed charms, George escorted Harry from the booth. 'Well done, mate. No one will care about the Paris thing.'

'Yeah, I'm not worried. Thanks for abetting my mad idea.'

Harry pressed through the crowd towards the exit, receiving congratulations and pats on the back. One wizard jokingly puckered his lips, and everyone laughed when Harry raised two fingers at him. He signed autographs in the street for several minutes and then Apparated home.

Lydia was glaring at him. 'Oh dear,' said Harry. 'Am I in trouble?'

'You told them about "Everything but the pelvis!"'

'I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. But I can hex Lee and George if you like.'

'Yes, please,' she said, sulking.

'Are you really upset?' he asked, tentatively stroking her upper arm.

After a silence, she said, 'You've had seven partners.'

Harry sighed. 'And you're upset about that? Why?' he asked gently.

'Because I'm one in a crowd. I'll just be another story.'

He wrapped his arms around her. 'You're not just one in a crowd. And you're more than just a story. I love you.'

'But you fall in love easily. That's why she made you take that vow—you fell in love with her too. Only you wanted to marry her.'

'Are you upset that I won't marry you?'

'No, I don't want to be married. But you're the only wizard I've known who I'd have wanted to marry, and it hurts that you don't want to marry me. I'm just one of your flings.'

'Oh, Lydia ... maybe I'm doing flings wrong, but what we have isn't just sex. I love being with you, and it's been wonderful having you here this past week. Nobody else has lived here with me, not even Ginny. And you've taught me so much about the wizarding world, and you came to Claridge's with me ...'

He could hear that Lydia was starting to cry. 'I'll miss you,' she said.

'I'll miss you too. I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed waking up with you in the morning, and eating breakfast with you, and letting you pick my robes.'

'I don't want to be married,' she repeated. 'Not now. But if I did, I'd want it to be you. I'd even become Lydia Potter if you wanted.'

Harry stroked her hair and held her as she cried. He knew there was no point in contradicting her, or pointing out that they wouldn't agree on decor or a thousand other things.

'I've been so happy this last week,' she continued. 'I've never felt this alive, and it's not just the sex. Life with you is so exciting ... I've discovered music, and books, and the cinema, and the Knight Bus ...'

He pulled away and smiled at her. 'Are you really getting emotional about the Knight Bus?'

'No, it was ghastly. But you were there with me.'

'And I nearly threw up. You were the best thing about the Knight Bus, when you charmed Stan Shunpike into taking me home. And all those other things, like Muggle music and books—those aren't going away. You still have a whole world to discover, and it won't matter whether I'm there or not.'

She pulled the pocket square from his robes and attempted to blow her nose delicately. Not bad, thought Harry. She really has exceptional manners. 'You're right,' she said. 'I can still explore all those things on my own, or with someone else. But how will I discover them? You at least have a tutor.'

'Why don't you engage a tutor? I'm sure there are others.'

Lydia looked slightly cross. 'Why can't I hire Simon?'

'By all means, hire Simon! I just thought you might be reluctant because he's a werewolf.'

'He's FLOOF-compliant,' she said. 'And I wasn't scared of him by the end.'

'You can ask him about it on Friday, when we go to the theatre. And you have more free time than I do, so you can see him more often if you like. And then maybe you can take me to some of the places he's brought you, like museums or cathedrals.'

'I could invite him to my salon!' she said brightly. 'We could read Muggle books and discuss them, or just talk about culture.'

Harry looked at her affectionately. 'You have such an amazing life ahead of you, in your own flat and with so much to discover. And we'll still see each other, and you'll see other wizards. Half the men at the party were dying to meet you, after all.'

'I should insist that my partners read that article from Sorceress. Not that I'll have as many as you do, of course,' she added hastily.

'That's up to you. I'd be a hypocrite if I judged you for it.'

'You're sweet, but witches get reputations, and I need to be careful. I may be ruined, but I mustn't be cheap.'

'Are there portkey brothels for witches?' smirked Harry.

'No, but there are gigolos, or so I've heard. But I don't need one, because I can always owl you.'

'Oi! I'm a gigolo now?'

'Of course not! I'd never pay you, And obviously if you have a girlfriend I'll look elsewhere. I'm capable of discretion, even if you aren't.'

'Says the woman who had photographers document our first date.'

She swatted him and they went upstairs. 'What did they have to censor on the radio,' she asked.

'I revealed that a Frenchman chatted me up when I was wearing makeup. Were you imagining something worse?'

'No, you already said you didn't fancy men.'

'What will your family think about my admission that I kissed a bloke? And the Veritaserum in general?'

'They won't care about the bloke thing—most of the men in my family went to Hogwarts, after all. As for the Veritaserum, they were probably disappointed you didn't reveal anything incriminating. And my mother almost certainly fainted when you said "Everything but the pelvis."'

They retired to the bedroom and went to sleep several hours later. Harry slept well, and when he awoke the next morning he looked affectionately at her. It would be her last day at Grimmauld Place, and he knew he'd miss her. 'Flings are brilliant,' he thought fondly, wrapping his arm around her sleeping form.