Harry couldn't remember the last time he'd had such a relaxed evening. After reading all afternoon, he ate dinner and spent several hours replying to fan mail before going to sleep at ten. He only had one nightmare, so he was well-rested when morning came. But he needed all his calm to get through the Daily Prophet.

Rita's article was on the front page, and it contained no unpleasant surprises. Next to it was a new photograph from Saturday night, only it must have been taken with a Muggle camera, since no one was moving—Harry simply held hands with Jocelyn, and Darren and Maryann were standing beside them. And in what Harry suspected was a coordinated publicity campaign, there was an article inside speculating about the two witches, who were reportedly the talk of wizarding Britain.

None of this bothered him, but the letters to the editor were positively infuriating. 'Mothers Against Harry Potter' were out in force, decrying Harry's indecent public behaviour. 'Harry Potter is no longer merely concerning—he is a full-fledged menace and must be stopped. His uncontrolled behaviour is a threat to our collective moral fabric, and the Daily Prophet is equally culpable in promoting him. We therefore demand that Potter retire immediately from public life and spare our children from his noxious influence.'

Scowling, Harry thought, Did you even read the article about Light magic, or were you too busy hyperventilating about the sidebar? But the next letter was even worse: 'Harry Potter's so-called "Light magic" is clearly a cover for what can only be described as unfettered debauchery. His unsubstantiated claims are a gross insult to the Light Arts practitioners of centuries past, whose extraordinary feats will never be repeated. So far, the only proof Potter has offered is his public glowing, which can easily be faked using charmed artefacts such as a hidden amulet. It is inconceivable that an undisciplined dropout like Potter could possibly be experiencing true Light magic, when his behaviour can much more easily be attributed to his boundless and well-documented lust.'

Harry stared at the newspaper in furious disbelief. 'My so-called Light magic?' he cried aloud. 'Which part of "surviving the Killing Curse twice" did you miss? And how would I have got a hidden amulet past the referees, you ignorant cow?' She probably won't be convinced I'm legitimately glowing unless I strip naked and pass under the Thief's Downfall first, he thought angrily. Perhaps we can do that on the next episode of Weasley's Wizard Wireless.

Another letter stated that Light magic was a myth, and that Harry and Davina were in cahoots to part gullible witches and wizards from their hard-earned gold. 'I can guarantee that within a month, Potter and Hampton will announce plans to teach the Light Arts to the masses for the "low" price of ten Galleons a lesson, not including mandatory course materials, a patented wand attachment, and officially-licensed Chudley Cannons merchandise.'

Rolling his eyes, Harry wondered, Do people really think I'm that mercenary? And for Merlin's sake, the condom scheme is far more promising than trying to peddle Light magic, particularly if it's only a myth.

He was still frowning when an owl tapped on the kitchen window, and to his surprise the letter was from Rita. 'My darling Harry,' she wrote. 'Don't give those tiresome letters a second thought. I'll have you know that the Prophet didn't receive a single cancellation request in response to yesterday's issue, and that more than a dozen foreign publications have asked for syndication and translation rights. Expect a gift basket at the Cannons training grounds this morning, sent by the Prophet management both to cheer you up and show their immense gratitude. And if by chance you're still upset, go put on your favourite record and get your glow on. Personally I recommend Marvin Gaye. Yours always, Rita.'

Harry couldn't help smiling. She's right, he thought. I can glow all morning if I like. His heart unclenched, and although he didn't actually glow, he was able to finish reading the paper without further irritation.

When he arrived for practice, Lara was opening a very large parcel. 'Do you know anything about this?' she asked. 'It's addressed to you and was delivered just now by Gringotts, believe it or not.'

'Gringotts?' exclaimed Harry. 'I was told to expect a gift basket from the Daily Prophet, in appreciation for services rendered, but not from Gringotts.'

She read the card. 'No, it's from the Prophet, but they paid to have Gringotts verify the contents, so you wouldn't have to discard anything for fear of potions or charms.' Looking inside the box, she said, 'Wow, they must really like you.'

'What is it?' asked Harry with childlike excitement.

She hovered the box onto the table next to the window and said, 'Vanish the outer box and see for yourself. But then let me have some.'

Harry Vanished the box and revealed a tiered, flowing fountain, surrounded by vast quantities of fresh fruit. 'Is that chocolate?' he asked eagerly.

'Yes, three varieties: dark, milk, and white. And I should really take your picture, because your eyes are like saucers, only I'm afraid of what you might do in the photograph.'

'Trust me—all my thoughts are chocolate-related right now,' he said, still staring at the cascading fountain. 'But I just ate breakfast and am about to run laps ... Will it keep until later?'

'Yes, of course,' replied Lara. 'Magic, you know. But you need to have something now, just as a teaser.'

'You're absolutely right,' he said, approaching the fountain. 'And you should have some as well.'

'Is that what I think it is?' asked Janet, who had just entered. 'Please tell me I can have some.'

'Go right ahead,' said Harry, dipping a blackberry beneath the flowing chocolate and eating it. 'Oh my god,' he moaned. 'This is how people get fat, isn't it?'

'No, fruit has hardly any calories, and everyone knows chocolate is medicinal,' insisted Janet. 'Who sent this thing anyway, and can I bear their children?'

'The Daily Prophet,' replied Lara, between ecstatic bites of a chocolate-covered strawberry. 'By way of Gringotts.'

'I'm willing to have a goblin baby,' said Janet, popping some chocolate-dipped pineapple into her mouth. 'It might even be small enough to play Seeker.'

'Oi!' cried Harry. 'Do you want more chocolate or not?' he asked, coating a slice of banana.

One by one the other players were drawn irresistibly to the fountain. 'Are we sure they didn't charm this?' asked Gemma, between chocolate-covered blueberries. 'And if so, what charm did they use, because I need to learn it.'

'It's the No Fucking Around This Is Seriously Good Chocolate charm,' said Titus, his eyes closed in bliss.

'And the Perfectly Ripe Fruit That Was Hand-Picked By Virgins enchantment,' added Suresh, who was visibly enjoying a piece of chocolate-coated melon.

'Shouldn't we be outside running?' asked Renée, after eating her third dipped cherry.

'Is there chocolate outside?' replied Janet, and Renée shook her head. 'Then no, we need to stay here.'

'We need to run,' insisted Harry, forcibly tearing himself from the fountain. 'It'll be here later.'

'You're afraid of the team observers, aren't you?' asked Darren, dipping an apricot under the cascading chocolate.

'Yes, I am,' he said. 'Come on.'

Harry trotted into the locker room to drop off his clean clothes and then ran to the pitch, where Tuttle was looking at her wristwatch. 'I'd lecture you for cutting it fine, Potter, but everyone else is late too.'

'Did you have any?' he asked.

'Yes, but you didn't notice because you were too busy gorging yourself.' The other players arrived, and Tuttle barked, 'You'll need some time to digest before calisthenics—fifteen laps.'

For once, Harry didn't sprint ahead, and Darren joined him. 'So, how should we surpass last weekend's effort?'

'Are you kidding? That was a one-time event.'

'Yes, because we need to surpass it.'

'No, we don't,' replied Harry. 'I'm through with C-squareds.'

'So call them S-squareds. I don't mind.'

'I'm serious. I only went through with it to celebrate going public with Light magic, but I'm tired of being called a manwhore.'

'Sticks and stones,' argued Darren. 'Come on—you'll never be nineteen again.'

'Aren't you twenty-two?'

'I am, and if I'd used my time better when I was your age, I might have moved on by now.'

'Nice try, Rogers, but the answer is no. Jocelyn and Maryann were delightful, but I need more of an emotional connection.'

'Fine, I'm only giving you a hard time,' replied Darren. 'And besides, I'm seeing them again tomorrow.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, I heard from Maryann last night, and they've engaged a publicist who recommended we be seen together for at least another week. They'd love to have you there as well, but they got the hint regarding Alex.'

'Will they at least pick up the restaurant tab this time?'

'Not necessary—the publicist is on it. The only requirement is that we dial back the snogging.'

'Not if you go to Madam Puddifoot's in Hogsmeade,' suggested Harry. 'But they probably don't need the publicity.'

Darren nodded. 'Speaking of publicity, today was my first time on the front page of the Prophet.'

'Really? How do you feel about it?'

'I feel great! As you once pointed out, I'm just a rank-and-file Chaser, so this is a big deal for me.'

'Did I really say that?' said Harry, appalled.

'Yes—it was that week we were all taunting you, before Gilstrap.'

'Right, sorry. Carry on.'

'Anyway, I'll probably never be hugely famous as a Chaser, but I might be able to cement a reputation as a man-about-town.'

Harry wasn't sure how to reply. 'And that's a good thing?'

'Definitely! First, it'll be great for merchandise sales. Second, it'll help when I retire, because I won't just be some anonymous ex-Chaser. I'll be Darren Rogers, bon vivant.'

'What does that mean?'

'Er, man-about-town. Only with more of an emphasis on food and wine.'

'Is that different somehow from "alcoholic glutton?"'

'Admittedly it's a fine line,' said Darren, 'but I'm not a huge drinker now, so I don't anticipate a problem. And hopefully I'll be vain enough to stay fit.'

'Got it. And are there unique career opportunities for men-about-town?'

'No, but it's a great way to make connections. That's how you get hired at the Ministry, after all—you have to know someone. Obviously I know you, but you're going to get tired of all your ageing teammates hitting you up for introductions. So my plan is to leverage our friendship now, and that way I won't need to hit you up later.'

'If only I'd known,' said Harry dryly. 'I had lunch just yesterday with Kingsley Shacklebolt.'

'Now that's a connection! But not what I had in mind ... I want to make friends with the up-and-comers, closer to my age. And I don't even need for you to make introductions, since by Wednesday I'll be an established man-about-town. Which means we'll have a history by the time I need a job, so they'll know I'm steady.'

'But are you steady?' asked Harry. 'No offence.'

'None taken, and yes, I am actually. I was a paperboy, after all.'

'A Muggle paperboy?'

'Yes. My dad had a paper route before he learnt he was a wizard—he's Muggle-born—and he says it strengthened his work ethic, so he made me do the same. I had a bicycle and everything.'

'Did it strengthen your work ethic?'

'Mostly, except for the time I overslept. I almost got away with it, though, because I delivered all the papers using accidental magic. Unfortunately, some of the neighbours saw my bicycle riding on its own, with newspapers flying from it, and a team of Obliviators had to clean up after me.'

'That's fairly impressive accidental magic,' said Harry.

'Yeah, my family had high hopes for me after that, but unfortunately I wasn't the prodigy they were expecting.'

Harry chuckled. 'I can relate.'

Feigning disbelief, Darren said, 'Are you saying expectations were high after you survived the Killing Curse as a baby? I can't imagine why—that was nowhere near as impressive as my paper route trick.'

Janet slowed down to join them. 'So, I neglected to ask during our chocolate orgy this morning how your sex orgy went on Saturday.'

'Is four people an orgy?' asked Darren. 'I thought five was the minimum.'

'I assumed it was four,' replied Janet. 'Thoughts, Snitchbottom?'

'I have no idea—clearly this is yet another thing I failed to learn at Hogwarts.'

'Can you ask your tutor?' suggested Janet.

'I'd rather not,' said Harry. 'And in answer to your question, it was a lot of fun but I'm swearing off C-squareds.'

'What!' she exclaimed, outraged. 'First prostitutes, now this! At this rate you'll only shag nuns.'

'That sounds problematic,' observed Harry.

'The Harpyheads got to him with the "Manwhore" taunts,' said Darren.

'And I need an emotional connection.'

'Emotional connections are overrated,' grumbled Janet. 'I'm starting to have one with Ron and I don't like it.'

'Really? Why not?'

'I used to be able to torment him without a second thought,' she said. 'It was so much fun to watch him twist in the wind while I chatted up some other bloke. But last time I tried, he got this downcast expression, and it took all my willpower not to run over and comfort him.'

'I'm no expert, but that actually sounds healthy. Particularly if you omit the part where you deliberately provoked him.'

'But that's the best part!' she said. 'It's the part where I'm in control. But then he ruins it by evoking my compassion,' she added, scowling.

'Does he deliberately torment you?' asked Harry.

'He doesn't need to,' she said forlornly. 'We didn't see each other last night, because it was my Muggle grandmum's birthday and I didn't fancy Obliviating my cousins when he inevitably screwed up. And I missed him.'

Harry cupped his ear. 'I'm sorry, I didn't hear that last bit.'

'I missed him! I missed Ron Weasley! Are you happy?'

'Er, yes. You two seem like a good couple, oddly enough.'

She shook her head in disgust and said, 'Bloody emotional connection. Are you sure this is what you want?'

'Yes, only the trick is finding witches who will put up with me.'

'What specifically are you referring to? Your inability to stop skirt-chasing, the fact that you can't propose marriage for two more years, or your complete lack of privacy?'

'Yes.'

'It sounds like Alex doesn't mind,' said Darren.

'She doesn't, but she specifically wants me to see other people.'

'And you've ruled out C-squareds,' said Janet. 'I see the problem. You want something resembling love but you don't want to break anyone's heart.'

'Exactly. I wish I hadn't screwed up with Lydia, because she'd have been ideal.'

'And you're certain there's no hope of salvaging that?'

'Tempting, but I doubt it. The whole reason her family forgave her is because I'm out of the picture.'

'I don't know what to tell you, then,' said Janet. 'You met Alex by chance—maybe you'll meet someone else.'

'I hope so,' he replied, running ahead in silence.

Harry glowed intermittently during practice that morning, which he found incredibly freeing. He also flew on the Firebolt Ultra, which he had actually come to like. It behaved oddly at times, particularly in conjunction with his Light magic, and Harry became convinced it wasn't a coincidence.

'I'll owl Firebolt this afternoon to see if Randolph Spudmore is willing to talk,' Bruce told him. 'He's notoriously tight-lipped, but I'm hoping his marketing team will lean on him.

After their morning session, everyone was tempted just to eat chocolate-covered fruit for lunch, but Tuttle hid the fountain and insisted they have a proper meal. Harry was reluctant, however, to go to the pub for fear of glowing, so he changed into robes instead. 'Does this mean you're eating with the reserves?' asked Gemma.

'Maybe later this week, but today I'm going you-know-where to reassure the other Wizengamot members I haven't lost my mind.'

'Do you need to gather votes in France?' she asked slyly.

'Why doesn't anyone believe me that I'm not interested in prostitutes?'

'Because of your "boundless and well-documented lust," replied Gemma. 'Next question?'

'Very funny. See you after lunch.'

When he arrived at Pratt's, he was permitted to sign the register and saw that Blaise Zabini had recently arrived. Harry entered the dining room, and Blaise called him over. 'Harry! I've just sat down—will you join me?'

Everyone turned when they heard Harry's name, and several wizards stiffened, but to their credit nobody left. 'Yes, thanks,' said Harry, taking a seat. 'Are you expecting someone?'

'No, I just take the occasional meal here and wait to see who turns up,' replied Blaise. 'And as usual I've been rewarded! May I assume you're here for last-minute electioneering?'

'I think I'm all set, but I wanted to turn up in case anyone had questions.'

Blaise smirked. 'Questions like, "Have the Malfoys bribed you?" Or, "Are you going to annihilate me with your Light magic?"'

'For example. But I think I've reassured everyone on both points. At least I hope I have.'

'You certainly shocked everyone with your willingness to risk your own freedom,' said Blaise. 'Are you sure the Light magic hasn't exacerbated your Gryffindor tendency towards foolish acts of heroism?'

'No, quite the opposite. I was at Hogwarts on Thursday, and the Sorting Hat reassigned me,' said Harry, pulling an embroidered handkerchief from his pocket and showing it to Blaise.

'Sweet Salazar!' exclaimed Blaise. 'You really are a Black now! Surely the name change is imminent!'

'Not until I meet with the other Blacks,' replied Harry. 'You convinced me not to turn House Black into the Harry Potter show.'

'I'm flattered! And I'm certain you're hungry, so have a look at the menu,' said Blaise, handing it to him.

They ordered, and Blaise resumed talking. 'Regarding Draco ... Are you sure he won't break the law?'

'Yes. The details are private, but I have rock-solid assurances. There's no risk.'

'I'm glad to hear it, both of your sakes. I saw him last night, and it's clear he's got his hopes up.'

'Really? He told me he's convinced I'll ruin it for him.'

'Yes, that's true as well. He vacillates between excitement over his impending release and fear it won't happen. For example, he suggested we go out on Friday, but then he corrected himself and proposed I come see him at the Manor instead. It's rather poignant, really—the past year has been more difficult than he lets on.'

'That's why I'm doing it. House arrest isn't helping him.'

'No. It's been hard to watch, but until now the only alternative was Azkaban. What you're doing is tremendous—overwhelming, even.'

Harry sighed. 'That's my one concern ... Do you think he'll resent me for it?'

'He already resents you—the fact that you kept him out of Azkaban was a huge blow to his pride. But the difference now is that you're risking something, and not just distributing largesse from on high.'

'Like a Malfoy, you mean?'

Blaise chuckled. 'Yes, exactly.' Looking Harry in the eye, he added, 'You have a real opportunity, I think, if you can manage not to blow it.'

'To make friends, you mean?' he asked, and Blaise nodded. 'I get that impression as well, and I definitely don't want to blow it. But he's so volatile! And frankly, it won't be a real friendship if I have to walk on eggshells all the time.'

'He can't possibly be worse than he was during sixth year,' said Blaise, referring to the year Draco was tasked with killing Dumbledore. 'He was practically living in the Room of Hidden Things, trying to repair that bloody cabinet, although we didn't know it at the time. All we knew was that he had a top-secret mission, which he all but admitted came from the Dark Lord, and that the stakes were perilously high. And he lost his temper constantly, and did his best to chase away all his friends.'

'How did you handle it?' asked Harry.

'Personally I just rolled my eyes at him and gave him a free pass, repeatedly. If he insulted me, I acted like it was a big joke and insulted him back. And if he got upset and stormed off, I let him. But then I'd sit next to him at dinner as if nothing had happened, which seemed to suit him. More than anything, he wanted to feel safe, and that's what his friends provided, in our own ways.'

'Who else are you talking about, if I might ask?'

'Daphne and Pansy, certainly. Theo as well, although their relationship was complicated by the fact that Theo didn't take the Mark. Draco wanted reassurances he'd made the right decision, and Theo couldn't provide that.'

'What about Crabbe and Goyle?'

Blaise rolled his eyes. 'Draco never saw them as equals. He didn't see any of us as equals, to be honest, but definitely not them.'

'Has that changed at all?'

'Yes and no. Strictly speaking, none of us were his equal: until the war ended, he was sole heir to the richest wizarding family in all England. Admittedly I'll probably outstrip him at the rate Mother is going, but socially I'll never be a Malfoy. Theo, on the other hand, was socially his equal, but not financially, and especially not now. And Daphne and Pansy are witches, so it's not the same.' He looked again at Harry and said, 'Honestly, you're probably the closest he has to an equal.'

'Me? I'm a filthy half-blood, and I don't have nearly as much gold as he does.'

'Yes, but you're also unique. You and Draco were like the kings on a chessboard—at least in his mind—and the rest of us were secondary pieces.'

Harry shook his head. 'Dumbledore and Voldemort were the kings. Draco and I were the pawns.'

'Don't read too much into the metaphor,' said Blaise dismissively. 'My point, which you can't dispute, is that you and Draco were the highest-ranking students on your respective sides.'

'That's true. And Snape pitted us against each other as well.'

'Right. But the problem for Draco is that while you were his greatest adversary, he wasn't yours.'

'No, that was Voldemort.'

Blaise nodded and said, 'And when you defeated Voldemort, you knocked down Lucius and Draco like dominos.'

'I didn't knock them down. Voldemort dragged them down with him.'

'The distinction doesn't matter. You were the winner and they were the losers.'

Their food arrived and they began eating, but the conversation continued without a pause. 'We seem to have got off topic,' remarked Harry. 'I asked how not to blow it with Draco, and you said that during sixth year you kept welcoming him back, even after he blew up at you. Which I think I've been doing with him as well. But I'm not sure what to make of your assertion that I'm his only equal, at least in some respects.'

Blaise thought for a moment. 'My point is that you need to accommodate his hurt pride. You were clever to court him, because that made him feel important.'

'He is important,' said Harry. 'One of the main reasons I'm doing this is that he'll be hugely powerful in the future, regardless of whether he's released on Wednesday.'

'Yes, but are you treating him as an equal, or are you trying to recruit him?'

'Recruit him to what? I haven't any army or faction. I'd be thrilled to be equals, if that means we're at least communicating and not on opposite sides of a war. That's a big part of why I joined Pratt's—I heard Dumbledore shunned it, and in hindsight that was a huge mistake.'

'I was delighted to hear you joined,' replied Blaise. 'I was concerned your miscalculation with the Boudoir might have soured you—I'm sorry I didn't stop you from going that night.'

'You couldn't have stopped me. Lydia told me to go, and I was curious as well.'

Blaise leaned towards him and said, 'But you were bluffing in that article, right? Surely you intend to go back.'

'No, I really don't. If I hadn't heard the church bells and realised I was late to see Lydia, I could easily have fallen in love with Claire by morning. Admittedly I might have fallen in love with someone else days later, but I'm far too vulnerable around women. I've sworn off C-squareds as well.'

'But not before going out with a bang!' said Blaise admiringly. Lowering his voice, he added, 'Have you glowed here at Pratt's yet?'

'Only in private,' admitted Harry.

'And you won't do it now?' he asked conspiratorially.

'I won't stop it if it happens on its own, but I won't cultivate it on purpose.'

Blaise looked around the room. 'Yes, there's a healthy smattering of Dark wizards present. But I'm tempted to draw it out of you anyway, just for fun.'

'You can try, but remember you're not my type.'

'Yes, but what about Ginny? She told me how you misidentified her secret new love.'

Harry felt a sudden wave of affection. 'Oh, bugger, now you've done it.' He closed his eyes and said, 'I should apologise for how cross I was with you—if I were still in Auror training, I definitely would have pictured your face on a duelling dummy.'

'Am I mistaken, or are your hands a bit brighter than they were a minute ago?'

'No—oh, I love you!' exclaimed Harry as his Light magic ran away with him. 'Blast, this is all your fault!'

Blaise was laughing. 'There's nothing to worry about,' he announced to the other diners. 'The biggest risk is that Potter might declare his love for you.'

'Drag him to the Boudoir,' said a wizard.

'Please, no,' replied Harry, glowing brightly. 'I'd be completely defenceless.'

'Now you know how we feel around Light wizards,' grumbled another diner.

'I swear I won't hurt you,' he said sincerely. 'But oh, this is better than the Boudoir.'

'Impossible,' scoffed a wizard with fluffy grey hair.

'Are you accusing Potter of not enjoying the company of witches enough?' asked Blaise.

'I love witches,' sighed Harry. 'If only it were Tuesday and I could see Alex!'

'Alex is a man's name,' Blaise pointed out.

'Alexandra,' he exhaled blissfully. 'I haven't seen her since Friday morning, and it's been like torture.'

'Your memories of actual torture must be fading if you're comparing a night with those two witches to the Cruciatus Curse,' remarked Blaise.

Harry's glow dimmed instantly. 'Why did you have to say that?'

'It was your metaphor. And besides, I still want to tell you about my investment opportunity, and it would be unethical to do so in your vulnerable state.'

'You're right—I'd have just handed you the Black family ring and told you to help yourself. It's probably good I don't actually know how to remove it.'

'I would never dream of parting you from your Noble and Most Ancient House. Speaking of which, my bet is on Harry Potter-Black, with a hyphen.'

'Did Draco tell you?' asked Harry quietly.

'No, I just had a feeling. But mum's the word.'

Blaise spent the next fifteen minutes describing the business he was starting. 'It's completely above board,' he concluded, 'which is frankly a turn-off for some of my would-be investors, but I can assure you the projected returns are just as promising as much more dubious ventures.'

'That all sounds impressive, but honestly I'm not qualified to evaluate it. Would you be willing to make the presentation at Gringotts? They'll know the right questions to ask, and I'll trust their advice.'

'I'd be glad to,' said Blaise. 'I've spoken with them already, and they wanted to invest, but I wasn't happy with the terms. They wanted too large a share for the amount they were willing to put in.'

They agreed on possible times for a meeting at Gringotts, and Harry said, 'I'd love to keep talking, but I need to look in on my secretary. She's the main reason my life isn't a complete shambles, and I want to keep her happy.'

After explaining to Blaise that keeping Mrs Thwip happy did not involve fraternisation, Harry said goodbye and left the dining room. First chocolate, then Mrs Thwip, he told himself as he approached the fireplace. No, I'll never get to her office if I start with the chocolate, he realised, so he deliberately looked away from where the fountain was.

'Snitchbottom, don't you want any more?' asked Suresh.

'After my meeting!' he said, shielding his eyes and walking quickly.

'Better hurry,' warned Gemma, 'or there will be nothing left but coconut.'

Still wearing robes, Harry proceeded to Mrs Thwip's office and gave her his correspondence from the weekend. 'I'm sorry I didn't drop these off earlier,' he said. 'I got a bit distracted this morning.'

'Indeed,' replied Mrs Thwip, more frostily than usual.

Bugger, I'm in trouble! he thought. 'I apologise—I should have greeted you first,' he said. 'Good afternoon, Mrs Thwip.'

'Good afternoon, Mr Potter,' was her terse reply.

'How are you today? I hope you had something from the fountain.'

'I had a prune in white chocolate, thank you.'

I didn't even see any prunes, thought Harry. Did she bring her own? 'Er, are you preparing to sack me?' he asked nervously.

'What do you think, Mr Potter?'

Shit! I'm in serious trouble, he thought. It must be because of Jocelyn and Maryann. 'Didn't you say I'd be all right as long as I didn't deceive or coerce a woman?'

'That's only one type of behaviour I find objectionable,' she replied stiffly. 'Your public deportment is another.'

'But the photograph was inaccurate! Didn't you see this morning's article?'

'I did, but I saw nothing denying you'd behaved inappropriately inside the restaurant.'

Harry's shoulders slumped. 'You're right. I should have been more discreet.'

'Discreet!?' she snapped. 'You were worse than indiscreet—you were inconsiderate! The other diners at that restaurant didn't ask to witness your ... frolicking. And yet you inflicted it on them!'

'I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. My Light magic–'

'Is no excuse! Your behaviour was selfish, full stop.'

He simply nodded. 'Am I sacked, then?'

'No,' replied Mrs Thwip. 'You've kept up admirably with your correspondence, in spite of your distractions, so I'm giving you another chance. But make no mistake, Mr Potter, I shan't work for someone who routinely disregards other people's comfort.'

'You're absolutely right,' said Harry sadly. 'I was extremely inconsiderate, and I wouldn't blame you at all for sacking me if it happens again.'

'I'm certain it won't,' she said through gritted teeth. 'Am I correct, Mr Potter?'

'Yes, I promise. And I appreciate the guidance—really, I do.' Deliberately expanding into awareness, he asked, 'Is there anything else you want to tell me?'

'You have a new category of post,' she said, handing him a folder.

He hesitated before taking it. 'Is it hate mail?'

'No, see for yourself.'

Harry accepted the folder and read the first letter:

Dear Harry,

I can't believe I'm telling anyone about this, least of all Harry Potter, but here goes. I think I am experiencing Light magic too. I don't glow all over like you do, but starting in my late twenties (I'm 45 now), the lines on my palms glow and pulsate sometimes. That alone isn't very interesting, but the emotions you described perfectly match what I experience when my palms light up. Except the word 'I' doesn't apply, because the boundary between 'me' and everything else disappears, and I know that it never actually existed.

I know this sounds crazy, which is why I've never told anyone, not even my wife. She knows about my glowing palms, of course, and she jokes about how she doesn't need to use a Love Potion on me because I have one built-in. Fortunately I only have eyes for her, and I've never done anything unusual in a photograph, like they said you did on the radio this afternoon.

I'd never even heard of Light magic until yesterday, but now I want to learn more. I'm going to write to Davina Hampton next, and I also want to see if I can cast a Patronus Charm (I've never tried before).

I suppose I don't really have a question, but I just wanted to thank you for talking about Light magic and bringing it to my attention.

Sincerely,

Jasper Krupp

Harry saw that there were at least a dozen more letters in the folder. 'Are they all like this?'

'Yes,' replied Mrs Thwip. 'They mainly want to tell you about their own experience, which they never knew how to explain until now.'

Frowning, he said, 'I'd like to reply individually, but that could get time-consuming, depending on how common Light magic is. Could you give me a stack of form responses, which I can sign and add a postscript to?'

'Of course.'

Harry read a few more letters to get the gist of them and then dictated a reply. 'Thank you, Mrs Thwip. I'd really be lost without you.'

'Yes, Mr Potter. I know.'

After leaving Mrs Thwip's office, Harry was eager to return to the chocolate fountain, but Susanna flagged him down. 'Harry, do you have a moment?'

'Er, all right,' he said reluctantly, with a wistful glance towards the main entrance.

He followed Susanna to her office. 'We were hoping to take new team photographs this week, but now we have concerns about how you might behave.'

'You mean with the female players?' asked Harry.

Susanna nodded. 'Obviously we can take pictures regardless, and just discard the ones that don't work. But it might be awkward if, for example, we take a photo of you and Gemma—which would probably be a big seller—but then it never sees the light of day because of your in-photo behaviour.'

Harry sighed and thought for a moment. 'I'd love to boost Gemma's merchandise sales. Would it have to be a glowing photo? I don't think there's any risk otherwise.'

'You don't have to glow, but I'm certain it would sell better if you did.' She looked him in the eye and asked, 'Do you have any reason to believe you'd misbehave in a photo with Gemma, or with any of your other teammates?'

'I don't think I would. But I suppose it depends on whether I have deeply-hidden feelings for any of them. And I'll admit, the photograph the Prophet ran on Sunday depicted several things I'd never thought of doing before.' After a pause, he added, 'My motivation in taking new photographs would be to boost everyone else's merchandise sales, so perhaps that would dominate. But I might hug people—would that be all right?'

'I don't see why not,' replied Susanna. 'Thank you, Harry, and don't let me keep you from the chocolate any longer.'

Hs dashed down the corridor, afraid he'd find nothing left but coconut, but to his relief there was still plenty of everything. 'It seems to be self-replenishing,' said Ryan. 'We tried eating all the strawberries, but they kept reappearing. Our working theory now is that it's time-limited, and that it might run out at the end of the day.'

'That's your theory,' said Darren. 'The rest of us are just eating.'

Harry didn't reply, since he was simultaneously eating and calculating how much chocolate he'd have time to consume before afternoon practice.

'Do you feel bad now about how often you've whinged about the Prophet?' asked Lyle.

'Not even slightly,' replied Harry, between bites. 'They called me delusional for a year, remember?'

'You're right,' said Renée. 'They could send you another chocolate fountain every week for the next ten years and not make it up to you.'

'That is a brilliant idea!' exclaimed Janet. 'They should do that.'

'I don't know,' said Gary. 'It might erode the Cannons' competitive edge.'

'And Harry's robes wouldn't fit,' added Gemma. 'We can't let that happen.'

Afternoon practice was exhilarating, and Harry continued experimenting with differing degrees of Light magic. But he confirmed it was a bad idea to glow fully until the final chase for the Snitch, because otherwise he was too passive.

'Dammit, Toffer—stop telling me you love me and go frighten some Chasers!' shouted Gemma, after the third time he expressed his affection for her.

'But it's such a miracle we even met! I'm so glad we didn't hire Stuart—although, come to think of it, I love him too.'

Gemma's spotting had improved, but Harry's was still better, and the Firebolt Ultra gave him the extra kick he needed to make the catch. 'Bugger!' she cried. 'I was hoping all that chocolate would weigh you down.'

Harry wasn't hungry after showering, but Lara had prepared take-home boxes for everyone, so he brought home a wide assortment for his guests that evening. 'Did the Prophet send a note of apology, for all their years of lies and abuse?' asked Hermione, who arrived first.

'No, although this morning's article was technically an apology. What did you think?'

'Do you really want to know?' she asked pointedly.

'Er ... I do now.'

'You're playing a dangerous game, allowing Rita to lie for you.'

'If you mean the quote from the Unspeakable, I pushed back on that. But she insisted I have shown restraint, in spite of everything.' She looked at him sceptically, and he added, 'All right, three witches in one week was excessive, and we shouldn't have snogged in the restaurant, but I've sworn off C-squareds.'

She smiled indulgently at him. 'Harry, it's none of my business what you do, and as you've pointed out, I haven't exactly saved myself for marriage either. I just don't want Rita to gain leverage over you in case your deal ever falls apart.'

'You're right. I'll mention it next time I see her.'

'Have you really sworn off C-squareds? Again, none of my business.'

'I have done. The sad truth is that it all felt very shallow, on both sides. I was only interested because they were pretty, and they were only interested because I'm famous. Darren gave me a pep talk about how we're all motivated by evolution and human biology, but it was really just an excuse.'

'He's not wrong,' said Hermione. 'And I'm impressed Darren knows about evolution. But we also have an inborn need for emotional connection, and your Light magic probably strengthens it. I know mine does.'

Harry sat up. 'Did the exercises work? Are you experiencing it now?'

She smiled shyly and nodded. 'I don't glow, but my hair starts glittering with blue sparks. It's actually much stronger when I haven't charmed my hair into ringlets, but I suppose that's the Black family magic for you.'

'Congratulations! How does it feel?'

'It's only happened twice, but I suspect it's different to yours. I mainly feel compassion, and a sort of tenderness. But I'll hold off talking about it until Davina is here.'

Lucinda turned up next and immediately announced, 'Harry, I was completely infuriated when I read the Prophet this morning, and with your leave I want to send them this.' She handed him a sheet from a Muggle notebook, which read:

To whom it may concern,

As a mother, I am concerned about a growing problem in wizarding Britain: the sanctimonious blather of a group calling themselves 'Mothers Against Harry Potter.'

Although I admire their ability to carve out time from their busy day, I wish they'd used it for something other than vilifying the young man to whom we owe our current state of peace and prosperity. They claim to worry about Harry Potter's effect on their children's impressionable minds, but I worry more about their prurient fascination with Potter's personal life.

'He should keep it to himself!' they cry. 'There's a reason it's called a "private life!"' And yet since infancy Potter has been denied the privacy the rest of us take for granted. For more than a decade, every magical parent in Britain regaled their children with stories of the Boy Who Lived, and none of us complained that we knew too much about him. Furthermore, as the authors of these bedtime stories, we as parents were able to edit out inconvenient details, such as how his parents were brutally murdered, or how a callous society allowed Voldemort to gain power in the first place.

Now, years later, the former Boy Who Lived is a remarkable young man who has fulfilled all the promise of his infancy, but Mothers Against Harry Potter still want to pick and choose amongst the facts. 'If only he'd married his school sweetheart, like a proper wizard!' they complain. Yes, and if only we could return to those carefree days when we made up stories involving immortal warlocks and the rest, while remaining ignorant of Potter's far less pleasant reality.

I vastly prefer the current situation, in which Potter alone is the author of his life and is no longer being abused or manipulated by the adults who were supposed to look after him. Perhaps the narrative isn't as tidy, but my impression is that Potter is a good deal happier now than he was back then. And that, to me, is a far more satisfying story.

My final advice to Mothers Against Harry Potter is to mind your own bloody business. You seem to believe Potter is a dangerous role model, but I'm certain your small-minded meddling sets a far more harmful example.

On behalf of Mothers For Harry Potter,

Lucinda Bellamy

Harry was dumbfounded, and he glanced at Hermione in the hope she'd say something. 'That's brilliant!' she cried. 'I wish I were a mother so I could sign it too! Should we gather more names for it?'

'Er, are you sure this is a good idea?' asked Harry uncertainly. 'I'm touched, and I definitely appreciate it, but it's rather harsh and I don't want yet another backlash.'

'You're already seeing the backlash,' said Lucinda. 'And believe me, the original version was much harsher. For example, I questioned how they managed to become mothers in the first place, and I suggested they consult Sorceress for advice on how to be less uptight.'

'That's definitely more harsh,' agreed Harry. 'But Hermione, are you sure this is a good idea?'

'Absolutely! I'm convinced Mothers Against Harry Potter is a small minority, and that far more mothers agree with Lucinda. And I'm serious about getting other names—Lucinda, what do you think?'

'I'd be glad to share the credit, although I suspect the Prophet won't print a petition. So maybe half a dozen at most.'

Before Harry could protest, Hermione made duplicates of the letter and Lucinda drafted an explanatory note. 'Harry, can we use the jackdaws?'

He assented, and within minutes the letters were dispatched in multiple directions. 'Do you want dinner?' he asked Lucinda.

'No, I'll just tide myself over with some of this lovely chocolate and eat properly later. But I promise to wash my hands before pawing through your library.'

Once Harry and Hermione were in the kitchen and safely out of earshot, he said, 'Can you imagine if we'd had Lucinda in the Order of the Phoenix?'

Hermione's eyes widened. 'That could have changed the entire trajectory of the war, but I couldn't begin to predict how.'

'She'd have cleaned up Sirius's act, that's for sure,' began Harry. 'And she'd have torn Snape a new orifice.'

'She would have done,' said Hermione. 'You'd also still have silver, because she'd undoubtedly have scared Mundungus away.'

'No, I'm eternally grateful to Mundungus for ridding me of the silver. But she'd have saved us a lot of trouble if she'd prevented him from stealing the locket. And something tells me she'd have had no problem destroying a Horcrux.'

'Yes, although she might have become master of the Elder Wand somehow—I can't see her letting Dumbledore off the hook.'

Hermione asked him about Alex, and Harry felt his heart melt just a little. 'I'd love for you to meet her,' he said. 'I'm not sure about her schedule, but perhaps on Saturday after the match?'

'Maybe, but Ryan and I wanted to celebrate my birthday together.'

'Bugger! I almost forgot your birthday as usual! Is it on Saturday?'

'No, it's on Sunday, but we're seeing my grandparents then.'

'Would you be willing to celebrate with more than just Ryan?' asked Harry. I could host a small party if you like.'

'Really? A dinner party would be lovely. But would you mind if I invite Ginny and Wendy?'

'That's fine, but only if I can invite Draco and Pansy.' Hermione froze, and Harry said, 'Just kidding.'

Hermione made a list of guests, including several of Ryan's friends, and Harry called Kreacher so they could discuss the details. 'This is awfully generous of you. Are you sure I can't contribute?'

'Yes, I'm sure. After all, how many years did I completely ignore your birthday, or Christmas for that matter?'

'Not every year,' she said. 'Sometimes you remembered. You and Ginny gave me a lovely birthday present last year.'

'That was all Ginny—she picked it out entirely on her own. To be honest, I can't even remember what it was.'

'It was a portable bookcase. It had built-in shrinking charms, and I could just tuck it in my pocket. Much easier than a book-bag.'

'Oh right! That was expensive, and I didn't have access to my vault yet. Speaking of which, do you want to wear a tiara to your party? I could probably get the curse removed in time.'

'That's quite all right, thanks.'

After dinner, they greeted Davina at the fireplace and went up to the library. 'Don't mind me,' said Lucinda, who had a stack of books on the table in front of her. 'I'm just cataloguing your collection for future reference. But I can leave if you prefer.'

'Davina, this is Lucinda Bellamy,' said Harry. 'Do you mind if she stays?'

'No, of course not,' replied Davina, sitting down. 'So, Harry, how do you feel now that you've gone public?'

He told her about his experience during the match. 'On the one hand, I'm more able to modulate my glowing than I was before. But on the other hand it's happening all the time, and I need to avoid Muggle settings.'

'Yes, your outburst is proving exceptionally strong.'

'What does that mean?' asked Hermione.

'Light magic can manifest in different ways, as you're learning. Not everyone glows, but that's the most famous presentation precisely because it's so hard to ignore. Furthermore, I've seldom seen a magical photograph behave so differently to its live counterpart.'

Harry's face fell. 'So I'm abnormal even among Light wizards?'

'There is no "abnormal" with Light magic,' said Davina. 'But it was to be expected that your experience would be unusual in certain respects.'

'Why?' asked Hermione.

'For all the reasons we've discussed: your mother's sacrifice, the years of suppression, and of course that ghastly Horcrux you were toting in your skull.'

'What?!' gasped Lucinda, looking up from her books.

Harry and Hermione looked at each other in alarm. 'Lucinda, are you familiar with Horcruxes?' asked Hermione cautiously.

'Yes, I came across them in a perfectly horrid book, called something like Secrets of the Darkest Magic.'

'Secrets of the Darkest Art?' prompted Hermione.

'Yes, that's the one. Vile from start to finish.'

'Where did you find it?'

'One of the pure-blood Spoonwockets had it in the attic, and I found it as a nosy teenager. I don't think anyone had opened it in decades, if not longer. But are you saying Harry had a Horcrux in his skull?'

They explained everything to her, with an emphasis on the importance of keeping it secret. 'Not only don't we want people to know about Horcruxes,' said Hermione, 'but we also don't want anyone guessing the truth behind Harry's scar.'

'Surely some people have guessed it,' said Lucinda. 'I should have done, particularly since it explains why you could speak Parseltongue.'

'I'm glad you didn't,' replied Harry. 'And yes, some people have figured it out,' he said, recalling Alistair.

'And you turned out all right,' said Lucinda slowly. 'Remarkable. But don't mind me—carry on!'

'Er, where were we?' Harry asked Davina.

'I was listing the reasons we shouldn't be surprised your Light magic has come out roaring. Hermione, I don't know as much about your history, but I'd expect your Light magic to be somewhat gentler, in spite of your magical strength.'

Lucinda looked up again but didn't say anything.

'Actually,' said Hermione. 'I think I experienced accidental Light magic yesterday.' She described the blue sparks in her hair, and the emotions that had accompanied them.

Davina beamed at her. 'That's a perfectly lovely manifestation. I look forward to seeing it. But you should work even harder now on your Occlumency.'

'I've been practising meditation, but I still can't quiet my mind at all,' she admitted.

'Perhaps not,' replied Davina, 'but now that you've begun to establish Light magic, you may be able to resonate with Harry's. Turn your chairs so you're facing each other,' she instructed. 'Good, now hold hands.'

Harry took Hermione's hands and looked down at them. 'Look at each other,' said Davina. 'And Harry, do whatever it is you do when you practise Occlumency, only include Hermione.'

'How?' he asked, but Davina shook her head.

'Don't think about how to do it—just do it.'

He allowed energy to rise from his torso and chest into his head, creating a shell of protection that matched the boundaries of his head. That's me, he thought. Now add Hermione.

He furrowed his brow. 'It's hard when I'm looking at her, because she feels so separate. Can't I close my eyes?'

'No. That's cheating.'

'Cheating? Really?' asked Hermione.

'No, not really,' said Davina. 'But you'll be better off if you can keep your eyes open but learn to soften the barrier between "me" and "not me."'

Harry looked at Hermione, and he allowed his shell of protection to surround their shared being. 'Do you feel it?' he asked.

'Not particularly. Should I?'

'It doesn't matter,' said Davina. 'Your conscious mind is just a tiny part of you. Often it's the last to find out.'

After a few minutes, Davina said, 'That's enough. Hermione, you should keep practising meditation, but when you experience Light magic you might try imitating what Harry does, which is to fill the inner space with silence. One method or another is bound to work.'

'How secret do I need to keep my Light magic?' she asked.

'Don't announce it in the Prophet,' replied Davina. 'But if your hair starts sparking in public—wizarding public—just say it's something new that happens when your emotions are running high. Unless of course it's someone you trust, in which case you can tell them.'

Lucinda rose from her chair. 'Harry, may I borrow these four books?' she asked, indicating a small pile.

'Yes, of course. And thank you for writing that letter—that was very kind of you.'

'After what I learnt tonight about the Horcrux, I'm particularly glad I wrote it. By rights you should have turned out as Dark as they come, but instead we have this,' she said, gesturing toward Davina. 'Don't let a handful of uptight busybodies get you down.'

'Cheers,' he said bashfully.

'Look for my banner on Saturday,' she said, and then she bade everyone goodbye and left with her stack of books.

'Davina,' asked Harry, 'can you say more about why my photograph misbehaved, and whether I can expect that to keep happening?'

'As you've probably noticed, there aren't a lot of cut and dried answers in Light magic. If there were, I'd have known to warn you against being photographed while glowing, but I was caught off guard just as you were. That said, here's what I think happened: You'd already been kissing both witches in public, correct?'

'And then some,' admitted Harry.

'Right. Clearly you had a strong desire to be seen, or else you would have waited until you were in private, or ducked into the loo.'

'So I am an exhibitionist?' he said sadly.

'There's no "I am" here,' said Davina. 'I said you had a strong desire to be seen, or at least you did in the moment. There are also parts of you with an aversion to being seen, and also a sense of consideration towards the other diners, but they were outvoted by the rest of you that night.'

Harry sighed. 'I was taken to task this afternoon for being inconsiderate of the other diners, and I don't want to act like that in the future.'

'Then you need to consciously strengthen that wish, so it doesn't lose the vote next time you're in public with someone you fancy. But back to the photograph, you'd already spent the previous hour canoodling with those two witches, if you'll excuse the expression. And then you took a short break to pay for the meal and go home, where you presumably picked up where you'd left off?'

'That's right.'

'Well, it's no wonder your photograph behaved that way. Your intention was well lubricated by that point—again, pardon the expression—and you paused to pose for a photograph before going home to close the deal.' After a short silence, she asked, 'What was your intention when you posed for photographs during the interview with Rita Skeeter?'

'I wanted to tell people about Light magic, and show them how wonderful it is. And also to convince them it's possible.'

'Do you want to know how many requests for instruction I've received since Saturday night?' Harry and Hermione both nodded, and Davina said, 'Hundreds.'

'Hundreds?' gasped Harry.

'Yes, and they were still arriving this evening. And not just for individuals, but for groups as well.'

'Did you hear from Kingsley Shacklebolt? He wants all the Aurors to learn Light magic. He told me on Sunday that even if only one in ten can pull it off, it'll still be worth it.'

'Will you be able to teach them all?' asked Hermione. 'And can you still teach us privately, or would it be a better use of your time to focus on larger groups?'

'I agreed to teach you privately, and I have every intention of continuing,' she said. 'And I confess I have an ulterior motive: I eventually want you to start teaching.'

'Blast, this is just like that letter to the Prophet!' said Harry. 'Someone said Light magic is just a myth, and that within a month you and I would start offering lessons for ten Galleons a pop.'

Davina laughed and said, 'Firstly, you won't be ready to teach in a month, except perhaps the Patronus Charm. Secondly, it won't cost nearly that much. I'll charge a nominal amount, since that helps ensure people take it seriously, but I won't turn anyone away for lack of funds.'

'You offered to teach us for free,' noted Hermione.

'I knew your time was valuable—Harry's in particular. So your willingness to make time already told me you were serious.'

She spent the next hour guiding them through exercises to stabilise their Light magic, and at Hermione's insistence she provided the title of a book on the topic. 'Is it all right if I don't read it?' asked Harry sheepishly. 'I'm sure it's interesting, but I'm already too busy.'

'That's fine,' said Davina, and Hermione promised to share the important bits.

'Did you hear from any of your relations after the article came out?' asked Hermione.

'No, but I didn't expect to,' replied Davina. 'My parents are very conservative, and my brother and I were never close.'

'I met your father,' said Harry. 'At Pratt's.'

She looked astonished. 'Are you a member?'

'Yes, as of last week. I joined for several reasons, but the main one is to normalise the Light political extreme and redefine the centre.'

'Interesting. How did they react to Saturday's revelation?'

'They had an emergency meeting and demanded reassurances I wouldn't kill anyone. Which seems to have worked, since I ate lunch there today and nobody fled, even when I started glowing.'

'You glowed at Pratt's?' exclaimed Davina, just as Hermione blurted, 'There are wizarding schools in Britain besides Hogwarts!'

'I know, Gemma reminded me this afternoon. And yes, I glowed there, but all I got were some snide comments.'

'Remarkable,' said Davina. 'You were clever to join now, while they'd still have you. But what did you and my father discuss?'

'We talked about my upcoming Wizengamot appearance, but also about finding common ground amongst wizards.'

'Yes, that's his favourite topic, so long as the common ground is right where he's standing.'

Harry nodded and said, 'I'm afraid I made a blunder when I told him about Hermione's boyfriend, Ryan, and how their house is wonderfully magical even though his father is a Muggle.'

'Oh dear. Does Ryan have non-magical siblings?'

'No, he's an only child, but that's exactly what your father asked. He said that unless we stay pure of Muggle culture, our youth will be tempted away, and magic will be lost.'

'Case in point,' said Davina, raising her hand. 'Poor Father, I've been such a disappointment to him.'

'You shouldn't be,' argued Hermione. 'You've spent years studying an important branch of magic, and you'll be central to its revival in Britain.'

'But he has no magical descendants, or won't after my brother and I are gone.'

'Didn't you say your grandchildren might yet prove magical?' asked Hermione.

'It's not out of the question, but I don't really pursue that train of thought. I confess I was disappointed the first time around, mostly for my father's sake but for my own as well, and I'd rather not get caught up in "what ifs."'

She and Hermione left soon after, and Harry ate the last of the chocolate. I'll see Alex tomorrow, he thought with satisfaction, recalling the feel of her arms around him. And maybe the next night as well, he hoped fondly.