Author's Note:

Bonus chapter! This week Loose Cannon passed one million words (the original series is 1,084,171 words), and I thought I'd celebrate. I should add that the end is nowhere in sight, and that a good editor would probably take a chainsaw to my fic, but hopefully you've figured out by now that Loose Cannon is about the journey rather than the destination.

Next update on Wednesday!

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'That has to be the most absurd hat I've ever seen,' declared Alex.

'I know,' grimaced Harry, 'but I have to wear it, and I don't dare insult the lords this morning.'

Alex tilted her head to examine it. 'It's as if the person who designed it decided to discard the accumulated wisdom of hatmakers since time immemorial and go off in a completely new direction. Or several directions, rather.'

'You're not boosting my confidence.'

'Does your confidence really need boosting? You seem downright cocky to me. And besides, you had about a dozen letters praising your performance last night.'

'But what did you think of my performance last night?' he asked, with a gleam in his eye.

'I think you know already.'

'Then why can't I see you again tonight?' he whinged dramatically.

'I told you—Rocky doesn't want me seeing you two nights in a row, and I don't blame him. But we can go to the nightclub on Thursday, and I'll attend your match on Saturday.'

'I know, and I can't wait. But I'll miss you terribly tonight.'

'Too bad,' she replied saucily. 'I still expect you to see other people, and I'd only get in the way.'

'Do you know how many propositions I receive? Scores of witches would do anything for my attention, and here you're discarding it.'

'I'm not discarding it—I'm just confining it to alternate evenings. And you've proven my point that your confidence doesn't need boosting.'

'Maybe not,' he admitted. 'But I'll be relieved when this bloody vote is behind me.'

They went downstairs together, and after a lingering goodbye in front of the fireplace Harry travelled by Floo to the Ministry. When he emerged in the Atrium, he saw everyone's eyes land first on his hat, and then widen in surprise when they saw who was wearing it. Several people glanced at his hand to see if his ring was visible, but he had decided not to reveal it until he entered the Wizengamot chamber.

He saw a handful of witches and wizards dressed in Wizengamot burgundy, but almost no one wore the traditional voluminous robes. The relatively fit wizards wore robes similar to his own, and a variety of other styles were represented as well. This is much more interesting, he thought, and he was proud to have caused the upheaval in the first place.

But then he corrected himself. You need to toe the line, Snitchbottom. He was confident he had more than enough votes, but he didn't want to blow it by antagonising anyone.

'Lord Black,' said Romulus Wynter, entering the lift after him.

'Lord Wynter,' replied Harry cordially, noting that Davina's father still wore the traditional robes.

Wynter glanced at Harry's left hand and raised a fluffy, white eyebrow. For Merlin's sake, I'm not even in the chamber yet, he thought irritably. But he decided to appease the elderly wizard and cast a strong, wordless Finite incantatem, which caused the ring to appear.

Wynter nodded in satisfaction. I suppose Wynter feels as strongly about tradition as I do about Light magic, mused Harry. And clearly he's stubborn, if he cut his own daughter from his life simply for marrying a Muggle.

The lift stopped at the lowest level, and Harry waited for Wynter and his companion to exit. He followed them into the chamber, but instead of heading directly to the lords' section, he looked for familiar faces among the clusters of wizards standing around talking.

'It's good to see you, Lord Black,' said Oscar Abbott. 'And congratulations on not wincing when I called you that.'

'Cheers,' replied Harry. 'But you don't believe in all that lordship bollocks, do you?'

'No, certainly not. But I respect Wizengamot rules—even recent ones—which means I'm to address you appropriately. And within these walls you're a Black, not a Potter. I could only call you Potter if you were dressed normally and seated in the gallery.'

'I'd be at Quidditch practice right now if I were only a Potter,' he grumbled.

'Yes, and young Malfoy would be looking at another ten months of house arrest.'

'Do I still have your support?' asked Harry.

'Of course you do. You had it already, but your radio performance last night was extraordinary. Do you know who it was?'

'I have no idea. But there were plenty of witnesses, so it's bound to come out.'

'You've dealt a crushing blow to the Dark Arts in Britain,' said Abbott approvingly, 'and I'm thrilled to witness it.'

'Are you only witnessing it?' asked Harry. 'Light magic is much more fun from the inside.'

'Surely I'm too old!'

'You'd have to ask Davina, but she hasn't said anything to that effect. The only problem would be if you'd spent decades practising the Dark Arts.'

'No, of course not.'

'Then you should owl her,' replied Harry. 'Certainly there's no harm in asking.'

Abbott was silent a moment. 'Perhaps I will.'

Harry scanned the gallery and saw Narcissa and Andromeda. Narcissa's appearance was startling—she sat rigidly, and her face wore the sneer he'd observed when he first met her. She must be terrified, he thought, and his compassion stirred as he approached them.

'Narcissa, Andromeda,' he said warmly. 'Good morning—I'm glad you're here.'

The two witches rose and Andromeda embraced him, but Narcissa only nodded. 'How are you?' asked Harry gently. 'Can I reassure you somehow?'

'You've worn the hat at least,' she said resignedly. 'And you didn't grossly insult any factions last night, other than Harpies fans.'

'I thought I was very understanding towards the Harpyheads.'

'Of course you were,' replied Andromeda. 'But Cissa's a nervous wreck—last night she kept sending Nitta over for reassurance, until I finally scooped up Teddy and joined her. And yes, you did fine. More than fine—did you get my owl?'

'Yes, thank you.'

'Who is this Alex?' asked Narcissa. 'Did she go to Hogwarts?'

'Her parents did, but they moved to America when she was a baby and she was educated there.'

'She's American!' exclaimed Narcissa, horrified.

'Not like you're thinking. She spent summers in England, and she scarcely has an accent. But we're not dating exclusively, and there's no chance we'll marry.'

Narcissa rolled her eyes. 'No, I suppose not.'

'Harry,' said Andromeda, 'is there anyone else you should talk to before the session starts? Shacklebolt, or Bode perhaps?'

'There's no hope I'll convince Bode,' replied Harry, 'but I should at least say hello.'

Narcissa grabbed his arm and said, 'Don't lose your temper.'

'I promise, I won't. I just had a civil exchange with Romulus Wynter, so surely I can get along with Merrick Bode.'

'Good luck,' said Andromeda, but Narcissa only nodded, her eyes still full of dread.

Harry approached the taciturn head of the DMLE. 'Bode,' he said simply.

'Potter. Or Black, rather,' was Bode's cold reply.

'Only within these walls.'

'That's not what I hear,' he said, glancing at Harry's ring and then at Narcissa. 'I'm told you're quite enamoured of your new relations.'

'I've known Andromeda for years, and she's raising my godson. As for Narcissa, we have a rocky history, but we've found common ground.'

'You mean when you betrayed the Department and kept her and Draco out of Azkaban?'

'I didn't betray the Department,' said Harry irritably. 'If it weren't for them, I'd be dead and the Death Eaters might still be in charge.' After a pause he added, 'You should know she also wanted me to help Lucius, and I refused.'

'I'm relieved to hear you have at least a sliver of respect for the law. But surely you don't expect my vote.'

'Of course not. Not after what Lucius did to your brother.'

'This has nothing to do with Broderick,' insisted Bode. 'This is about law and order, which you turned your back on several months ago.'

'I was a lousy Auror,' began Harry, but Bode interrupted him.

'You aren't now. With your Light magic, you could neutralise all the remaining Death Eaters. But you'd rather be a celebrity.'

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'I'd rather live my life. Surely Kingsley explained why I left.'

'Yes, because you never had a proper childhood. But neither will the orphans created by the Dark wizards you won't bother catching.'

Guilt rose in Harry's chest, but he tried not to let it sway him. 'I won't catch them, but other wizards will. And I like to think I've done my part.'

'You're only nineteen—you haven't even begun to do your part.' Sighing, he added, 'When I think about what you might have accomplished, it would have dwarfed what you did with Voldemort. But clearly you've made your decision.'

'I have done,' said Harry. 'And I'm sorry you don't understand it. Kingsley does.'

'Yes, he's always had a blind spot where you're concerned. And you'll be pleased to see how many votes he gathered for you. Or for Malfoy, rather.' Narrowing his eyes, he said, 'Don't expect me to go easy on you if he breaks the law. I'll send you to Azkaban right along with him.'

'He won't break the law,' said Harry firmly.

'Because he's your cousin?'

'No, because I have ironclad assurances—civil and magical. Believe me, if Draco continues his house arrest, he's more likely to turn out like Lucius, not less.'

'So you claim. But starting this afternoon he'll be free to visit his father and start carrying out orders, which undoubtedly include plots against you.' Bode's expression softened, and he said, 'Can't I talk you out of this? It's a trap, probably cooked up by Lucius himself.'

'I appreciate your concern. Really, I do. But you won't change my mind.'

Bode sighed. 'Your funeral, Potter. Or Black, rather.'

Harry inclined his head and walked heavily to his seat amidst the wizarding peers. They greeted him one by one with a terse, 'Good morning, Lord Black.'

Sandra had assembled photographs of the most important Wizengamot members, including all the lords and ladies, so Harry was able to acknowledge them by name. 'Good morning, Lady Greengrass,' he said to Daphne's mother. 'We've never met, but I've lately become friendly with Daphne.'

'Yes, Lord Black, so I've heard,' she said warmly. 'It's tremendous what you're doing for Draco.'

They chatted politely for several minutes until Chief Warlock Sledge took his seat and one of the lords banged the gong. There was a lot of ceremony, which Harry ignored, and he instead pondered his morning so far. Abbott praised me for not wincing when he called me Lord Black, but I've actually got used to it, he realised. The title still rankled, but the name Black sounded perfectly normal. I'll never leave off being a Potter, but I've grown shockingly comfortable as a Black.

Everyone around him was wearing a ring, and he noted with dismay that his was the ugliest. If I had a taste for jewellery, I'd probably be willing to wear Lord Yaxley's ring in public, he thought, but he knew the most he'd ever wear visibly would be a wedding ring.

Alex had a sapphire engagement ring, but she deliberately wore it on her right hand so people wouldn't know what it was. 'It's hard to have a pocket romance when I have someone else's cuff on my left ring finger,' she'd told him. He closed his eyes as he recalled their night together, and his Light magic threatened, but another bang on the gong reminded Harry where he was.

The court secretary announced the individual Wizengamot members seeking votes, similar to Harry's request in August, and all of them were approved without difficulty. The lords were a serious bunch of wankers to deny my request, thought Harry bitterly, but he was also relieved it hadn't gone through. Everyone says I won the day, and it's much better having Rita on my side.

Next came the more important measures, none of which were controversial. Sandra had briefed him in advance, and Harry voted with the majority every time. But his own request was of the greatest interest, based on how everyone sat up when his name was called. 'Lord Black,' said the secretary, 'please rise and make your request.'

Harry read from the document Sandra had prepared. 'I, Lord Harry James Black, hereby invoke lordly privilege and request a vote from the full Wizengamot. This is my sacred right, earned by my fathers and passed unerringly to me, and I supplicate my fellow judges to impartially evaluate my demand.'

He surveyed the chamber to gauge people's reactions, which generally seemed positive. Most of the lords were seated behind him, but Lord Rosier to his right nodded in approval. 'I am specifically invoking the right of Promittam revertetur, whereby I may petition for a convicted wizard's freedom based on my personal guarantee. Stated formally: I, Lord Harry James Black, seek immediate freedom for Draco Lucius Malfoy, and I offer my personal guarantee that no substantive wizarding law will be violated as a result of this boon. I swear on my honour and my magic that I will willingly accept any punishment earned by Draco Malfoy until the end of the term previously assigned by this chamber.'

His statement was followed by yet another bang on the gong, and Harry remained standing. Chief Warlock Sledge turned to face him. 'Lord Black, the court acknowledges your petition, and you may now state your case informally.'

Harry took a deep breath before continuing. 'My fellow judges,' he began. 'I addressed this chamber a year ago July to defend Draco Malfoy against charges of attempted murder against Albus Dumbledore, criminal conspiracy, and performing Unforgivable Curses. But it's not my wish to reopen that case and revisit the court's decision, which I believe was just, based on what was known at the time. I come instead to the court with a new request to commute Draco Malfoy's sentence to time served.'

'Based on what evidence?' interjected a wizard who was seated next to Bode.

'Wait your turn,' ordered the Chief Warlock. 'Lord Black, please continue.'

Looking at his prepared document, Harry read, 'My request is based on first-hand observation of Draco Malfoy under house arrest. Like me, Draco was dragged into the war at a young age. Younger than I was, in fact, since I didn't even know about Voldemort until I was eleven. And like me, Draco suffered from his participation in the war, and house arrest has impeded his ability to heal and move forward. If the ultimate goal of justice is to prevent future conflict and wrongdoing, I believe justice will be best served by granting Draco his immediate freedom and allowing him to build a life beyond his experience as a Death Eater.

'Speaking personally, I've only recently been able to build a life that's free from my experience as a child soldier. Draco already proved during the war that he wasn't fully committed to his role as Voldemort's servant, specifically by refusing to identify me when I was captured. I believe he deserves the opportunity to continue along this path, and I'm willing to risk my own freedom to ensure he gets it.' Lowering his parchment, he officially ceded the floor.

'The court invites questions, comments, and rebuttals,' announced the secretary. Several wands were raised, and she said, 'Director Bode, you have the floor.'

Bode rose and read from a parchment of his own. 'As Director of the DMLE, I vehemently oppose Lord Black's request for Draco Malfoy's early release. Draco willingly took the Dark Mark and spent months plotting the murder of Albus Dumbledore. You might claim he was underage and had been forced into the task, but I would argue that the Ministry was still free from Voldemort's control, and Draco could have sought assistance either from the DMLE or from Dumbledore himself, to whom he had ready access at Hogwarts. Furthermore, although he didn't kill Dumbledore with his own wand, he allowed Death Eaters and Fenrir Greyback entry into Hogwarts, placing the students in grave danger.'

Looking up from his parchment, he gazed directly at Harry. 'I acknowledge and even commend Lord Black's generosity in advocating for Draco Malfoy, but I don't trust his judgment. Stated bluntly, Black's behaviour has been completely erratic for months, and I believe this is simply the latest in a series of misguided stunts. But unlike his other outbursts, this one places him in mortal peril, because we all know what will happen to him if he goes to Azkaban. I therefore urge you to vote against Potter's request—beg pardon, Black's request, both to safeguard wizarding justice and also the young man to whom we owe our present freedom.'

Bode sat down, and the secretary invited Harry to reply. But Harry paused first to collect himself after Bode's harsh attack. 'Director Bode, I'm sorry you think this is just a misguided stunt. While I acknowledge my recent behaviour has been unconventional, I would argue that it's been anything but erratic. My performance with the Chudley Cannons has been entirely consistent, and numerous members of this chamber can attest to my level-headedness.' Addressing the full court, he added, 'I suspect most of you have formed your opinion about me already, and there's nothing I can say now to prove whether I'm rational or not. But let me assure you, there are protections in place that give me complete confidence that Draco and I won't appear together as defendants in this chamber. I won't reveal the details, which are private, but I've shared them with key individuals, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, and they agree that I have nothing to worry about. I therefore ask that you approve my request and grant Draco Malfoy his immediate freedom.'

Harry heard murmurs of agreement and saw nods among many of the other members. Bode's shoulders drooped, but his jaw remained firm. He raised his wand again, and the secretary gave him the floor. 'Lord Black claims we've nothing to fear from Draco Malfoy, but can he say the same about his father, Lucius? The Aurors assigned to Azkaban—Lord Black's erstwhile colleagues—report that Malfoy and his fellow Death Eaters obsessively plot revenge against both Lord Black and wizarding Britain as a whole. And with Draco's release from house arrest, these monstrous criminals will have a well-placed agent to execute their schemes. I beg you to deny Lord Black's request and keep Draco Malfoy from destroying everything we've worked so hard to rebuild.'

Really? thought Harry incredulously. Hermione's right that wizards are completely illogical. He raised his wand and was granted the floor. 'Director Bode speaks passionately, and I'm touched by his concern for my safety. But he's overlooked an important point: Draco Malfoy is going to be released next summer regardless. The question then is whether to let him stew for another year before he can see his father and start taking orders, or to show mercy and give him a reason not to start a second career as a Death Eater. And really, he'd have to be pretty bloody daft to go that route, considering how well things worked out the first time around. Draco's no fool, and he has to realise that it's more sensible to work within wizarding society than to torch it like Lucius did.'

When Harry heard himself say 'bloody' he knew he should wrap things up. 'Thank you for considering my request, and hopefully I've convinced enough of you to allow Draco his freedom,' he said before sitting down. The lords murmured approval around him, and although Harry's heart was racing he felt a deep wave of calm.

Bode had no further comments, and his allies sat down as well. Chief Warlock Sledge said, 'Lord Black, please rise for the vote.' Harry stood, and the secretary asked all those who approved Harry's request to raise their lit wands. An overwhelming majority of wands went up, and Harry closed his eyes and exhaled. Only a handful voted against, including Bode and his allies, and several abstained. But even before the votes were counted, Narcissa threw her arms around Andromeda, and Harry could see she was crying.

'Lord Black's request is approved,' announced the secretary, and orders were given to remove the charms confining Draco to Malfoy Manor. Harry caught Narcissa's eye, and he was stunned by her expression of gratitude. No wonder people say she's beautiful, he thought.

He was tempted to leave, but he knew it would be bad form not to stick around and thank his fellow Wizengamot members. So he sat through several more gong intervals and participated in multiple uninteresting votes until the secretary called a recess. The gong rang once more, and the lords were upon him.

'Congratulations, Lord Black, and well done,' said Xanthus Fawley, and the others followed suit.

Harry acknowledged them, along with other key Wizengamot members. But Narcissa was waiting for him, and he found her near the exit. 'Harry, thank you,' she said, her eyes still shining with tears.

'You're welcome,' he said affectionately. 'I'm relieved it's over.'

'Well done,' declared Andromeda. 'You kept your temper, in spite of Bode's insults, and you were truly a credit to House Black.'

'You were,' said Narcissa. 'We mightn't agree on everything, but I'm proud you're Head of House.'

Harry was taken aback. 'Thank you, Narcissa. That means a lot to me.'

She closed her eyes and nodded, seemingly unable to speak.

'You needn't have stayed,' he told her. 'I'd have thought you'd want to tell Draco straight away.'

She smiled mischievously and pulled a small, ear-shaped device from her pocket. 'I believe you're familiar with these,' she said.

It was a niche product Lee had created, called Long-Distance Extendible Ears. They didn't have spying potential, since they required contact with a witch or wizard on both ends, but they were perfect for remote listening. 'I'm relieved you didn't show me in advance,' said Harry. 'I was already nervous, but knowing Draco was listening would have been too much.'

'He probably shrieked in terror when you said "bloody,"' said Andromeda, 'but fortunately you had the good sense to stop talking.'

He escorted the two witches from the chamber and waited with them near the lifts. Kingsley approached them and said, 'Harry, congratulations.'

'Cheers,' replied Harry, 'and thanks again for your support.'

Kingsley turned to Narcissa and said, 'Don't let Draco make a fool of us. You need to counterbalance Lucius.'

Narcissa stiffened, then nodded. 'I know,' she said simply. 'And I will.'

Harry rode upstairs with the sisters, and in the Atrium he said, 'Tell Draco I'll be over as soon as practice ends, which is usually around five o'clock. I promised we'd go flying.'

'Yes, just Floo to the drawing room and ask Nitta where to find him.'

She surprised Harry by embracing him—rigidly at first but then she relaxed. She'll never hug like Molly Weasley, he thought, but that was pretty good for someone without a lot of padding.

After Narcissa and Andromeda left, several Wizengamot members invited Harry to lunch at Pratt's, but he turned them down. 'I should get back to practice,' he said. 'Coach Tuttle has been more than understanding, but I don't want to provoke her.'

The wizards laughed and made sly comments about Ludo Bagman, and Harry went directly to the training grounds. He emerged from the main fireplace just as his teammates were finishing their morning session.

'Lord Black!' cried Suresh. 'Your new hat becomes you!'

'Oh, bugger,' blurted Harry, removing it. 'I forgot I was even wearing the bloody thing. I should hide the ring as well.'

'Nonsense,' said Janet. 'You should come to the pub with us just as you are—robes, ring, and all. We'll tell Candice it's the traditional regalia for Albanian aristocrats.'

'And what will you say when I start glowing?' asked Harry.

'Obliviate!' she replied. 'Next question?'

He shook his head. 'I think I'll change clothes and eat with the reserves.'

'Hang on, don't leave us in suspense ... how did your vote go?'

'Draco Malfoy is free, or he will be as soon as they remove the charms confining him.'

'Excellent!' she said cheerfully. 'Not only aren't you an Auror any longer, but now you've freed a Death Eater.'

Harry's face fell. 'It's not like that. I really believe this is the best way to prevent him from harming wizarding society.'

'I'm sorry, it was just a joke—I didn't mean to criticise you,' said Janet, her expression earnest.

'I know,' he sighed. 'I'm just sensitive because the head of the DMLE tore me a new arsehole for not using my Light magic for combat.'

'That's not your responsibility. If he wants to snap wands using Light magic, he can bloody well learn it himself.'

'Technically he's a bureaucrat and not an Auror,' said Harry. 'But even so, he has a point. If I were still an Auror, I'd be tremendously useful in the field.'

'Except you probably wouldn't have developed Light magic in the first place. Haven't you said it's because you're on a broomstick all day?'

'Yeah. There's no way I'd be a Light wizard if I hadn't quit the Ministry. But maybe I should go back.'

'Is that what you want?'

'No,' he said dully. 'Not even remotely. I was miserable there.'

'Then why are we even talking about this?' she asked. 'Clearly you were meant to show the wizarding world that Light magic is possible, and then they can clean up their act. It's not your job to fix everything.'

'Sorry, you're right. I think I was just having a prophecy flashback—thanks for talking me off the ledge.'

At lunch he tried wearing his Invisibility Cloak, as Waldemar had suggested, but the plan backfired. A nearby diner noticed Harry's food disappearing into thin air and yelled, 'Oh my god, it's Harry Potter and he's wearing his Invisibility Cloak!' A frenzy ensued, with strangers asking him to sign autographs without removing the Cloak, and he finally excused himself and Apparated back to the training grounds with his uneaten food.

Lara found him sitting cross-legged near her desk, eating his lunch. 'Did you and the reserves quarrel?' she asked.

'No, but I was too conspicuous, so I decided to come back here.'

'I'm sorry, Harry. It must get tiresome having no privacy.'

'It's not usually that bad. When I'm out on a date people usually let me alone. But all it takes is one over-exuberant stranger, and then I'm overrun.'

'Is your Light magic getting any easier to control?' she asked. 'I know the starters miss you, and apparently the waitress has been asking after you.'

'No, it's getting harder to control. I have no idea when I'll be able to eat with the starters again, unless they all come to my house.'

'That sounds like fun—I'm sure they'll want to do that at least once a week.'

He liked her suggestion, and he decided to have Kreacher serve lunch several times a week for whoever wanted to turn up, and to go to Pratt's the rest of the time. Presumably his Light magic would eventually settle down and he could return to the village pub, dropping ominous hints to Candice about his long secret mission.

When the starters returned, Darren pulled him aside. 'Snitchbottom, I have to thank you for the shout-out last night. I was with Maryann and Jocelyn at a swanky cafe, and they were playing your broadcast of course, and everyone cheered when you mentioned my name and called me a bad influence. And I got an owl from Fenella this morning saying she's received more offers on my behalf.'

'Is that the publicist?'

'Yeah. And it goes without saying that she'd love to work with you, but I assume you're not interested.'

Harry grimaced. 'Generally speaking, no. Although I would like to go to a nightclub tomorrow night, as long as there's good music and a decent crowd.'

'Brilliant! Do you need a date, or will Alex join you?'

'She'll be with me,' replied Harry, smiling.

'Will she mind if I bring Maryann and Jocelyn?'

'Not at all, but make sure they know I'm not up for a fivesome.'

'But that would officially push us over the orgy threshold,' argued Darren. 'I looked it up.'

'No,' said Harry firmly. 'I'd just ignore them and focus on Alex. And besides, the bed isn't endless.'

'Fine—I'll owl Fenella after practice and set things up.'

Harry flew on the Silver Arrow that afternoon, since they hadn't yet heard back from Randolph Spudmore. 'You were right and I was wrong,' he said to Gemma during the practice match.

'I'm sorry, could you repeat that?'

'You were right and I was wrong. The Firebolt Ultra is better than the Silver Arrow. Now that I know how to fly it properly, I'm addicted to the extra kick. I should probably owl Krum and tell him as well.'

'This is what's so much fun about you, Toffer,' said Gemma. 'I've more or less forgotten how awestruck I once was by you and just see you as another teammate, but then you casually mention your old friend Viktor Krum. Will you be knocking about next with Prince William?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Prince William has never heard of me.'

'Don't be so sure. I've heard the Queen knows about magic and has a court wizard, mostly for protection.'

'That might actually be true,' admitted Harry. 'One of Kingsley Shacklebolt's duties during the war was protecting the Muggle Prime Minister.'

'So they do know about you!' she cried. 'You need to leverage this somehow!'

'Er, why?'

'To hobnob with the Muggle elite! You could fly on private jets to the Swiss Alps and seduce Bavarian princesses!'

'But I'd just be some random Brit with a common name and uncontrollable hair. Unless you're proposing I completely violate the Statute of Secrecy.'

'Of course not. But Prince William would vouch for you, and you could call yourself Harry Potter-Black.' Her eyes grew wide, 'Or the Queen could knight you! You totally deserve it, and she gives out knighthoods like sweets nowadays.'

'Brilliant, just what I always wanted—another bloody title.'

'But you'd have earned this one, as opposed to the Blacks just buying it. And besides, it'll come in handy if there's ever a Squib in the family ... they'd get the Muggle title as a sort of consolation prize. They'd be Lord or Lady Potter-Black and slide seamlessly into the Muggle elite.'

Harry shook his head in disbelief. 'I think you've gone way overboard. First off, you just upgraded my imaginary knighthood to some kind of hereditary peerage.'

'Yes, you'll need to be an earl at the very least.'

'Right. And you've also massively increased my net worth, to the point where even my descendants have enough gold to enter the Muggle upper class.'

Gesturing dismissively, she said, 'You're bound to have at least one kid who decides to rebel against Hero Dad by bribing Ministry officials and selling charmed corsets. They'll make a fortune, even if you don't, and since they'll be doing it in a desperate bid to win your approval, you can demand they establish a vault specifically for any Potter or Black Squibs who might come along.'

Harry, who was finding the conversation deeply disturbing, was sorely tempted to feint. But instead he asked, 'Do you really think my kids will be that fucked up?'

'News flash, Toffer: All kids are fucked up. Yours will just be uniquely fucked up because you're such a bloody weirdo.'

Frowning, Harry took off at top speed towards his own Beaters, snaking though them unerringly before shooting upwards towards the rings. He then raced across the pitch several times before resuming his circling pattern.

Gemma joined him and said, 'It seems I touched a nerve. I'd apologise, but technically that's my job as reserve Seeker.'

'It is your job, and yes, you touched a nerve. It's one thing to be a freak, which I know I am, but then to hear it'll screw up my kids ...'

'You weren't listening, Toffer. All kids are fucked up, full stop. I'm Rees fucked-up, you're Potter fucked-up, and your kids will be Potter-Black fucked-up. They'll spend their whole lives overcoming it, just like you're doing bit by bit.'

Harry thought about Gemma's statement. Ron is definitely Weasley fucked-up, but he's already come a long way. He couldn't say whether Hermione was Granger fucked-up, since he still didn't know much about her parents, but clearly she had her own issues. Merlin knows Sirius was fucked up, and I probably got a dose of that as well. And then there's Draco. Harry paused to consider what it must have been like to be Lucius Malfoy's only child. Draco was probably told he was better than everyone else but also unworthy of the Malfoy name. No wonder he's such a headcase.

'I suppose in addition to the Squib support vault I should set aside gold to pay Mind Healers to un-fuck-up my kids.'

She looked at him in surprise. 'Does this mean you're planning to bribe Ministry officials and sell charmed corsets?'

Bugger! he thought. 'No, of course not. Women don't even wear corsets anymore, right?'

'You've probably seen more naked women than I have by now. But no, we don't.'

He let the conversation drift away from dangerous waters, and not long afterwards Gemma made the catch. They'd spotted the Snitch simultaneously from different ends of the pitch, but her broom was faster. 'Congratulations,' said Harry. 'I'm sure the team observers took note.'

'I know,' she said smugly. 'As much as I love being a Cannon, they're my ticket to starterhood.'

'Don't leave too soon,' he urged her, but she shook her head reassuringly.

'I won't—Owen convinced me it's worth spending a year learning all your tricks. And then one day we'll be legendary arch-rivals, which means our old Cannons photographs will have huge resale value. Which reminds me—I need you to slap your autograph on a pile of photos. I'll do the same and then stash them somewhere for safekeeping.'

'Will you at least buy me dinner on the eventual proceeds?' he asked.

'Yes, but only if you buy me a castle with your corset profits.'

After practice, Harry changed into robes and brought two broomsticks to Malfoy Manor. He emerged from the fireplace into an empty drawing room, where he tentatively called Nitta. 'How may Nitta help Mr Potter?' she asked, appearing before him.

'I'm looking for Draco,' he replied. 'Do you know where I can find him?'

'Master Draco is outside—Nitta will show the way.'

Moving much more quickly than Kreacher, she led Harry to what she called the breakfast room and through a pair of French windows to a patio. There he found Pansy Parkinson, Blaise Zabini, and Daphne Greengrass, who were nibbling on crudités and drinking what looked like champagne.

'Well, if it isn't Harry Potter-Black,' declared Pansy. 'Wearing robes, flowers, and everything. If only I'd placed that wager.'

'What wager?' asked Daphne. 'Nobody took you up on it.' Turning to Harry, she said, 'Do sit down, and have a drink. You're the man of the hour, after all. Not counting the other man of the hour.' She indicated Draco, who was flying far overhead.

'Did he really abandon his guests to go flying?' asked Harry incredulously.

'Believe me, he's being an ideal host,' said Pansy. 'He's been miserably earthbound for the last fourteen months, and perfectly ghastly to be around. If Malfoy Manor weren't the loveliest house in all of England, I should have left off visiting ages ago. But now I get to enjoy its comforts without listening to Draco whinge the entire time.' To emphasise her point, she called, 'Nitta! I'd like more champagne. Harry, what will you have?'

'Do you have any fruit pressés?' he asked.

'Bring Harry champagne too,' ordered Pansy, and the elf disappeared. 'Really, Harry ... fruit pressé? That's positively Muggle! I thought you were a Slytherin now.'

'He's a Light Slytherin,' said Blaise. 'Uncharted territory.'

'No it isn't,' replied Harry. 'My teacher Davina was in Slytherin, and there are bound to be others as well.'

'I still don't believe you were re-Sorted,' said Pansy. 'Go on, show us your boxers.'

He pulled out a handkerchief. 'Will this do?'

'For now,' she said. 'But I insist on seeing your taut Seeker's body one of these days.'

Harry's eyebrows shot up, and Blaise explained. 'Pansy's what's known as an "Everything but" pure-blood. She's still suitable marriage material, if you know what I mean, but she has plenty of experience.'

'Yes, I'm familiar with the type,' replied Harry, thinking of Vanessa.

'Unfortunately for Draco, Pansy withdrew access aeons ago,' said Daphne. 'So he's had to make do with imports for the last year.'

'There's nothing wrong with imports,' remarked Blaise. 'Wouldn't you agree, Harry?'

'I'm sorry, I'm completely gobsmacked right now,' admitted Harry. 'Imports?'

'Yes, Narcissa negotiated with Madame Lalouche herself—a conversation I'd have loved to witness,' said Blaise. 'But now Draco is free to visit France directly, as part of his—what did you call it? Healing process?'

'He was furious about your night of six times,' interjected Pansy. 'First he thought it was a lie, and then he was sure you'd taken some kind of potion. But in the end I convinced him it was just emotional trauma and Light magic. So if you think about it, he's halfway there.'

Befuddled, Harry asked, 'Does Draco still have access to Pratt's, even with Lucius in Azkaban?'

'Of course he does,' replied Daphne. 'They won't kick a wizard out, as long as he keeps paying the dues.'

'That's what Harry was counting on,' observed Blaise. 'You really had them over a barrel with your Light magic.'

Harry finally tried the champagne Pansy had forced on him. 'Sweet Merlin, this is good!' he exclaimed. Much better than Prosecco, he noted internally.

'You can't beat the Malfoy wine cellar,' declared Pansy. 'It's easily the best in Britain, and it's probably the other reason Draco didn't go completely around the bend this past year. Although Narcissa might send him somewhere to dry out if he doesn't change his ways.'

'I'd have thought the Death Eaters would have cleaned out the wine cellar during the war,' said Harry, trying to get into the swing of the conversation.

'They did,' replied Pansy. 'But when word got out the Ministry was going to confiscate half their gold, Lucius ordered Narcissa to owl their wine merchant and buy everything worth having. He scoured the Continent, so it's probably even better than before.'

'Weren't there still Dementors in Azkaban then?' asked Harry.

'Yes, but apparently the burning desire to have the best wine cellar in Europe doesn't count as a happy thought, so Lucius was able to hang onto it.'

Harry looked up at Draco, who was still swooping about. 'Should I go join him?'

'Probably,' said Pansy. 'But don't let this be the last time we gossip without Draco around. I'm part of your club now, right?'

My club? thought Harry. 'Er, if you like.'

'Good, I want to go to your next party. I still can't believe you invited Theo, Blaise, and Daphne, but not me.'

'I'm sorry,' he said. 'I was new to hosting parties and wanted to take things slowly. Is there anyone else I left out?"

'Millicent, but that's no matter. Her parents sent her to live with cousins in Australia—they're hoping she'll find a husband there. And of course Greg's in Azkaban, poor thing. But he was alarmingly fond of torturing people, so he'd have landed there eventually.'

Harry finished his champagne and stood up. 'Right. Time to pay my respects to our host.'

'Go easy on him,' cautioned Pansy. 'He's still unhappy you're the league's best Seeker.'

Harry reached into his pouch and pulled out the Firebolt Ultra he'd borrowed from the Cannons. Oh yes, he thought with excitement, stepping over it. In an instant he was aloft, and he zoomed after Draco. 'Malfoy!' he cried. 'How does it feel to be on a broomstick again?'

'I practically need to charm my trousers,' replied Draco exultantly. 'By Salazar, I missed this! What are you flying?'

'The Firebolt Ultra. What about you?'

'Nimbus 2200. When it came time to replace my Nimbus 2001, before seventh year, I refused to buy a Firebolt on principle. Furthermore, they hadn't released the Ultra yet, and I didn't want a three-year old model. Spudmore is terribly slow to release new brooms.'

'It was worth the wait,' said Harry. 'Although you'll hate it.'

'Will I?' said Draco defiantly. 'What makes you so sure.'

'Because I used to hate it, until I learnt how to fly on crap brooms.'

'That's not a glowing endorsement,' said Draco.

'I could glow if you like.'

'No thanks. I'm still recovering from Sunday's Prophet. Shall we race?'

'I'd love to, but how far do the wards extend?'

'Just beyond that elm tree,' replied Draco.

'Blimey!' exclaimed Harry when he saw how far it was. 'You could have a full pitch out here!'

'We do, on the other side of that wood,' said Draco, pointing in the opposite direction. 'But I assumed you'd rather show off for the girls.'

Harry ignored Draco's insinuation. 'Let's just race to the elm, straight shot. And then we can try it again, only we'll trade brooms.'

'Fine, but I know what you're doing.'

'What am I doing?'

'You don't want to embarrass me with what you assume is your superior flying.'

'I'm smaller than you,' replied Harry. 'You're not going to win a race, particularly if it involves turns. Gemma beats me all the time.'

'So I've heard—she's apparently the next big thing. But can't we just measure our weight difference and give you some ballast?'

'We could do, although I might need to get used to it.'

'That's fine—I'm still getting used to flying,' said Draco. 'We'll land and have Nitta fetch the scales.'

They landed on the patio and Draco called the house-elf. 'Why are you back already?' Pansy asked Harry. 'We've only just begun gossiping about you.'

Harry explained their plan, and Pansy scowled. 'I told you to go easy on him!' she hissed.

'But I'd have won easily if I weighed less—he'd just get frustrated.'

'He could have used your size as an excuse,' argued Pansy. 'Which would have the added bonus of making him feel superior for being so much taller.'

'I'm not going to coddle him,' replied Harry. 'I'm certain he'll cope if I'm the faster flyer.'

'Can't you slow down?' she whispered. 'He won't know.'

'Yes he will. And he'll be far more upset if I let him win than if I just beat him.'

'Fine, but don't come crying to me when he blows up at you.'

'Potter,' called Draco. 'Come here, I have the scales.'

They weighed themselves, and then Nitta transfigured Harry's clothing and shoes to make them heavier. 'Blimey, how do you carry this around all day?' he asked Draco.

'Superior breeding,' he drawled. 'All you have is a Black strain and a whiff of Peverell.'

Harry rolled his eyes before mounting his broomstick again. Fortunately his added weight was less burdensome in the air, although it required some adjustments. 'I'm sure my weight wouldn't be distributed like this if I were taller,' said Harry.

'Are you already making excuses? That's just pitiful.'

They flew upwards, and Harry took a minute to adjust to his new physics. This isn't so bad, he thought, flying a tight solo drill. Rejoining Draco, he said, 'Race to the elm?'

Draco nodded. 'On three.' He counted down and they were off.

The distance was long enough that Harry felt his Light magic arise as he flew, and it was thrilling to feel the Firebolt kick into overdrive. Unsurprisingly, he beat Draco by a healthy margin.

'Well done, Spudmore,' said Draco. 'That's some impressive acceleration. Shall we swap?'

Harry nodded, and they flew to the ground and switched brooms. 'Try some turns,' Harry suggested.

Draco took off and tested the Firebolt Ultra, and even from a distance Harry could see him scowl. 'How did this make it past testing?' he asked.

'I know, I used to hate it too. But let's race again.'

They identified a new target, and Draco counted down. This broom isn't bad, thought Harry, but it's not particularly interesting either.

Draco was frustrated when Harry won again, albeit by a smaller margin. 'That should have been a straight comparison,' he exclaimed in disbelief. 'We didn't even turn, and I was at maximum acceleration.'

'It's because you never learnt to squeeze the last bit of speed from a crap broom,' said Harry. 'And neither had I.' He explained all the tweaks Bruce had taught him, and Draco rolled his eyes.

'This sounds like a deliberate attempt on the part of broom makers to give poor people an unfair advantage,' he grumbled.

'Please tell me you're joking.'

'What do you think?'

'Honestly, I'm not sure,' replied Harry.

'Neither am I,' admitted Draco. 'But why does flying have to be this complicated? It's supposed to just work.'

'Yes, because you're a natural, or you learnt so early that you might as well be. But believe me, learning those tricks is worth the effort. Do you want to try the Silver Arrow now?'

Draco did want to try it, so they landed again and Harry reclaimed the Firebolt Ultra. 'This is good,' declared Draco after taking some sharp turns. 'No wonder you all but endorsed it.'

'I know, but I'm relieved I didn't.'

'You really should have done,' scolded Draco. 'At the time I thought you turned it down because you didn't need the gold, but then it turned out the Blacks left you next to nothing.'

'Next to nothing?' exclaimed Harry. 'Just how spoilt are you?'

Draco ignored his question. 'Obviously it's enough for one person, if you live modestly enough. But you're a Head of House—the idea is to pass down a fortune so the family doesn't crumble into obscurity. How familiar are you with the Gaunts?'

'More than I'd like to be,' replied Harry. 'I saw where Voldemort's mother grew up, and it was hardly more than a shack.'

'Yes, and I'll wager there was a Gaunt generations earlier who turned down the equivalent of Silver Arrow because he didn't need the gold.'

'Because he was too busy shagging his sister, more like,' said Harry, and Draco chuckled.

'At least there's no risk you'll do that,' he scoffed, before looking at Harry to gauge his reaction.

'I've heard every possible orphan taunt,' Harry assured him.

'Oh well, you can't blame a wizard for trying. But back to your appalling financial status: even if you don't marry your non-existent sister, you could easily turn the Blacks into the Weasleys.'

'Why are you harping on this?' asked Harry. 'I already agreed to rebuild the Black fortune, and I've taken steps.'

'Have you? Anything good?'

Harry knew better than to tell Draco about the condom scheme. 'On Friday after practice I have a meeting at Gringotts, where Blaise will present his business proposal. It sounded good to me, but I want the goblins to look it over.'

'I suppose that's not awful,' said Draco, 'but it's rather tame. Didn't Andromeda tell you to take risks?'

'You mean risk going to prison for bribery?'

'No one goes to prison for that. You just need the right connections, and believe me, you have them.'

'Not interested,' lied Harry. 'Next topic?'

Draco was quiet for a moment. 'I should probably thank you at some point.'

'Oh right. I risked my freedom for you this morning and irreversibly antagonised Merrick Bode. How frightened were you during the session? Your mother showed me the Extendible Ear.'

'Let's just say I alternated between swigs of Firewhisky and Calming Draughts. Same with during your broadcast last night ... did you really need to strip naked?'

'I kept my boxers on.'

'Now there's a sentence you probably don't say very often,' he said dryly. 'I was impressed you didn't mount your newest girlfriend then and there.'

'I'm still waiting for you to thank me.'

'I was hoping you wouldn't notice that. Give me a few more minutes, all right?'

'Of course, take your time.'

Draco flew aggressively for a minute before returning to Harry's side. 'You made me sound like I'm damaged.'

Harry sighed. 'What should I have said?'

'I don't know. I was hoping you could just bat your eyelashes and they'd all vote in my favour.'

'Bode was out for blood,' said Harry. 'I talked to him before the session and it was clear he was going to fight tooth and nail.'

'You had the votes already,' argued Draco.

'And how would you feel if I hadn't made an effort, but instead said, "Hi, Harry Potter here! Vote to free Draco, as a favour to me. And no, I won't say why."'

'I'd want to curse off your well-travelled bollocks. Only my wand doesn't work.'

'My well-travelled bollocks,' quoted Harry. 'That would be a good name for my first memoir.'

'Please tell me no one has approached you to write a memoir.'

'No one has approached you to write a memoir.'

Draco glared at him. 'I still hate you, Potter.'

'I know.'

They flew together to the Quidditch pitch, and Draco tested the handling on the Silver Arrow by attempting sharp turns around the rings. 'Have you ever tried Plocking from the back of the rings?'

'No, but that's a brilliant idea. Which reminds me, do you want to attend the match on Saturday? It's against Pride of Portree.'

'I know—I could recite the entire league schedule for you. And yes, I'd love to attend.'

'I have five tickets left,' said Harry. 'Do you want all of them?'

Draco nodded. 'I won't have to hold a banner for you, will I?'

'I don't know ... do you still have those "Potter Stinks" badges?'

'No, but I could make some more, assuming my wand will let me.'

'I can't believe you'd have more fun practising Dark magic than you're having whinging about your wand.'

'How would you feel if you couldn't practise Light magic for two years?'

'I'd hate it. But I refuse to accept that there's any comparison between the two.'

'At least Dark wizards don't embarrass themselves telling strangers how much they love them,' sneered Draco.

'Yes, that's been positively mortifying,' said Harry sarcastically. 'But fortunately I have the intense bliss to console me.'

'Get a room, Potter.'

'If you insist, but don't tell Pansy where I've gone.'

'Did she throw herself at you already?' asked Draco.

'She did. But not to worry, I'm used to it.'

Draco looked at him appraisingly. 'I thought you gave up arrogant taunting. That's what you told Rita Skeeter.'

'I did,' replied Harry, 'but you seem to draw it out of me.'

'That's a relief. I was afraid I'd missed my chance.'

'Your chance at what?'

'Unrestrained verbal sparring. We'll never have a proper battle with wands, and as much as I hate to admit it, you're probably the better flyer. But I bet we could rip each other to shreds verbally.'

'Were you always this warped, or is house arrest to blame?'

'It's been a gradual process,' replied Draco. 'Although it accelerated when Aunt Bella escaped from Azkaban.'

'I'm hard pressed to say which of us had the worse aunt,' observed Harry. 'But at least you have Andromeda as well.'

'So do you.'

'She's not technically my aunt.'

'No, but you're obviously her favourite, now that you've bribed her.'

'Do we need to go over this again?'

'Not really,' admitted Draco. 'But let's land—I'm parched.'

They flew back down to the patio, where the party had grown to include Theo Nott. 'Draco, congratulations!' he said warmly.

'Yes, I got away with it. Father was delighted.'

'You saw your father already?' asked Harry.

'Of course I did. I hadn't seen him in over a year.'

Harry felt distinctly uncomfortable. 'Has he changed much?'

'Yes, for the better. The last time I saw him they still had Dementors at Azkaban. But now it's just a holiday camp for Squibs.'

'He's exaggerating,' said Theo. 'The maximum-security level is dismal, to say the least.'

'True, but he has all his mates with him. Speaking of which, I have a message from Travers.'

'Do I want to hear it?' asked Harry.

'Probably not.'

Harry sat back and listened while the others spoke. They arranged to attend the Cannons match together, and toasts were made to Draco's freedom. Everyone except Draco thanked Harry for making it happen, and Harry decided not to press the issue. Narcissa had thanked him that morning, which had touched him more than he'd anticipated. It's almost like having a third aunt, he admitted to himself.

The group started debating where to get dinner, and no one protested when Harry bowed out. On a whim, however, he invited them to join him at the nightclub on Thursday. 'It'll probably be mayhem,' he warned, 'and there'll definitely be photographers, but you're more than welcome.'

'I'm in,' declared Blaise. 'Wizarding nightclubs are an outpost of Muggle debauchery, which I strongly support.'

Daphne declined, stating that she was 'the other kind of pure-blood witch,' but Pansy eagerly assented. 'Draco, you have to come,' she insisted. 'You need to prove that no one can pull off Death Eater robes like an actual Death Eater. Perhaps you can even roll up your sleeve to reveal your Mark.'

Harry caught Draco's eye, and Draco shook his head minutely. Interesting, he thought. I wonder why he hasn't told them.

He excused himself, and everyone rose to see him off. Daphne gave him her customary air-kiss, and Blaise and Theo shook his hand. Pansy did her best Romilda Vane imitation with a full-contact hug, then Draco was before him.

'See you tomorrow, Potter,' he said, not extending his hand. 'And thanks for letting me try those two brooms. I'm tempted by the Silver Arrow.'

'I don't blame you,' said Harry. 'See you tomorrow.'

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place, where he ate dinner alone and responded to fan mail. He kept thinking about his conversation with Draco, which was unlike any they'd had before. Blaise was right, he thought. He sees me as an equal. Harry sensed that risking his own freedom had been essential, and later, when Light magic overtook him, he knew in his bones that he and Draco had crossed a new threshold.

He's hungry for this friendship, Harry realised. And frankly, so am I.