Gemma ran alongside Harry on Thursday morning. 'I hope you can live with yourself, Toffer,' she declared.

'I'm sorry, what?'

'After the way you led us on for the past three days. That was just cruel.'

Harry was puzzled. 'Are you talking about lunch?'

'Yes. Three brilliant days of completely over-the-top house-elf cookery, followed by ... nothing.'

'That's because you and the other Cannons ate everything.'

'But Kreacher can just make more!' she argued. 'He was mortified, serving leftovers day after day, and now you're denying him the opportunity to cook something fresh.'

'To cook you something fresh, more like,' retorted Harry. 'And I can't believe you're complaining, after getting three free meals. Frankly, you sound a bit entitled.'

'You're calling me entitled? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Or the Potter, rather.'

'Potter-Black,' he corrected. 'I'm making an announcement soon.'

'Shouldn't you wait until everyone buys your glowing merchandise first, so they'll have to shell out for the Potter-Black version as well?'

'No, because I'm going to pay to have any Potter merchandise altered.'

'Very sneaky, Black. You'll look all generous and noble, but nobody's going to take you up on it. Either they'll want the old-school Potter merchandise, because it's retro, or they'll want both. You'll make a fortune, same as you always do.'

Harry scowled. 'You're making me sound greedy.'

'No, that's what's so funny about it. You're not even slightly greedy, from what I can tell, but money just seems to find you. Like cats gathering around a tin of tuna.'

'That's a really weird metaphor. But I'm worried I am becoming greedy, or at least over-ambitious. Not for my own sake necessarily, but because I'm now on the hook for two extended families.'

'It's not greedy if it's for someone else,' said Gemma. 'At least that's what you can tell yourself when you're shivering in your Y-fronts during an endless photo shoot. Have they scheduled it yet?'

'No, but it'll have to be on a Sunday, which I'm not thrilled about.'

'Promise me you'll lecture your spoilt offspring about how you worked seven days a week at their age.' Sniggering, she added, 'Be sure to say you worked your fingers to the bone.'

'Oi! My fingers won't be involved! And my offspring won't be spoilt.'

'Yes they will, Toffer. The only reason you weren't spoilt is because your parents died and you were stuck with shitty relations. But now you've returned to form.'

'Is it too late to hire Stuart as reserve chaser?' he grumbled.

'Yes. And you wanted someone who could take the piss, which is exactly what I'm doing.'

Frowning, Harry asked, 'Am I really spoilt? I grew up with an extremely spoilt cousin, and I don't think I'm like him. Or am I?'

'No, I'm just hassling you,' said Gemma. 'Unless you throw tantrums, of course.'

'Er, I occasionally deliver tirades.'

'Not the same,' she said. 'But be careful—between Glare-y Potter and your extravagance, you'll get a reputation.'

'Glare-y Potter-Black,' he mumbled.

During the flying drills that morning, Harry used the Firebolt Ultra, even though it was still misbehaving. Davina had suggested he test whether it could help him through the accidental magic phase. 'If it only acts up when your Light magic is out of balance, you can use that feedback to smooth things out,' she said.

It might be working, he thought. The broom still behaved erratically, but several times that morning he aligned with the anticipated kick, and it flowed through his entire body and not just through the broom.

'Randolph Spudmore is crazy not to talk to you,' said Suresh. 'Based on your facial expression, that broom has a secondary market that has nothing to do with flying.'

'It's probably a good thing I can't use it in a match,' said Harry blissfully. 'But how in Merlin's name did the Dark Arts get the sexy reputation?'

'Vampires,' declared Janet. 'And pure-blood decorating.'

'Pure-blood decorating is brilliant,' sighed Harry. 'And less than seven hours until I see Alex.'

'She'll be cross. You promised you'd ask someone else out, but you aren't even trying to meet other women.'

'Is this because I wouldn't go out with Darren last night?'

'Yes,' said Janet. 'It was an ideal pulling opportunity, but you just stayed home moping about Alex.'

'I was replying to fan mail! And besides, I refuse to judge a wet T-shirt contest.'

'You could have worn your Wizengamot robes. And the hat!'

'Even I have my limits,' said Harry. 'I'd sooner model underwear than do that.'

'Fine, but you're letting Alex down.'

Before lunch, Harry showered and returned alone to Grimmauld Place. 'Kreacher, you should serve in the dining room,' he said. 'Although it's tempting to give Draco a heart attack by serving down here.'

'Kreacher could never serve Master Draco in the kitchen,' announced the elf.

'Why is that worse than serving me in the kitchen, or Lydia for that matter?'

'Master Draco is a proper Black, unlike Master,' said Kreacher simply.

Was that an insult? Harry wondered. 'I'm the last person to call myself a proper Black, but why don't you think I am?'

'Because Master is a blood traitor and dallies with witches.'

Harry looked carefully at Kreacher. 'Are you all right? You don't normally talk like this.'

'Kreacher is a very bad elf,' he said forlornly. 'Kreacher has brought shame upon his lineage by serving such an improper wizard.'

'Did I do something wrong?' asked Harry, bewildered, before remembering what day it was. 'You visited Walburga, didn't you!'

'Yes, Master. Kreacher spent half an hour with Mistress this morning.'

'Did she scold you for serving me?'

He nodded. 'Mistress said Kreacher is the worst of all elves and should be cast out for serving the half-blood abomination who has brought ignominy and ruin upon House Black.'

Harry knelt down to face the elf directly. 'I'm sorry—it's not fair that you don't get a choice about serving me. But you're allowed to ask for clothes if that's what you want.'

Kreacher went rigid with terror. 'No, Master! Please, not clothes!'

'No, only if you want them, which it sounds like you don't,' he said, and Kreacher relaxed slightly. 'But are you unhappy serving me?'

Looking down, Kreacher muttered something Harry couldn't hear.

'I'm sorry, what was that?' asked Harry.

'Kreacher is very happy serving Master,' mumbled the elf.

'So what's the problem? It doesn't matter what Walburga thinks. For Merlin's sake, she's just a portrait, and not even sentient!'

'It wasn't just Mistress,' he said. 'Some of the other portraits also scolded Kreacher.'

'They scolded me too,' said Harry. 'That's why I had you return them to the guest rooms. But that was very unkind of them to scold you, when you don't have a choice about serving me. Whereas I've freely chosen to be a promiscuous blood traitor.'

'Kreacher would freely serve Master,' insisted the elf. 'Master entertains frequently and likes flowers and takes breakfast in bed with witches. And Master is a Light wizard.'

Harry blinked. 'Does that affect you?'

'Yes, Master. Kreacher feels when Master is glowing.'

He feels it through the house-elf bond, thought Harry in amazement. 'Have I ever glowed around you?'

'No, Master. But Kreacher feels it.'

Harry's Light magic arose, starting with glowing hands but then spreading through his body. 'What do you feel?' he asked gently.

'Kreacher feels happy,' began the elf, and the tufts of hair in his ears began to glow. 'And grateful. Even though Light magic is an abomination.'

'Is that what Walburga and the other portraits told you?'

'Yes, Master.'

Harry looked Kreacher in the eye. 'They're mistaken. Light magic is brilliant, and I'm thrilled you can experience it too.'

'Kreacher's former masters practised Dark magic, not Light,' he said sadly.

'Oh my god, did you feel that too?'

'Yes, Master. It made Kreacher powerful.'

'You're already powerful,' said Harry. 'All Dark magic did was concentrate your power around a negative emotion, like anger or contempt.' He allowed his Light magic to flow more strongly, specifically so the elf would feel it.

The tips of Kreacher's ears lit up like tiny bulbs, and Harry asked, 'How does Light magic affect your power?'

Kreacher reached and pressed his hand to Harry's shoulder, and a dense shield of blue light flashed around Harry's body. 'Kreacher will protect Master,' he declared.

Harry felt the protection, which resonated with his own magic. 'Thank you, Kreacher,' he said sincerely. 'I'm very lucky to have you.'

They both turned when the kitchen fireplace flared green. 'Harry, are you down here?' called George. 'Oh, there you are—whoa!'

Harry—and Kreacher's ears—were still glowing, although the blue shield had disappeared. 'It's all right,' said Harry. 'Kreacher and I were just having a moment.' He silently thanked the elf again and rose to greet George.

'Am I the first to arrive?' asked George. 'Or are Percy and Malfoy already upstairs?'

'You're the first, and thanks for agreeing to this.'

'I haven't agreed to anything, but I'm willing to hear him out. Are you sure you trust him?'

'Oddly, yes,' replied Harry, and Percy was next to arrive.

'Oh!' exclaimed Percy. 'Do you plan to glow the whole time?'

'I still don't have much control, but no,' said Harry, starting to dim. 'Thanks for coming.'

'I was intrigued,' said Percy. 'But don't tell Dad I'm considering doing business with a Malfoy.'

They walked upstairs, since Draco was due to arrive through the formal fireplace. 'What does he know so far about the condom scheme?' asked George.

'It's not a scheme,' insisted Percy. 'It's a business venture aimed at solving a well-documented problem.'

'Well-documented?' asked Harry. 'Did you research it?'

'I went to a Muggle library and researched it on the internet,' he replied. 'It would appear to be a widespread concern, based on the number of products available, not to mention surgical procedures.'

'Surgical procedures!' gasped George. 'With a knife?'

Harry's gut clenched in horror, and Percy said, 'I'm afraid so. Which tells you just how motivated our market sector is.'

Green flames appeared in the reception hall fireplace, and an elegantly-clad Draco stepped out. He smirked when he saw Harry's companions. 'I knew you'd be here,' he said, indicating George, 'but I hadn't expected this one. What's your name again?'

'Percy Weasley.'

Draco feigned surprise. 'Weasley? Of the Burrow Weasleys? I never would have guessed from your appearance. Were you adopted, perhaps?'

'Could you at least try not to be an arsehole for ten minutes?' said Harry. 'I thought you wanted to join our venture.'

'I'm not worried,' replied Draco. 'Now that I know who's involved, I'm more convinced than ever you need my help.'

'We'll see,' said Percy. 'I've done my homework.'

'Yes, although not in the Restricted Section,' said Draco. 'But let's get to business—we mustn't make the league's best Seeker late for practice.'

They entered the dining room and sat at one end of the long table. Turning to Draco, Percy said, 'Harry says you want to invest even though you don't know any of the details. Would you care to explain why?'

'Several reasons,' replied Draco. 'One: I'm keen to rebuild the family fortune. Two: Muggles vastly outnumber wizards, which means that's where the money is. Three: Thanks to his appalling upbringing, Potter understands Muggles better than I ever will. And four: Everything Potter touches turns to gold, and I want in.'

'I make no promises about number four,' said Harry, but Draco waved his hand dismissively.

'You don't do anything by halves,' he argued. 'Everything in your life is either triumph or tragedy, and in this case I'm the deciding factor. If I'm involved, the Ministry side will go smoothly and we'll make millions. And if I'm not involved, you'll wind up in Azkaban and your life will be over.'

Harry glanced at Percy. 'How confident are you about your Ministry contacts?' he asked.

'Very,' said Percy, but his voice cracked. 'Very,' he repeated.

'Show me their names,' said Draco. 'You have a list, right?'

Percy pulled out a blank parchment, and after performing a charm on it, a long list of names appeared. 'See for yourself.'

Draco scanned the list. Smirking, he said, 'Potter, do you know if your florist will deliver to Azkaban?'

'He's bluffing,' said George. 'He just wants to steal our idea and bring it to market himself.'

'No he doesn't,' said Harry. I don't know why I trust him, he thought, but I do. 'Draco, how different is Percy's list to yours?'

Draco looked again at the list. 'More than half the names are different, and I know for certain you have at least two informants. You'll never succeed without my help.

Addressing George and Percy, Harry said, 'I won't proceed without Draco. You can have the idea if you want, but I'm out unless he's in.'

The brothers glanced at each other, and Percy said, 'We need a chain of authority. I won't have Malfoy second-guessing all of our decisions.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Do I look like I want to micro-manage a business?'

'Yes,' said George. 'And you'll insult us every step of the way.'

'But that's the best part!' Draco protested. 'Tell them, Potter.'

'It's true,' said Harry. 'Insulting Draco is endlessly entertaining. But George is right about the micro-managing. Your role needs to be limited to Ministry interactions.'

'They're called bribes,' said Draco wryly. 'And yes, that's my area of expertise. Father had me observe his business meetings at the Manor from behind a charmed wall, ever since I was fourteen.'

Harry turned again to the Weasleys. 'Say what you will about Lucius Malfoy, he was an expert in bribery.'

'I also know how not to overpay,' added Draco. 'That's crucial, you know.'

Percy and George appeared to be wavering. 'We'll have to work out a valuation,' said Percy. 'You're not going to bully us into giving you unfair terms.'

'I should hope not,' said Draco. 'If I can bully you, you'll be helpless against the goblins.' In a less confident tone, he asked, 'So am I in? You need me, and I really want to be a part of it.'

Percy took a deep breath. 'You've convinced me. George, what about you?'

'Yes, all right. But remember I have an arsenal of prank items, and I'm not afraid to use them.'

Everyone relaxed. 'So what's the product?' asked Draco, trying to sound nonchalant.

'It was Harry's idea,' began George, pulling a pouch from his robes, but Harry stopped him from opening it.

'Er, maybe we should describe it before trotting out the visual aids.'

'And miss out on his reaction?' said George. 'No, this is the best part—trust me.' He pulled a long radish from the pouch, and Harry could see that George had sculpted the end into a rounded bell shape.

Draco's face fell. 'Custom-grown phallic vegetables?' he said disgustedly. 'That's your big idea?'

'No,' said George. 'This is just for demonstration purposes.' He pulled out a measuring tape and handed it to Draco. 'Would you be so kind as to measure both the length and the circumference of the radish?'

Frowning, Draco measured the radish and jotted down the numbers on a spare parchment.

With well-practised showmanship, George dramatically pulled a small envelope from his pouch. Holding it up, he said, 'I suspect you've never seen one of these before, but Harry is well-versed in their use. Lord Black, if you'll do the honours.'

Harry scowled but took the envelope, and Draco's jaw dropped when he saw the contents. 'Is that a condom?' he asked, astonished. 'Oh my god, it increases the size, doesn't it? Won't they notice?'

'It's just within the bounds of plausible deniability,' said George proudly. 'Go on, Harry, put it on ... the radish,' he hastened to add. 'Put it on the radish.'

Harry placed the condom on the tip of the radish and unrolled it. Thank Merlin it's not gloopy, he thought, supposing George would add that to the final product. 'Go ahead and measure it,' he said, handing the latex-covered radish to Draco.

Draco measured it and took down the numbers. 'You've added half an inch around and three-quarters of an inch in length!' he exclaimed. 'Will people really think that's possible without magic?'

'Remember Muggles don't believe in magic, so they won't jump to that conclusion,' said Percy. 'Furthermore, I read a lot of Muggle sales literature for products claiming to address the problem, and technical claptrap is the norm. I've already drafted copy about a patented process that combines latex rubber with an all-natural, hypo-allergenic herbal additive that stimulates blood flow, creating an enhanced romantic experience.'

'So not only will customers believe it,' said George, 'they'll take the credit.'

'Will it feel normal?' asked Draco, squeezing the radish.

'Yes, for both participants,' said George. 'We've been testing a similar product for wizards, only much bigger, and all our volunteers have been delighted.'

'I find that hard to believe,' said Draco, who was pulling at the base of the condom and frowning.

'Muggles are used to condoms,' Harry assured him. 'It's not the same as without, but it's still sex and well worth having.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'I should have known any idea you'd come up with would be sex-related. You really are a maniac, Potter.'

'How was the weather in France last night?' retorted Harry. 'Or didn't you go outside?'

Ignoring Harry, Draco said, 'But will people want to be seen buying a product like this? Buying condoms must be embarrassing enough, but I can't even imagine buying one that's touted for enhancing size.'

'That's the real trick,' replied Percy. 'We won't advertise it that way. It'll be word of mouth.'

Draco sniffed derisively. 'And how to you expect to make that happen? You probably don't know any Muggles.'

'I don't, but I spoke to a colleague who works primarily on maintaining secrecy, and he says the internet is a powerful tool both for combatting rumours and also for spreading them. He told me about a pair of Squibs who started a consultancy specifically devoted to the task, and I made enquiries and learnt they'll take other jobs as well. They're reputedly very flexible about the kinds of clients they'll accept.'

'Give me their names,' said Draco. 'I can find out whether they're trustworthy.' Percy nodded, and Draco asked, 'Have you got a product name yet?'

'No, but that's a low priority,' said Percy. 'The marketing and distribution will be handled by a goblin-controlled company, and they have the means of production as well.'

'Then why do they even need us?' scoffed Draco. 'Can't they just take the idea and run?'

'Yes, but they won't, because of Harry,' said George triumphantly. 'My brother Bill works at Gringotts and says rumours are rampant that Harry is going to push for new treaties. So they'll bend over backwards to keep him happy.'

'Are you serious?' exclaimed Harry. 'I haven't even announced that.'

'They all know from your meeting with Ragnok in August, when you snubbed the Ministry,' replied George.

'It's true,' said Percy. 'Everyone knows how pro-goblin you are, and that you're willing to advocate for them.'

'Unbelievable,' said Harry, shaking his head slowly. 'Three months ago I wasn't even allowed inside Gringotts.'

'And now they're your biggest fans,' said Draco with grudging admiration. 'At this rate, I'm not sure you even need Slytherin.'

Kreacher had served lunch by this point, and everyone had begun eating. 'Radish, anyone?' said George, holding it up.

Draco turned to Percy. 'Do you have numbers?'

'Yes, although they're mostly guesses until we get more solid data from the goblins.'

'Highly educated guesses,' said George. 'Percy got his hands on the numbers for two other condom manufacturers.'

'Do I even want to know how you managed that?' asked Harry uncertainly.

'I'm delighted to hear it,' said Draco. 'I knew George was ambitious, and you seem to be as well. I was worried your father might have influenced you too much.'

'This is our father's influence,' said George dryly. 'Just not the way he intended.'

'Yes, I suppose my father never intended for me to partner with Harry Potter and two Weasleys. But we know how well their generation turned out.' Draco and Percy arranged to meet in private to discuss their plans for the Ministry, and the group agreed to bring a proposal to Gringotts the following week.

After lunch, Harry returned to Quidditch practice. 'How was lunch?' he asked Gemma.

'All right. But there was this awful part at the end where the waitress gave us a slip of paper and demanded money in return. I nearly threw up.'

'I'm so sorry,' he said with mock sincerity. 'And you'll have to pay for lunch tomorrow as well, when we go to my cousin's sandwich shop.'

'Why won't it be free?' she asked petulantly. 'Aren't we doing them a favour just by turning up?'

'We are, but my goal is to increase their profits—not leech off them.'

'I can't believe how hypocritical you are, when you personally leech off two families.'

'No I don't,' said Harry. 'I'll admit the free house is nice, and same with the elf, but otherwise I live off my salary, and have done since the war ended.'

'Your massive salary,' she scoffed. 'Prince Charles could live off that.'

'Oi! We're not even over the pitch right now!'

'Who ever said I can't taunt you off the pitch?'

'No one, I guess.' He checked his battered pocket watch to see when practice would start.

'That's surprisingly dingy,' said Gemma. 'Surely your jeweller could supply something better.'

'I don't have a jeweller! And what's with all the Harry Toffer abuse? You were at it this morning as well.'

'No more than usual,' she replied, but he just looked at her. 'All right, maybe a little. Lara just showed me my sales figures from last weekend.'

'Weren't they good?' asked Harry, surprised. Gemma had new merchandise, including a figurine and several photos featuring her and Harry.

'They were good,' she admitted. 'Really good.'

'Congratulations! But why are you upset?'

'In one weekend I earned nearly as much as I used to make in a fortnight of waitressing. And that was at a posh restaurant!'

Harry wasn't sure how to reply, so he waited for her to continue. But she didn't, and he finally said, 'So?'

'So?! You really are clueless, Toffer!'

What did I do wrong? he wondered. 'I'm sorry, I don't see the problem.'

'The problem, Toffer, is that tomorrow I'll receive the biggest pay cheque of my life, except for when I caught the Snitch, and it probably isn't a tenth of what yours is!'

Harry's face fell, and he felt a wave of the shame he used to feel around Ron. 'I'm sorry, Gemma. I wish the system were more fair.'

'I'm not jealous,' she snapped, but then Tuttle appeared. 'Forget I said anything,' grumbled Gemma.

Tuttle's arrival ended the conversation, and Owen soon set them to practice. Harry worked with Bruce on flying, and Gemma honed her spotting with Owen.

'We finally heard from Spudmore over lunch,' said Bruce.

'Are you serious? What did he say?'

'He says he'll talk. But you shouldn't expect to use the broom in a match anytime soon.'

Harry sighed. 'Does that mean he used illegal charms?'

'I doubt it,' replied Bruce. 'But it probably means he used Light magic.'

'You'd think he'd be more cheerful,' muttered Harry. 'When will we talk?'

'Next Tuesday afternoon. He'll come here to observe.'

'I should feel excited to meet another Light wizard, assuming that's what he is, but I mostly feel dread. Although it'll be good to get some answers.'

Bruce sent Harry through an obstacle course that afternoon and taught him increasingly subtle tweaks to improve his flying. 'You still won't beat Gemma, but you'll be faster than Aidan Kiely,' he said, referring to Harry's next opponent. 'Honestly, you'll beat anyone who's not on a Firebolt Ultra, which is nearly every starter in the league.'

'Nearly?'

'Routledge switched to the Firebolt after Hobbs beat him.'

'Bugger—when do I play him next?'

'November the twentieth. Last game of the season.'

'I suppose it doesn't matter whether we win,' said Harry. 'It's not as if we'll get the cup.'

'No, but Puddlemere will be in contention. That match could decide it.'

Harry frowned. 'So if I win, the cup will go to either Montrose or the Harpies. But if I lose, we go out on a sour note.'

'No one will mind. And at this rate you'll give the fans a winning season.'

'I guess, but it's still a lousy way to end it.'

Harry continued brooding about his conversation with Gemma. He was used to her insulting him, but it was unlike her not to speak her mind. I can't help that my merchandise is more popular, he thought glumly. He'd hoped that appearing in new photos with his teammates would even things out, but apparently not.

During the practice match Tuttle switched up the Beaters, which meant Gary and Suresh took aim at Harry whenever he and Gemma were apart. Perhaps they're trying to bring us together, so she can tell me what's wrong, he mused.

Unfortunately, she rebuffed his attempts to fly near her. 'Stop tracking me, Toffer. I know it's hard, but you need to learn to spot the Snitch on your own.'

'I wanted a break from the Bludgers,' he replied. 'And also to get you to tell me what I did wrong.'

'It's not always about you, believe it or not,' she snapped, before flying off.

He took the hint and flew on his own, and the opposing Beaters never let up. Fortunately, he did an exceptional job avoiding Bludgers. Tuttle might actually praise me, he thought after a remarkably deft evasive manoeuvre. And as much as he longed to fly on the Firebolt Ultra, he had to admire the Silver Arrow's handling.

Gemma shot into a steep dive, which Harry instantly recognised as a feint. So instead of following her, he impulsively launched towards the opposing Chasers, who were threatening to score. But he lost sight of his own Beaters, who were taking aim at the Chasers, and he realised too late that he'd flown into a Bludger's path. Oh shit! he thought, and his perceptions slowed down. There was no time to swerve, but only to watch his impending doom.

And then, miraculously, he was safe. The Bludger scooted around him, seemingly of its own accord, and Tuttle blew her whistle. 'What the hell just happened?' she barked.

Harry and the other players landed, and Owen ran to meet them. 'Hang on, I need to review it,' he said, adjusting the Omniocular controls.

'Did that Bludger just dodge you?' asked Titus incredulously.

'I think so,' said Harry, who was equally puzzled.

'Sweet Merlin!' exclaimed Owen, looking through the Omnioculars. 'It definitely swerved.'

Tuttle furrowed her brow. 'Potter, you've been fucking brilliant at dodging Bludgers all afternoon, but now I'm starting to wonder. Is this some new Light magic trick?'

'I'm not glowing,' began Harry, examining his arm, but then realisation dawned. 'Bloody hell!' he cried. 'Kreacher!'

Crack! 'Yes, Master!'

'Your protection spell this afternoon! It protects me from Bludgers!'

'Yes, Master!' said the elf proudly. 'Kreacher loves Master and wants to keep him safe.'

Harry knelt before the house-elf. 'I love you too,' he said sincerely. 'But you need to remove that protection. I can't play league Quidditch if I repel Bludgers.'

Kreacher's ears drooped. 'But Master might get hurt.'

'I know, but I love playing Quidditch, and it's a risk I'm willing to take. Besides, you took such good care of me when I was injured.'

'That is true,' said Kreacher. 'Should Kreacher make the Bludgers find you instead?'

'No!' blurted Harry, along with everyone present. 'Dobby did that once before, and I didn't appreciate it. But could you just return things to normal?'

'What about the other protections?' asked Kreacher.

'What are they exactly?' asked Harry nervously.

'No one can poke Master in the eyes,' he began. 'No one can punch Master, or bite him ...'

'He'll want the biting,' interjected Darren. When everyone looked at him, he said, 'Maryann's a biter, and Harry had no complaints.'

Harry didn't reply, but he wordlessly communicated with Kreacher. Darren's right, he admitted silently. You should allow biting. 'Er, what else?' he asked aloud. 'Any curse protections? And what about potions?'

'No,' said Kreacher sadly. 'Kreacher is unable to offer curse or potion protections. But Master is safe from swords, lances, and javelins.'

'What about throwing stars?' asked Gary. 'And arrows?'

'Yes,' replied Kreacher. 'Master is impervious to all projectiles.'

'Bullets?' asked Ryan, and Kreacher nodded eagerly.

'Can you allow Bludgers, but keep the other protections in place?' asked Harry. He silently added, Except for biting. Oh, and scratching, tugging, and mild swatting.

'Yes, Master,' replied Kreacher, with a knowing gleam in his eyes. 'Would Master be so kind as to glow?'

Harry had no trouble summoning his Light magic, and Kreacher's ear hair began glowing as well. When he placed a hand on Harry's arm, the shield was slightly more purple than blue. 'Can you protect my friends as well?' Harry asked hopefully.

'No, Master. It requires the silent bond.'

'Lordly privilege strikes again,' muttered Suresh. 'Can we finish playing now?'

'Snitches!' cried Owen. 'You can't protect Harry from Snitches!'

A discussion with Kreacher and a brief test confirmed that Harry did not, in fact, repel Snitches. Further adjustments were made to allow Quaffles, wands, and thrown items of clothing.

'Are you sure about that last one?' asked Renée. 'Harry might become the next Tom Jones, with women always throwing their knickers at him.'

'Enough chatter!' barked Tuttle. 'Back in the air!'

To Harry's surprise, Gemma approached him when he began circling. 'It figures you'd have some new weird advantage.'

She's still upset, he thought with dismay, but he hoped she might provide answers. 'Will you please tell me what I've done wrong?'

'Not a thing, Toffer. I'm just waiting for Merlin himself to descend from Mount Privilege and lead you to your diamond-studded castle.'

'Where the immortal warlocks live?'

'Something like that,' she grumbled. 'I'm sorry ... it's not your fault. It's just the contrast is occasionally overwhelming.'

He began to understand. 'Because I earn so much?'

'Among other things, yeah.'

'Such as?' he asked.

'Such as everything. You used to be relatable somehow, back when you were being hunted by the Ministry. But now you're about as relatable as ... I dunno, Princess Diana.'

'Er, she's dead.'

'I know that,' she snapped. 'But remember how everyone called her the People's Princess?'

'Not really. I was in hiding when she died.'

'Well they did, and they talked about how down to earth she was, and everyone's mate and all the rest. But the fact is she was the daughter of an earl and gorgeous and probably the poshest person in England, except maybe the Queen. Although if you think about it, Diana was loads more glamorous than the Queen.'

'So I'm more glamorous than the Queen?' he asked sceptically.

'No, but you're about as different to the rest of us as she is.'

Harry's heart sank. 'How exactly? You and I are the same age, we're both Seekers, and we spend our days almost identically. Admittedly my life outside practice is different, but it's not like I'm off christening ships or something.'

'True, but that's only because wizards don't have ships.' She paused and said, 'I'm sorry, I probably sound daft going on like this. It just came as a shock to see my huge earnings statement and know still it's peanuts compared to yours. Which made me realise I was fooling myself when I thought we were equals somehow.'

'I hope we're equals,' he said sincerely. 'I know there's the Lord Black bollocks and the Wizengamot, and the underwear deal ...'

'And Pratt's,' she added. 'And the radio, and the Prophet, and Light magic–'

'You can develop Light magic,' argued Harry. Assuming you don't have Horcruxes stashed all over England, he thought idly.

'Right. I'll just pencil that in after tea on Sunday with Lydia Travers.'

Harry refreshed his intention to notice when the Snitch appeared. 'I'm not even seeing Lydia anymore.'

'No, but that was basically your decision. And yes, I know she dumped you because of the prostitute, but you could still owl any witch or wizard in England and they'd drop everything for an audience. Whereas I'm still a nobody.'

'No you're not! You caught the Snitch in your first match! You already have a figurine, even though you're a reserve, and people are buying it.'

A flash of gold caught his eye, but he didn't fly towards it. If I zoom for it, he thought, she'll beat me and feel better. But he never attempted straight chases anymore for that exact reason, and she'd know he'd let her win.

'People are buying it,' she said, with a hint of pride. 'Twenty-one people, in fact.'

'They should make flying figurines,' he mused, keeping an eye on the Snitch. 'I wonder why they don't.'

'Liability. At least that's what Susanna told me. Apparently the Seekers flew around and grabbed gold earrings and such. And Beater figurines used to whack things at people.'

'But what about Keepers?' asked Harry, drifting away from her. 'They mostly just hover in place.'

'That wouldn't be very interesting,' she said, glancing at Janet, and Harry was off. His head start was sufficient, and even without the Firebolt he beat Gemma to the Snitch.

'Damn you!' she cried, as Tuttle blew her whistle. 'Were you distracting me again?'

'I was. But not very long—I spotted it just before you said how many figurines you'd sold.'

'One of these days I'll stop falling for that,' she said, scowling.

'Yes, and then some other team will steal you away, and you'll be the league's best Seeker.'

She burst out laughing. 'Did you just refer to yourself as the league's best Seeker?'

'Oh bugger, I did,' he said, mortified. 'I blame Draco Malfoy, who used the term sarcastically at lunch.'

'Promise me you'll describe yourself that way on the radio next week.'

'I should ask Hermione if a blood oath could prevent me from saying it again,' he grumbled. 'But seriously, do you really think you're a nobody? Because I don't.'

She sighed heavily. 'It's just a habit, I guess. But I'm friends with you, right? That makes me someone.'

'You're more than that. And besides, you'll be that saucy little witch wearing a tiara at the party I'm never going to throw.'

'They removed the curse?' she asked excitedly. 'And I can really wear it?'

'Yes, at the party I'm never going to throw.'

'But now you have to throw it!' she insisted. 'To make up for the fact that you earn so much more than I do! And that's not even counting the underwear profits.'

Or the condom profits, he added inwardly. 'I don't know. We'll talk.'

Harry returned home to find a letter from Dominic Runnion, stating that they'd sent his revised contract to Gringotts for review. 'Our plan is to launch the brand simultaneously in Japan and North America, at select locations only. This will not only simplify distribution and allow us to launch more quickly, but also enhance the brand's air of exclusivity. Our sales partners in both regions were delighted to learn about your participation, and there may be further business opportunities as well.'

After sending one of the jackdaws to Gringotts with a letter requesting a meeting, Harry went upstairs to change for his date with Alex. They hadn't yet decided whether to eat in or out, but he was hoping for the latter. She'd been widely praised for her grace and unconventional beauty, and an enterprising journalist had discovered her academic achievements in America and reported how clever she was. It's boosting her self-confidence, he thought, and she's doing wonders for my reputation.

Harry had optimistically reserved a table at a wizarding gastropub in York, and he put on robes he hadn't yet worn in public. But when Alex arrived, she was wearing only jeans and a jumper. 'Look at you!' she exclaimed after they kissed. 'Are you hoping to be photographed again?'

'Photographed with you,' he said admiringly. 'And I love what they're printing about you.'

'Yes, but there's one small problem,' she said, pulling an envelope from her handbag. She opened it and handed him a newspaper article.

'Is this the Chicago Beacon?' he asked, frowning.

'It is. And that's Rocky.' There were two photographs—the first was much larger and showed Alex with Harry at the nightclub, and in the second, which was inset, she was with a tall young wizard at what looked like a school dance. The headline was, 'Chicago Witch Ensnares Harry Potter,' with the sub-headline, 'But does he know about her fiancé back home?'

'I thought you said your engagement wasn't public?'

'It wasn't, but somehow it's come out.'

'Did Rocky send you this?'

'He did. And he's coming to visit tomorrow.'

'Just for one day?' asked Harry hopefully.

'No, through Sunday.'

Harry frowned. 'I assume he doesn't want to attend the match.'

'Actually he does. He's an Anglophile, after all, and what could be more English than Quidditch?'

'Will he use Nancy's ticket?' he asked, referring to Alex's tutor, whom he'd invited to Saturday's match.

'Is that all right?'

'As long as he doesn't hold up a banner that says, "Americans Against Harry Potter."'

'No. The last thing he'd want is to attract attention that way.'

'Then what does he want? Is he coming to England because of the article?'

'Not entirely. But it says how smitten you are, and how you wouldn't even look at another witch at the nightclub last week.'

'At least it's accurate,' he said, giving her the Look. But she scowled, and he asked, 'Is he worried I won't let you go?'

'Maybe a little. The article describes how single-minded you were in the fight against Voldemort, and that your Light magic and Auror training make you a powerful foe.'

Harry looked more closely at the clipping. 'And how does it describe you?'

She grimaced. 'They use the word, "vixen."'

He couldn't help smirking. 'At least Jodi and Heidi will find out.'

'That's true, and it's definitely a silver lining.'

Examining the photograph of Alex and Rocky, he asked, 'When was that taken?'

'Nearly three years ago, at our Solstice Ball.'

'And you've been together that long?'

She nodded. 'Our third anniversary was on Monday.'

At least she wasn't with me, he thought guiltily. 'I'm sorry,' he said. 'You only wanted a pocket romance, but thanks to me it's an international scandal.'

'You can't help being famous.'

'Not initially, but no one forced me to join the Cannons or model underwear.'

Alex's eyes lit up. 'Did you sign the contract?'

'Tomorrow, most likely. And they'll launch in America the same time as in Japan.'

'Maybe you can come to Chicago to promote it,' she said eagerly. 'You can reject Jodi and Heidi then.'

'Does that mean I'm not invited to the wedding?'

Grimacing, she said, 'I'm afraid so.'

'Tonight is our last date, isn't it?' sighed Harry.

Alex nodded, and Harry's heart sank. 'But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy it,' she said.

She agreed to go the gastropub, on the condition that he change into his Breton shirt and wear the scarf he'd bought with it. 'It's not a foulard,' she said, 'but it's still a scarf, which meets the requirement.'

'I've been waiting for the weather to get cold enough,' he said. 'Do you reckon Rocky and I can find common ground talking about clothes?'

'It's not out of the question. And you might be forgiven entirely if you get him a discount from your tailor.'

Before they left, he sent Rita a letter asking that the Prophet not vilify Alex when it came out she had a fiancé. 'Alex told me about him at the beginning of our first date, and there's been no deception on any side. And as much as I fancy her, I have no intention of stealing her away from him, and I wish them all the best in their life together.' He added that he wanted to announce his name change on Tuesday and proposed they meet for an interview.

'That should take care of the Prophet,' he said after sending away the other jackdaw, 'and hopefully the other publications will follow suit.'

Dinner was bittersweet, since he knew it was likely to be their last date. He asked her more about Rocky, in anticipation of their meeting, and it was clear she was deeply in love.

'He's unbelievably clever,' she said. 'He works at a secret wizarding research lab at the University of Chicago, and the work they're doing is absolutely brilliant. It's in conjunction with several Squibs who received Muggle scientific training, which means they're ideally placed to apply wizarding solutions to larger problems in the world.'

'Really? Like what?'

'Environmental problems, for example. Muggles are dependent on fossil fuels, but they're hugely polluting and are causing potentially catastrophic harm to the planet. As wizards we tend to think we can solve everything, but it's not actually that easy in this case. We're shockingly dependent on our own magic, which is limited, and the most powerful goblin magic depends on gold, which is a comparatively rare element.'

'A Philosopher's Stone would solve that,' remarked Harry.

'Yes and no. Unlimited gold would allow the goblins to work on a larger scale, but we're much better off if we can find an element that's more abundant and widely distributed. And Rocky's team is looking for ways not only to unleash power but also disguise the magical component. They're part of an international consortium, and their colleagues in other countries are inclined to chuck secrecy if things really get dire. But the Americans will never agree to it.'

'Does your research tie into this?'

'It does, and that book you lent me is incredibly useful. Speaking of which ...' She trailed off and looked down.

'Did you spill something on it?' he asked slyly.

'No, of course not,' she said, laughing. 'But it's accelerated my research and given me a clear direction. The reason I accompanied Nancy to Britain was to cast a wide net, but now that I've caught something, I'll probably make more progress at home.'

Harry took a deep breath. 'Will you go back with him on Sunday?'

'No, not that soon. But probably by the end of the month.'

In a week, thought Harry sadly. 'Will you also work at the University of Chicago?'

'Yes. It's arguably the best place in the world for this kind of research, and I can just Apparate there from home.'

'Or ride in Rocky's pickup truck.'

She chuckled. 'Is it wrong that I'm looking forward to introducing you? You actually have a lot in common, besides the obvious.'

Did he defeat a Dark Lord? thought Harry's wounded ego. Or slay a Basilisk, or turn the Cannons around? Was he Master of Death? Or just some fop trying to solve the energy crisis?

'I'm flattered you want to introduce us,' he said sincerely. 'At the very least, it means you trust me not to annihilate him with my Auror training and Light magic.' And he won't be able to punch me, thought Harry.

'No, you're both far too gentlemanly for that. But I encouraged him to bring his best clothes, and I anticipate an epic Battle of the Dandies.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'Are you proposing we get together on Saturday night? Because he'll probably feel overdressed wearing formal robes to a Quidditch match.'

'Would you mind going out somewhere? Coming to your house might be a bit much for him.'

'Yes, of course. And I won't even wear my Robert de Montesquiou robes, in case he wants to buy his own for the wedding.'

They ate in silence, and Harry felt sadness wash over him. Where will I ever find someone like her? he thought glumly, and his Light magic rose to soothe him. He finished eating first and watched as she ate, her face bathed in his soft glow.

When she set down her fork, he said, 'You know you're extraordinary, right?'

'I'm extraordinarily lucky,' she said. 'Not only to have met the love of my life, but to have a pocket romance with you. You're incredibly romantic—it's intoxicating, really. If you could bottle and mass-produce the Look, you wouldn't need a Philosopher's Stone.'

'Typical American, always on about mass production,' he joked. 'The Look is bespoke.'

'Not that photograph from your Light magic article. If you do that in your adverts, even ninety-year-old witches will start wearing men's underwear.'

His glow dimmed. 'That wasn't a mental image I wanted.'

She laughed and said, 'Poor Harry! I'll have to make it up to you ... should we eat dessert at your house?'

He agreed enthusiastically and paid the bill, in spite of her protests. They were photographed before leaving, and Harry asked the photographer to send him a copy in care of the Cannons. 'I want something to remember her by, because she's absolutely brilliant,' he explained.

'You're brilliant too,' she said when they got home. 'And not just the glowing.'

'At least I have the good sense to fall in love with clever witches. I think that's my type.'

She frowned. 'Have you really fallen in love with me?' He answered by kissing her, which she allowed for a minute, but then she pulled away. 'You didn't answer my question. Are you in love with me?'

'No,' said Harry. 'At least I don't think I am. But I would be if you'd let me.'

'I could have loved you too,' she admitted. 'I don't know if we'd have worked in the long run, but I could have fallen deeply and dizzyingly in love with you.'

They eventually went upstairs and didn't speak for a long while. Later, as they ate the pudding provided by Kreacher, he asked, 'Why wouldn't we have worked in the long run? I know it's an annoying question, but I don't want to keep chasing women away.'

'It's a fair question, and I'll try to answer it.' She took a deep breath. 'You're very young,' she began.

'You're only a year older than I am,' he argued, but she shushed him.

'It's not just your age. And you're not immature exactly—you're very grown up in certain ways, and not just in the bedroom. But there's a little boy in the mix, and he's terribly hungry. He wants love, and comfort, and attention ...'

'So it's dead-mum trauma,' he said dejectedly. 'And attention-seeking.'

'There's no shame in it. It's beautiful that you still want to connect with people, after everything you've been through. Someone else with your history might just wall himself off.'

'Like Voldemort,' said Harry, mostly to himself. 'His childhood was as bad as mine, only he didn't have Light magic protecting him. And all he wanted was power and adulation.'

'Exactly, and you're not like that at all. You need a lot, but you give even more. Ginny was right that you'd be perfect for a certain kind of witch.' She paused and added, 'But you'll do better if you learn to address that need on your own, at least in part.'

'How do I do that? I can't exactly be my own mum.'

'No, but what does a mum provide? Safety, and love, and nourishment.'

'I've got nourishment covered,' he said, indicating their empty plates. 'But what about safety and love?'

The answer came to him in a tremendous wave. 'Light magic,' he exhaled, closing his eyes, and he knew he was glowing brightly. 'Oh my god,' he continued. 'I have it right here. It just needs directing.' His chest and torso filled with soft energy, which flowed gently throughout his body.

Alex lovingly ran her hands all over him, almost but not entirely as a mother might do. 'You're extraordinary,' she said. 'I'm in awe, you know.'

He didn't reply, allowing the pleasure of her touch to mingle with his Light magic. Her hands seemed to guide it to the places that needed it most, into the hollows occupied by a scared and lonely little boy. It flowed towards the baby wailing alone in a ruined house, with his mother's last cries still ringing in his ears. It flowed towards the sterile cot he'd occupied on Privet Drive until he was big enough for the cupboard, and then into the cupboard itself.

Light magic flowed towards the eleven-year-old boy who awoke to discover he'd killed his professor. He'd suppressed his horror at the time, thanks to Dumbledore's claim that Voldemort had killed Quirrell, but Harry hadn't forgotten their mortal battle and Quirrell's dying screams.

Light magic found the scared fourteen-year-old walking alone to join the other Triwizard champions after the goblet had produced his name. It found the boy who returned to Hogwarts with Cedric Diggory's dead body after witnessing Voldemort's rebirth. And it embraced the broken young man who saw his godfather fall dead through a fluttering black curtain.

Harry allowed Alex to comfort him without feeling the urge to engage sexually. 'This is better than Sorceress,' he recalled as Light magic fulfilled his needs. He must have fallen asleep, because when he awoke the tray was gone and Alex lay sleeping next to him. He rose from bed to brush his teeth, thinking automatically of Hermione, and joined Alex under the covers.

Overcome with affection, he nuzzled close and put an arm around her. But instead of longing for a world without Rocky—as he might have done previously—he felt only contentment as he drifted to sleep.