Author's note:

I've never been happy with the name I gave Owen's wife. It started as Joanna and later morphed into Joanne, and it was never a tribute to the Author Who Much Not Be Named. Anyway, Owen's wife is hereby renamed Jill, and I'll try to update the old chapters as well (although FFN's interface is impressively clunky).

And yes, I know Harry's going through a challenging phase right now, but he's making real inner progress, which isn't always fun. And trust me, there's light at the end of the tunnel, and lots of good things lie ahead.

-––—––—––-

When Harry arrived at practice on Friday, he glanced at the sign above Lara's desk. It featured the cover photo from Sorceress magazine, which depicted a Harry look-alike snogging an unseen witch, and a charmed countdown timer which said: '9 days, 10 hours, 34 minutes, 31 seconds.'

'You're into the single digits,' said Lara encouragingly.

'Yes, but it's still more than a week. And I feel pathetic. Why did I announce it to everyone?'

'You wanted accountability. And you've kept your vow, so I assume it's helping.'

'I couldn't even say. I was in Diagon Alley after practice yesterday, and a lot of people cheered me on. But two separate witches passed me their Floo address, and one included a nude photo. And they both emphasised they can keep a secret.'

'That doesn't sound helpful.'

'It really isn't. And then there are the bookmakers. Not only are people betting I won't make it, but Mrs Thwip says people are offering me bribes to break my vow at a specific time, and then announce it.'

'Have they suggested who you should break it with?'

'Yes. And they included photographs.'

'I'm sorry, Harry. You're doing this for the best possible reasons, and people are trying to trip you up. But is the nausea improving at all?'

'A little. It's intermittent, and it doesn't bother me while flying anymore. But I tried watching a film at Gemma's last night, and I had to stop and go home. The movement on the screen was making me sick.'

'And you've never experienced this before?'

Harry's visions from Voldemort had occasionally made him sick, but he knew this was different. 'No. It started this week. But I asked my teacher, and she says it's actually promising, since it means we've found an imbalance.'

'Can you at least take an Anti-Nausea Draught?'

'Yeah, if it becomes unbearable. But she recommends I use Light magic to address it, so that's what I'm working on.'

He went to his locker to drop off his change of clothes, knowing he hadn't told Lara everything. She doesn't need to hear about my nightmares, he thought. Banthora was proving invaluable, waking him when he thrashed and moaned, and calming his nerves with stories about the olden days. He was often reluctant to fall back asleep, since his dreams were so unsettling, but he found it restful just to listen to her.

It wasn't just Voldemort dreams anymore. He was having all sorts of anxiety dreams, involving people he'd scarcely thought about in years, like his old teachers and classmates from primary school. He dreamt about weeding Aunt Petunia's garden, only new weeds were appearing faster than he could pull them, and time was running out. Another dream involved Bludgers that followed him everywhere, and not only did he have to dodge them but also keep them secret. And every time he awoke, he ran his hand along the bed in a fruitless search for human contact.

I'm a bloody headcase, he thought for the hundredth time that week. Is everyone like this, or am I uniquely fucked up thanks to Voldemort?

He found Gemma when he arrived at the pitch. 'Can you give me the lecture again about how everyone is fucked up and it's not just me?'

'No. I've been lying this whole time. It really is just you, and we've all been having a laugh.'

For a moment he believed her, and his heart sank. But then Gemma turned red and said, 'Sorry, I'm just kidding! Clearly I'm fucked up, for playing mind games with the wizard I practically owe my life to.'

'You'd have gone to Australia. I'm sure you'd be fine.'

'Yeah, but I might never wear a formerly-cursed tiara to a top-secret drag party. That would have been tragic.'

'But only fucked-up people throw top-secret drag parties, right? Isn't that why they're not more common?'

'How would you know, if they're top secret? They might happen all the time, and you've just never heard about them.'

'You're not making me feel better,' he said. 'Seriously, cheer me up.'

'Er, let's see ... how about the part where you're the most envied wizard in Britain?'

'No, that just makes me feel like an ingrate. And paranoid—everyone will probably start hating me any day now. It's happened before.'

They were interrupted by Tuttle's order to start running, and Gemma trotted alongside Harry. 'Not everyone hated you,' she said. 'And you got the last laugh.'

'Yeah, me and all my dead mates. God, I wish you could have met them. You and Tonks would have got on brilliantly. And Sirius ... he'd have loved you. And if you think George and Lee are funny, you should have met Fred.' Harry scowled as he ran, and after a silence he said, 'Bloody Voldemort—I'm glad I killed him.'

Gemma looked at him. 'I thought your verb of choice was "defeated."'

'It is, but who am I kidding? I killed the fucker, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat.'

He sprinted ahead, not wanting to express any more dark thoughts. I should get together with Malfoy, he thought. We can get plastered and complain about Voldemort, Dumbledore, and everyone else who fucked us up.

Running and calisthenics helped him focus, and he was particularly driven during the flying drills. But he resisted his teammates' attempts at banter, and Owen pulled him aside when they were dismissed.

'Harry, can we talk? Maybe over lunch?'

'Er, if you like,' said Harry, still breathing hard from practice. 'My house?'

Owen nodded, and Harry jogged to the building, still avoiding his teammates. He knew Owen was worried about him, and he couldn't decide whether to brush him off or open up. But the shower eased his tension, and by the time he and Owen got to Grimmauld Place he felt ready to talk.

'Did Gemma say something?' asked Harry when they were seated at the kitchen table.

'Yes, but she didn't need to. You don't hide your moods very well.'

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. 'This is harder than I expected. And I don't know why, because it hasn't even been that long.'

Owen chuckled. 'No, it really hasn't been.'

'What's wrong with me?' asked Harry. 'I wasn't like this before.'

'All your walls were knocked down, remember?'

'But why should that make a difference? I'm mostly glad they're gone.'

'Intellectually, perhaps. But they were serving a purpose, and you're still adjusting to life without them.'

'Is that why I feel seasick half the time? I probably shouldn't tell you this, but it's getting worse.'

'Why shouldn't you tell me?'

'Because I'm afraid you'll start Gemma tomorrow. You're considering it, aren't you?'

'We've discussed it.'

'And?'

'Tuttle thinks you should play.'

'What do you think?'

'I'm not sure yet. On the one hand, your flying has been first rate, and you've mostly beaten Gemma this week. But you're tightly wound, and I don't want you to snap.'

'I don't see myself punching Selden Puttick,' said Harry. 'And it's a home match, so the banners won't be too bad.'

'No, but you're under a lot of pressure.' Frowning, he asked, 'How are you sleeping?'

'Poorly. More nightmares than usual. And I can't rely on Light magic the way I used to. Sometimes it helps, but other times it's insufficient.'

'And what does Davina say?'

'To do what makes me happy, and to ask for help.'

'Are you doing that?'

'I love flying,' said Harry. 'So that definitely helps. I no longer feel nausea in the air—that was only when I pushed things too far on the Firebolt. And I had a good time with Gemma last night, though it was disappointing not to be able to watch the film.'

'It seems like you and Gemma are becoming good friends.'

'I think so. By-product of spending hours together every day. And I like her—she's a lot of fun.'

'It's been good for her,' said Owen. 'She feels much more at home in wizarding society, and I think she'll be less vulnerable to taunting.'

'Do you want to put her in tomorrow?' asked Harry uneasily.

'I didn't say that. What else are you doing that's fun?'

'Reading, when I have the time. I finally finished Great Expectations, which I started more than a month ago. But it was hard to make progress with so many other commitments.'

'Yes, I wondered about that,' said Owen. 'You have far more demands on your time than most other Seekers, except the ones with children. I know you were at Gringotts twice this week—is everything all right?'

Harry nodded. 'It is, thanks. The first meeting was to help my cousin with a minor business matter,' he said, referring to the loan to Elliott Black. 'That one was fairly straightforward. The other is more complicated, and ongoing, but we got off on the right foot.' Harry didn't want to reveal anything else about the condom scheme.

'Can you take Sunday off at least?'

'Er, no,' said Harry. 'I haven't told anyone about this, because it's overwhelming, but I have a casting session for the underwear endorsement.' He told him the secondary contract Runnion had arranged.

Owen started laughing. 'Yet another Bludger!' he said. 'You really don't do anything by halves.'

'I know. And what's worse is I found out Sophie will be there. She's the witch I met in Paris, when my Light magic started.'

'Did she contact you?'

'No, I heard from our friend Laetitia, who will also be there. Apparently Sophie heard my broadcast on Tuesday, so she didn't owl me to say she was coming. But otherwise she would have done.'

'As I recall, you really liked her,' said Owen.

'I did. If she's cast, maybe we can get together after the photo session, which is the day my vow ends. But it's painful knowing she'll be in London and I can't be with her.'

Kreacher served lunch, and Owen looked thoughtful as they ate. 'It's not really about the sex, is it? It's about connection.'

'It's both,' said Harry. 'I get connection from other people, like my friends and the other Cannons. Gemma in particular. And Banthora Black has been a lifesaver, if you can believe it. But there's something about intimacy that surpasses all that. Being responsible for someone's pleasure ... seeing her eyes dilate and her lips get redder. And then feeling her contract around me.' He took a deep breath and said, 'When she melts, I melt too. And no matter who it is I fall in love, at least in that moment. It's not just a sense of connection. It's more like ... wholeness.'

He looked down at his plate. 'I'm sorry, this is weird lunch conversation.'

'No, I get it. And you're making me wonder what Jill is up to right now,' said Owen, with a half-smile. 'But I'm glad you told me that, because I have an idea about what might help.'

'Oh?'

'Can you send that feeling out? That sense of wholeness.'

'Send it out?'

'Yes. You close your eyes and imagine you're sending it straight from your heart to wherever it's needed. It's easiest if you send it on an exhale.'

Harry put down his fork and swallowed. 'I can try,' he said, closing his eyes.

'And one more thing: When you inhale, feel yourself receiving it back. And then send it out again.'

'All right,' said Harry. He allowed his breathing to slow down, and at first his mind was awash with images of women. Ginny, he thought, with a wave of longing. And then she was replaced by his other partners and flashes of their contentment. He remembered Claire in particular, and how the fille de joie had been everything to him in that moment. I even forgot Lydia, he thought sadly.

Oh right, the inhale. He deliberately invited a sense of wholeness, and in an instant he knew he was glowing. His energy was still choppy, and he felt grief in the midst of everything, but contentment as well. I can get through this, he thought.

Eventually he opened his eyes. 'Thank you, Owen. I suspect that's what Davina meant when she told me to ask for help. In fact, I know it is, because she suggested something similar. But you made it more concrete, probably because I told you more specifically what it's like for me with women.'

'Are you saying you haven't discussed the joys of penetration with your Light magic teacher?' asked Owen, chuckling.

'I know, typical Anglo-Saxon prudery. Guilty as charged.'

Harry resumed eating, and he worked up the nerve to ask a question. 'What would you think if I invited Fiona to my drag party?'

Owen frowned. 'What are you hoping will happen?'

'I just want her to have a good time. I can keep my distance, if you still feel strongly about it.'

'I do. But she enjoyed your other parties, and I'm not such an ogre as to keep her away.'

'Do you want to invite more of your classmates, so she'll know more people there? After hosting the entire Quidditch league last month, I'm no longer worried about space.'

'Good question. She's still estranged from most of our mutual friends, so I'm not sure it'll help. But maybe the party will give them something new to talk about.'

'All right. Just give me their names and addresses, and I'll send Kreacher after them with the contract.'

Owen chuckled and said, 'If anyone else your age—or even my age—had a house-elf, three post-birds, and a private secretary, I'd consider it excessive. But you actually manage to keep them busy.'

'I suppose I do. And it's never-ending ... I have meetings next week with some of the other cousins, and I still need to find a Wizengamot proxy. Are you interested?'

'Would I get to wear the hat?'

'No, and your robes would be trimmed differently to indicate your proxy status.'

'As much as I'd like to make history by being the first non-Hogwarts wizard to cast a Wizengamot vote, I'd rather not spend alternate Wednesdays sitting on a stone bench listening to pompous drivel.'

'Believe me, I get it. Although you raise a good point about Hogwarts—I should find someone who doesn't fit the traditional profile. Of course there's no rush, since there aren't any controversial votes coming up. But whenever I go to Pratt's the leaders of the Light faction hassle me about it.'

'Harry, it's fortunate you're good at catching the Snitch, because otherwise you're way too busy to be a professional Seeker. In fact, you may need to reconsider your plans to drive the Knight Bus after you retire.'

'But they'd be crazy not to hire me! Just think of the increased business they'd get from people who want me to sign their Japanese underwear adverts.'

'You are going to really regret that decision when the other Seekers find out.'

'Bollocks, I already regret the decision. The only thing that keeps me going is the knowledge that I'm the only person on earth who can say "Narcissa Malfoy goaded me into appearing in Japanese underwear adverts."'

'You keep saying that, but it's more than just Japan,' said Owen.

'I know, but this sounds so much better.'

When they finished eating, Harry asked, 'Have you made a decision about tomorrow's match?'

Owen nodded. 'Assuming you don't blow up this afternoon, you're in. But try to at least acknowledge your teammates.'

They returned to the training grounds, and Harry was indeed more friendly than he was that morning. 'Did Owen work his magic on you?' asked Janet.

'He did. And sorry I did my best Glare-y Potter imitation earlier.'

'Glare-y Potter-Black,' she retorted. 'You of all people should get it right.'

'Will you hyphenate when the time comes?' asked Harry.

'It's funny you should ask, because I deliberately provoked Ron last night by mentioning it.'

'Janet Lindhurst-Weasley?'

'No, that's too long. I'm leaning towards a portmanteau.'

'What's a portmanteau?'

'It's French for a large suitcase, but it also refers to words made from two other words, like brunch.'

'Breakfast and lunch, got it.' Harry furrowed his brow. 'Lindley?'

'It's either that or Weaselhurst, which I kind of like.'

'How did Ron take it?'

'He was oddly defensive. Did you know he's rather proud of his surname?'

'No, but I'm not surprised. The Weasleys are a very old wizarding family. Same with his mum's family, the Prewetts.'

'I know, but I honestly don't care. The reason I keep him around is because he's more entertaining than any of my previous boyfriends. That and his Order of Merlin.'

'How did he handle the implication you'd marry him?'

'That's the scary bit—he got so upset about Weaselhurst that he forgot to freak out about the marriage part.'

'And that's scary because ...'

'Because now the stakes are higher,' said Janet. 'Up until now, it's just been a weirdly enduring fling. But this pushes us into relationship territory, which might ruin everything.'

'You've come to the right person, since I'm unusually good at ruining relationships. But why do you think it'll ruin things?'

'Have you met Ron Weasley? He's perfectly brilliant when he acts on instinct, but as soon as he gets into his head, he's a walking disaster.'

Well spotted, thought Harry. 'You're not wrong,' he admitted. 'But there are exceptions; he's good at strategic thinking.'

'In relationships?'

'Well, no. But is anyone good at strategic thinking in relationships?'

'I don't know, probably. But do you see the problem?'

Harry did see the problem, but he was hesitant to point it out. 'Er, Janet, right now you seem to be the one who's overthinking things. Maybe you should just relax and be yourself. He really likes you.'

She was silent for a moment. 'I like him,' she said quietly. 'And I don't want to screw it up.'

'Then ask me for advice regularly, and do the opposite to whatever I suggest.'

Frowning, Janet said, 'I'm not sure how to act on that. But thanks for listening.'

The next morning, Harry got Ron's side of the story. 'I think I screwed up with Janet.'

'Oh? How so?'

'She made a joke the other night about combining our surnames, and I got upset she didn't want to become Janet Weasley. Which was completely daft, because obviously she was kidding, but now I've given her the wrong impression.'

'And what impression is that?'

'That I think we're in a serious relationship.'

'Are you?'

'Of course not. I'm only nineteen!'

'But you're a pure-blood. Shouldn't you be married and sprogging by now?'

'Not funny,' said Ron. 'I'm not ready for anything serious.'

'Then just keep up what you're doing. You both seem happy the way things are.'

Ron's shoulders drooped. 'So it's just a fling?'

'What do you want it to be?'

'I don't know. I just like her and want to keep seeing her. But that doesn't make it serious, does it?'

'Why are you asking me? I have a distinctly poor record when it comes to relationships.'

'That's a good point. But doesn't Janet confide in you?'

Harry was reluctant to get in the middle, but he also wanted to help. 'She likes you, same as you like her.'

'She likes me?'

'Of course she likes you! You've been dating for more than two months.'

'I know, I know,' said Ron. 'I'm just paranoid. I've never been dumped before, and I'm afraid that when the time comes it's going to be Janet's idea. Are there any warning signs I should know about?'

Harry scowled. 'Thanks a lot, mate.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just you have more experience on the receiving end than I do, and I thought maybe you've noticed a pattern.'

'The pattern is they're dating me,' said Harry. 'Which I don't think applies.'

'So there weren't any hints?'

'I don't know. There probably were with Ginny, but you'd have to ask her. As for Helena, I get the impression she liked me all right, but she wanted me to grow up first. Otherwise, my advice is to stay away from brothels, and don't fall for someone who's already engaged.'

'I don't anticipate getting invited to join Pratt's anytime soon, although I might be able to afford it if the condom scheme pays off. What was your impression of the meeting? George said it went well.'

'I thought so too. I've worked with Redblade before, and he seemed optimistic that Gringotts would want to partner with us. Although he kept using terms like "mutually beneficial" and "our shared best interests," which made me nervous.'

'Are you afraid the goblins will turn on you if you can't get the laws changed?'

'Among other things. Like, maybe there's a good reason wizards and goblins aren't usually allies. They might eat me alive.'

'That's true,' said Ron. 'But I hear talk around the Ministry, and people are saying that if anyone can pull it off, you can.'

'Have they mentioned a time frame? I'm already over-extended.'

'Years, at least. Maybe decades.'

'Oh right, these are wizards we're talking about,' said Harry, relaxing a little. 'Do they expect me to do anything in the near term?'

'Keep building alliances in the Wizengamot,' said Ron. 'And try not to ruin anyone else's granddaughter.'

'Not for the next eight days, certainly. And probably not after that—I want to clean up my act.'

'Why now? I thought you liked causing scandals.'

'They are fun,' admitted Harry. 'But I've been lucky so far and got away with everything. That can't last, though, particularly with the underwear adverts coming.'

Ron shrugged. 'So people will wank to you. Big deal—you can still sleep around.'

'I don't want to sleep around. Alex kept trying to get me to date other witches, and I wasn't interested. Honestly, I'd like to find a girlfriend, if there's someone who'll put up with me.'

'And Lisa Black's out of the question?'

Harry looked up from the photograph he was signing. 'What makes you mention her?'

'Janet thinks she's interested. We saw George on Thursday, and he said there was definitely a spark. And the way she went on about fitted robes and tight trousers ... you're clearly her type.'

'Maybe, but she said I was far too notorious.'

'Aha,' said Ron. 'So that's why you want to clean up your act. To woo your cousin.'

'Fourth cousins don't count. And Andromeda approves.' Harry started signing photographs again, and he said, 'But even if I don't date Lisa, I don't want to scare witches off. The only people who've openly dated me specifically wanted a manwhore. That's why Lydia chose me, and same with Alex. And then there's Owen.'

'Don't tell me you fancy Owen!'

'No, his friend Fiona.'

'That "fit bird" from your first party?' said Ron, chuckling. 'Weren't you going to owl her?'

'Owen told me in no uncertain terms to stay away. He thinks I'd toy with her, and why wouldn't he? In the three months we've known each other, I've shagged someone new nearly every week.'

'It's a shame he never saw you with Ginny. Even I never worried you were toying with her. Not after the war, anyway.'

Harry sighed. 'Unfortunately my reputation might get worse. There's another endorsement I haven't told you about yet.'

'Worse than Y-fronts?' Harry nodded, and Ron's eyes grew wide. 'Bondage gear?'

'What?' gasped Harry. 'No! Women's underwear.'

'You're going to wear women's underwear?!'

'God no! I'm going to pose with a female model, to promote bras and knickers.'

'No way! That's brilliant! Is it the same company?'

'It's their partner in North America. When they heard I signed with Runnion, they offered to extend the deal.'

'Will you get a cut of sales?'

'Yeah, that's why I'm doing it. I'm a complete sell-out at this point.'

'Fantastic,' said Ron. 'Have you seen the model yet?'

'Er, that's the problem. The casting session is tomorrow.'

'Why's that a problem?' asked Ron, but then he burst out laughing. 'Classic! If anyone ever needed an example of Potter luck, that's it. You get paid a fortune to spend the day with underwear models, only you're in the middle of a celibacy vow.'

'I know. And what's worse is Sophie will be there. She's the witch from France.'

Ron's brows drew together. 'You don't reckon they'll bring in a Veela, do you?'

'Sweet Merlin, that would be a disaster! I can't be around a half-naked Veela right now!'

'Not just that, but a half-naked Veela who's keen to get the biggest modelling job of her career. Because whoever gets cast will be world-famous.'

Harry felt the blood drain from his face. 'Isn't there some potion I could take, to get me through it?'

'That's cheating,' said Ron. 'Isn't your vow about learning alternative coping strategies?'

'In theory, but no one said anything about a highly-motivated, half-naked Veela! Seriously, are there any potions? Maybe Fleur would know.'

'There might be, but do you really want to be neutered during the casting session?'

'No, you're right. The whole point is to test for alchemy.'

'Can you at least do something afterwards to take your mind off things?' asked Ron.

Harry looked at him again. 'What do you suggest? Really, I'm all ears.'

'Let's see. You can't go to the cinema, because of your Light magic. You can't go out, because witches would slip you their addresses. How about Sunday dinner at the Burrow?'

'I don't know—I'll think about it. Should I send Kreacher?'

'Good idea. Mum's dropped hints about wanting to upgrade her wardrobe, only she needs someone strong in Transfiguration, and Dad's more of a Charms man. Percy made the mistake of volunteering, but it ended up requiring more "hands on" than he was comfortable with.'

'That would be a great punishment,' mused Harry. 'And I need one, since Kreacher didn't fall for it when I said it was a punishment to collect signatures for the party contract.'

'Have you invited a lot of people?'

'I'm waiting until a little closer to the party, since it's a long time to ask people to keep a secret. But I had all the Cannons sign it, and their close friends.'

'Who else are you inviting?'

'That's a good question, and harder than you'd think. I want a good turnout, but not so many people that word gets out.'

'It'll get out no matter what,' said Ron. 'This is you we're talking about, and nothing stays secret. The question is who you're willing to let see you in tart armour.'

Harry frowned. 'When you put it that way, maybe more people is better. Because the reality will probably be less scandalous than what people imagine.'

'Good point. Will you invite the Auror trainees? I'm sure they can keep a secret, and you still owe them.'

'You're right, and yes, I'll invite them. Tell them to save the date, and I'll send Kreacher with the contract next week.'

'Do you reckon you'll have a girlfriend by then? If not, you can finally hold court and audition a partner the way they're always accusing you of doing.'

'I am not going to hold court. If people want to talk to me, they can find me on the roof. And I'll just point to my ears and pretend I can't hear them.'

'I like how you didn't deny the bit about auditioning a partner,' said Ron.

'What's the point of having a terrible reputation if I can't pull at my own party? But who am I kidding ... I'll probably have a new girlfriend in–' He checked his pocket watch. 'Eight days, nine hours, and forty-one minutes.'

'That's still more than a week, mate. What are your plans for tonight?'

'Babysitting.'

Ron stared at him. 'Are you shitting me?'

'No. Andromeda is having dinner with Simon, my tutor, and I said I'd watch Teddy.'

'Andromeda's going on a date? With your tutor?'

'A second date, actually. Their first date got cut short when Teddy had an earache and started screaming. Andromeda was out of drops and the apothecary was closed, but at least Simon helped by bouncing him up and down a lot. They didn't get much conversation in, though, so she invited him to dinner tonight, and I offered to get Teddy out of the way.'

'Right, but do you know how to entertain a baby for hours?' asked Ron.

'Not really, but Owen said I could bring him round.'

'A night with a baby could be a real boost for your celibacy vow.'

'I know. Owen said I won't believe how slowly time moves while minding a baby.'

A few hours later, Gemma echoed Ron's scepticism. 'Are you really babysitting tonight?' she asked after they changed into their Cannons robes.

'I am. Do you want to help?'

'Tempting, Toffer, but I told some of the reserves I'd go out with them.'

'Fine, but if you get bored, come find me at Owen's house.'

'Actually, Gemma, you might want to keep your distance,' said Owen. 'It'll be sprog central: My two girls, Harry's godson, and my friend Fiona's little boy.'

'Oh?' said Harry.

'Yes, she's going out, and Jill said we'd watch him.'

'On a date?' asked Harry automatically. 'Sorry, that's none of my business.'

'You're right, it's not,' said Owen. 'And yes, with someone she met through work.'

Harry didn't reply, and he immediately wondered who it was. Probably someone she met while organising the gala, which means it could be anyone from a caterer to another celebrity donating merchandise. He frowned, trying to come up with likely celebrities. Another Quidditch player? Or maybe a radio host, or musician?

What if it's Lockhart? he thought in a panic. No, he's a million years old now, and she'd see right through him. Lockhart had, in fact, been released from house arrest, and Harry had heard hints from several directions that he wanted forgiveness. Not bloody likely, you Obliviating fraud.

It was time for the match, and Harry stood in the corridor setting his intentions. Expand into awareness. Notice the Snitch as soon as it appears. Avoid Bludgers. Ignore all the celibacy timers in the stands.

Unsurprisingly, the stands were full of them. Some were digital and others analogue, with flowers for hands. One banner depicted a timer on the side of a corked cannon, prompting Harry to wonder what would happen in eight days, six hours, and forty-one minutes. I'm not sure I want to know, he thought.

'Feint your rocks off!' suggested one sign, and Harry flew near the person holding it and saluted him. 'That's my plan!' he shouted to loud cheers. And another sign depicted Harry zooming like mad and said, 'It'll only make you stronger.'

He scanned the stadium for hostile signs, and there were plenty deriding his new name. There was an even split between 'Harry Toffer-Blatch' and 'Harry Plocker-Blatch,' as well as several celibacy variants, including 'Harry Tosser-Splat.' Not bad, he thought.

To his chagrin, several banners derided his aristocratic pretensions. 'Nice try, Potter, but you'll never be one of us,' proclaimed a sign. Fuck off, thought Harry, swooping in for a closer look, and he laughed when he saw Draco and Pansy holding it.

The balls were launched, and the banners disappeared from Harry's notice. Instead he felt the intensity he remembered from the match against the Wasps, when he entered a fugue state and caught the Snitch on instinct. Sweet Merlin, yes! he thought exultantly as he realised what was happening. The three-dimensional space above the pitch seemed to merge with his own being, and he knew he'd be in place when the Snitch arrived.

He passed the time by feinting. The Banchory Bangers' Seeker, Selden Puttick, tried desperately to keep up with him, but he hadn't a hope. Harry flew unerringly through his teammates and rivals alike, and it felt like a perfectly choreographed dance. Puttick occasionally tried to engage him, but Harry just said, 'Sorry—fugue state!'

His hands weren't glowing, but he was awash in Light magic. Is this what the mature version feels like? he wondered, before his mind went silent again. Only a glance at a celibacy timer told him that time was passing, and he was pleased that the fans were getting their money's worth.

Nearly two hours in, after yet another exhilarating feint, Harry thought, It's time. And right on cue, the Snitch appeared ten yards in front of him, and he caught it easily. He cried out in ecstasy, deliberately glowing at last.

'Holy fuck!' shouted Darren. 'That decides it—I need to learn Light magic.'

The Cannons circled the stadium, and Harry took a solo lap, to the chant, 'Potter-Black! Potter-Black!' They got my name right, he thought, and the crowd once again drew his attention.

Harry regained his normal power of speech and cognition, and when he landed his teammates hugged him. 'It happened again, didn't it?' said Owen.

'It did,' said Harry. 'Oh bugger, does this mean the team will insist I stay celibate?'

'Don't tempt me,' said Tuttle. 'But that was first-rate. Great work, Potter.'

Harry pulled Owen aside. 'That's the state,' he said. 'It has to be.'

'What do you mean?'

'The state where Light wizards can snap wands and all the rest. I felt completely linked with my surroundings. And it was all mental, no magic. But if I'd added magic ... that's what Light magic is.'

'What do you think you could have done?' asked Owen. 'Any particular magic?'

'Just protection. No wonder Light wizards don't seek out battle—it wouldn't work.' As Harry's normal thought process resumed, he looked at one of the timers. 'Bloody hell, eight more days!'

'And, he's back,' declared Owen. 'Nice to see you.'

'Very funny. I didn't even think about it during the match.'

'Can you spend the next eight days like that?'

'If only,' said Harry, walking towards Puttick. 'I'm sorry!' he called to the other Seeker. 'Fugue state!'

'I know, you told me. I was hoping you'd start blathering like you did with Wither, but all you did was feint. Fuck, that was uncanny! Was that Light magic?'

'No, it was concentration. I didn't perform any magic, other than flying.'

'How did you learn that?'

Voldemort, thought Harry. I learnt it by having a bloody Horcrux in my skull. 'I don't know,' he said. 'The war, maybe.'

Puttick shook his head. 'Screw Routledge—you need to fly for England. And don't listen to anyone who says you don't deserve your life now.'

'Cheers,' said Harry. 'I appreciate it. The last Seekers' night out was rough.'

'We need to grow up. I'm sorry I couldn't win, but it was an honour flying against you today.'

They shook hands, and Harry joined his teammates in front of the reporters, who gushed over his performance. He dodged questions about flying for England, only saying that he was still new to the league and that someone with more experience might be preferable.

One reporter asked about his celibacy vow, and whether it contributed to his victory that afternoon. Harry said, 'I can't tell you how tempted I am to say it was essential, just so all the other Seekers get pressured into it, but I'm not convinced it played a role. I experienced the same mental state last month against the Wasps, and I definitely wasn't practising celibacy.' He refrained from saying he'd slept with three witches that week, including the one from Sorceress, knowing the reporters would work it out themselves.

'How do you plan to end your celibacy vow?' asked a journalist.

'How do you think?' he retorted, prompting laughter.

'With whom?'

'No comment.'

When the reporters dispersed, invited guests were allowed onto the pitch. Kingsley Shacklebolt and his family offered their congratulations, and Kingsley said, 'If I'd known you could fly like that, I'd have sacked you myself. Well done!'

'Thanks. I'm glad I could put on a good show this time,' said Harry, referring to the last home match, which had ended after only a quarter hour.

'You've proven yourself a shockingly good showman,' said Kingsley. 'Don't rule out a political career after you retire from Quidditch.'

'Are you joking? I'm one scandal after another!'

'Yes, but you get through them unscathed, because you're so sincere. Don't underestimate that. I never thought I'd say this, but you could be Minister one day if you wanted.'

'I don't want it. And believe me, I have a few scandals in the pipeline that'll change your mind,' said Harry, thinking about the underwear adverts.

Kingsley frowned. 'Nothing too bad, I hope.'

'More of the same, really. We'll have a good laugh in a couple of months when they come out.'

Next came Ron, raving about the match and demanding Harry remain celibate. 'Clearly there's a connection!'

Harry shook his head emphatically. 'The clouds could part and a booming voice could say, "Harry, stay celibate," and I'd say, 'Sorry, mate, not after next Sunday."'

'I thought you cared about the team!' pleaded Ron.

'Then maybe Janet should try it. Who knows how many more saves she'd make!'

'Point taken.' Ron looked past Harry and said, 'Warning, here comes Malfoy. That's my cue to leave.'

Harry looked over his shoulder and saw Draco approaching with Pansy, Theo, Daphne, and also Catherine White. 'Could you be more of a show-off?' said Draco.

'I'm sorry, what?'

'All those feints, and then glowing at the end. Next time just trail a banner that says, "Look at me!"'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Last time you complained the match was boring and ended too fast.'

'Don't listen to him,' said Pansy. 'The whole time he alternated between awe and fury over your flying.'

'That's not true,' said Catherine, looking admiringly at Draco. 'He's incredibly knowledgeable about Quidditch, and he explained details I could never have imagined. It made the match much more entertaining than it might have been.'

'Yes, otherwise it was positively tedious,' said Daphne. 'Harry, couldn't you have punched someone?'

'The day is young,' he said. 'Draco, what are your plans for the rest of the afternoon?'

'I promised Catherine I'd show her around our gardens. She's mad for flowers and wants a full tour.'

'Live flowers,' she said. 'Cut flowers always look so forlorn. But I can't get enough of gardens and greenhouses.'

'And Malfoy Manor has both in profusion,' said Daphne. 'How fortuitous.'

'Then don't let me stop you,' said Harry. 'Thanks for coming to the match.'

'Thanks for the tickets, Potter,' replied Draco. 'It wasn't entirely boring.'

Catherine thanked him as well before leaving with Draco. 'Did you notice how she insulted cut flowers?' asked Pansy. 'Harry, she was like that all afternoon, slagging you and puffing up Draco. You'd think he'd see through it, but he ate it up.'

'Why wouldn't he?' said Daphne. 'Everyone was gasping about Harry's feints, but Catherine barely acknowledged them. She was more interested in Draco's commentary.'

'His commentary was good,' said Theo. 'He really knows his Quidditch.'

'Yes, but you never looked away from the match,' said Pansy. 'Whereas Miss White only had eyes for her bridegroom.'

'Has he officially begun courting?' asked Harry.

'As of this afternoon. The invitation to the Manor is the first milestone.'

'Good for them,' said Harry. 'He deserves companionship, and she obviously fancies him.'

'She fancies something,' muttered Pansy.

'Do you blame her?' said Daphne. 'With her looks and bloodlines, she might as well aim high.'

'No, you're right. And it's just as easy to love a rich wizard as a poor one.'

Harry noticed Hermione trying to get his attention. 'I should probably go,' he said. 'But expect an invitation for Saturday the sixteenth. Details forthcoming.'

Pansy's eyes lit up. 'Are you throwing another party?'

'Details forthcoming,' repeated Harry. 'And don't tell anyone.'

Pansy clamped her mouth shut and nodded vigorously. 'I won't breathe a word!' she said, prompting Daphne to roll her eyes.

'Pansy can't keep a secret to save her life,' she said. 'You may as well announce it to Rita Skeeter.'

Actually, Rita's pretty good at keeping secrets, thought Harry. 'I should go, but I'm glad you could come to the match. See you on the sixteenth, if not sooner.'

'I have just the outfit!' blurted Pansy, before covering her mouth again.

Next Harry found Hermione, who was with several people he didn't recognise. 'Harry,' she said quietly, 'This is my grandfather, Edward Barnes, and my cousins Albert and Jenny Barnes.'

'It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Barnes. My name's Harry.'

'Yes, I worked that out, since everyone in the stadium was talking about you,' said Hermione's grandfather. 'And Quidditch isn't even your biggest claim to fame.'

'Did you enjoy the match?' asked Harry, attempting to steer the conversation away from himself.

'It was literally a dream come true,' said Mr Barnes. 'My granddad told me about Quidditch, only he called it Broomball, and it captured my imagination like nothing else. But I never thought I'd see it in real life.'

'It was brilliant,' said Albert. 'Hermione and Ryan already promised to take Jenny and me flying.'

'Will you go up?' Harry asked Mr Barnes.

'No, I couldn't possibly,' he said, but his eyes told a different story.

'You have to!' said Jenny. 'Your younger self would never forgive you! And I promise we won't tell Nan.'

'We'll see,' said Mr Barnes. 'But Harry, I have to thank you for saving Hermione's life.'

'Then I have to thank you for Hermione, since she saved my life more times than I can recall. I hope you've heard what a hero she was.'

'The Order of Merlin,' said Albert, smirking. 'I thought Annie was having us on, but it's really called that. Next you'll tell me there's a spell called "Abracadabra.'''

Harry and Hermione both grimaced. 'Actually, there is,' said Hermione. 'It's the Killing Curse, and Harry's the only wizard who's ever survived it. Twice, in fact.'

Mr Barnes, Albert, and Jenny looked at him in awe, but Harry shook his head. 'It wasn't my doing. The first time was because my mum sacrificed her life to protect me, and the second time was ... complicated. But not because I have any special talent.'

'No, you're only the best Seeker in England, according to everyone in the stands,' said Jenny.

'And apparently a bit of a lady-killer,' said Mr Barnes, with a wink.

Harry looked at Hermione accusingly, and she said, 'Don't blame me! I didn't say a word.'

'No, we worked it out,' said Albert. 'Hermione didn't get all the brains in the family.'

'We went to the souvenir shop before the match started,' said Jenny, 'and the number of women swooning over your poster told the whole story. Not to mention all the banners.'

'Those banners were almost as fascinating as the gameplay!' exclaimed Mr Barnes.

'Hermione, do you think they aroused suspicion?' asked Harry, indicating her relatives.

'No. I cast a mild Notice-Me-Not around us, so they were free to gape as much as they wanted. And Walter and Lucinda were there to answer questions as well.'

'Lucinda was hilarious!' said Jenny. 'One time after Ryan scored a goal, she said, 'Well done, Ryan! Not that it matters, of course, since Quidditch is above all a sport of innumeracy."'

Albert added, 'Later she said you should just punch the other Seeker and put him out of his misery.'

'And she praised someone who was wearing a "Mothers Against Harry Potter" badge,' said Jenny.

Harry was puzzled. 'Why? Has she turned on me?'

'No,' said Hermione. 'She praised her courage for wearing it at Chudley Stadium, but then asked why she was still cross with you even though you'd taken a celibacy vow.'

'And?'

'The woman said, "Harry Potter's libertine ways are only part of the problem." According to her, your tirade against Cassia Dexter not only proved how ungrateful you are, but also set a harmful example of disrespecting one's elders.'

'Oh for Merlin's sake,' snapped Harry. 'Was I disrespectful towards Voldemort? Maybe I should have called him Mr Riddle. Or Lord Riddle, if I'd really wanted to suck up.'

Laughing, Hermione turned to her family and said, 'Now you've seen a hint of Harry's famous temper. Which is actually much improved.'

'Again, probably thanks to Hermione. She's been by far the best influence on me. I can't tell you how grateful I am to know her, and to have her in my life.'

He finally returned to the locker room for Tuttle's notes, and after showering he joined his teammates at the Cracked Spyglass. One of the fans tried draping a Union Jack around him but he resisted, and he was relieved when someone pointed out the English national team didn't use the British flag.

Harry did his best to interact with the fans, but he was tired and no longer elated from his fugue state. Gemma eventually said, 'Leave Toffer alone—he looks completely knackered. And besides, he needs to rest before babysitting.'

'You're babysitting!' exclaimed a fan. 'What's your hourly rate, and who the hell can afford it?'

'It's for my godson, free of charge.'

'Well, it's not as if you can do anything else tonight,' said a wizard, guffawing.

Harry couldn't even fake a smile—not after more than an hour of celibacy jokes. Fortunately the fans were all plastered, and they cheered once more when he left to go home.

Lying down on his favourite sofa, he closed his eyes and thought, Note to self: Don't go to the Spyglass next Saturday. After only half an hour of rest, he bolted down dinner and changed into clothes more suitable for playing with a toddler. Next he grabbed several boutonnières for Owen's daughters and travelled by Floo to Andromeda's house.

Teddy was still eating when he arrived. 'Is that a new trick?' asked Harry.

'Yes, and it's very convenient,' she said. 'Dora never came up with that one.'

She was still preparing dinner for Simon, who hadn't arrived yet, and Teddy was in his high chair, playing with blocks. His hands were occupied, but he was able to feed himself with a long elephant's trunk, which he used to convey sliced apples into his mouth.

'I know I shouldn't let him play at the table,' said Andromeda, 'but it allows me to cook uninterrupted. So please don't tell Narcissa I'm not teaching him proper manners yet.'

'Narcissa probably never cooked a meal in her life,' said Harry. 'So she's in no position to judge.'

'You're right, of course. And I'd long since got over thinking that way. But spending time with her has brought back memories of our mother and the way we were raised, and I worry I'm being too lax.'

'Do you mean you mightn't disown Teddy if he marries someone you don't like? You're right, that's unforgivably lax.'

She smiled. 'By the way, you're a dear to watch him tonight. I'd never have asked if you hadn't volunteered.'

'I'm his godfather,' said Harry. 'You're allowed to ask.'

'I know, but you have so little time to yourself. So, thank you.'

'You're welcome. And I'm glad you're seeing Simon again.'

'The first time scarcely counted,' she said. 'Teddy started shrieking halfway through dinner, and Simon was kind enough to distract him while I called everyone I knew in search of ear drops. And by the end I was so frazzled that Simon offered to postpone, which I appreciated.'

Harry didn't mention what Simon had told him the previous night: 'She seemed mortified that Teddy wouldn't stop crying, and that she'd run out of drops. I'd gladly have stayed, but she had Teddy on her lap and he clearly wanted attention, poor thing.'

'Do you like him so far?' asked Harry.

'Yes, although I only see friendship between us. I simply haven't the time for more than that.'

Teddy finished eating, and Andromeda gave Harry a bag of supplies. 'There are extra nappies, but you can always Vanish the contents of his old ones if you're unsure how to change him. He can't go all day like that, but a few hours won't kill him.'

'I'm sure I can work it out,' said Harry. He examined a miniature cot and asked, 'Is this where he'll sleep?'

'Yes. Just enlarge it, pop him in, and charm it against outside noises. That way you can keep an eye on him—the light won't disturb him.'

She thanked him several more times before he scooped up Teddy and brought him to Owen and Jill's. By then Teddy no longer had a trunk, and he merely had magenta hair. Owen laughed when he saw Harry with a changing bag over his shoulder and a toddler in his arms. 'Welcome to your future,' he said. 'And Jill, you were right.'

'Of course I was right,' she said. 'Harry's not daft enough to wear fitted robes and flowers to play with a baby.'

'Thank you for believing in me, Jill,' he said. 'And Owen, I'm insulted.'

'Strictly speaking, he didn't think you were daft,' she said. 'He thought you were vain.'

'Oi! That's even worse!'

Jill gave Harry a conspiratorial look. 'He was sure you'd dress up on the off chance Fiona turned up while you were still here. But she's unlikely to return before nine, and you said you'd be gone by half eight.'

'That's the idea, but I'm hoping Andromeda takes her time. She's with my tutor, Simon, and I'd love for them to hit it off.'

'Your werewolf tutor? Did he get more clients after your broadcast on Tuesday?'

'Yes, and so did the other FLOOF tutors.'

'Marvellous,' said Jill, leading him into the lounge. 'All you have to do is mention it, and suddenly there's a craze for self-improvement. Have you considered promoting something completely outrageous, just to see if it catches on?'

Harry glanced at Owen, who said, 'I haven't told her about your latest endorsement, which will surely put that to the test.'

Jill's eyes lit up. 'What is it?'

'Er, not in Britain. But I'm doing underwear adverts in Japan and North America.'

The three children—Kate, Liza, and Matthew—had been otherwise engaged, but the word 'underwear' caused an explosion of giggles.

'Underwear adverts!' exclaimed Liza, still laughing. 'What are those?'

'They're pants with adverts on them,' said Kate. 'Right?'

'No, that's silly,' declared Matthew. 'You'd have to show people your pants for anyone to see them.'

This prompted even more laughter and a raucous conversation amongst the children about underwear adverts for Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. Meanwhile, Jill asked, 'What inspired this bold new endorsement?'

'What do you think?' said Owen. 'He now has several dozen new relations, formerly disinherited, and he's expected to improve their prospects.'

'I've also been charged with rebuilding the Black fortune, although I can't in good conscience restore it to its previous level. I've heard stories all week from one of the portraits about how extravagant the family was, and I refuse to tempt my offspring like that.'

'Anything good?' she asked.

He started telling them about Alphard Odysseus Black, but Teddy became too demanding, and Harry's evening of fatherhood began. Fortunately the other children took an interest, and a wild game commenced in which they found pictures of animals and tried getting Teddy to imitate them. It was great fun until it wasn't, and Teddy made his displeasure known. Harry soothed him by lifting him overhead, which turned into a flying game for all the kids.

Eventually Kate, Liza, and Matthew all changed into pyjamas, which revived the underwear discussion. The girls got upset because they wanted to wear their boutonnières on their pyjamas, and they refused to believe there wasn't a charm to prevent them from getting crushed.

'But there's a charm for everything,' wailed Kate.

'No, there isn't,' said Matthew.

'Yes, there is!' insisted Kate. 'Mummy broke her favourite mug this morning, and she used Reparo to fix it. Mummy, why can't you just Reparo the flowers in the morning?'

'Reparo can't fix everything, sweetie,' said Jill. 'But I'll put a Stasis Charm on the flowers overnight, so when you put them on in the morning they'll be perfect, and then you can wear them all day long.'

Harry set up Teddy's cot in the lounge and read him two picture books until Teddy's eyes started closing. He tentatively laid the toddler down, but then he woke up and needed two more books before sleep came in earnest. Jill and Owen emerged soon after and flopped on the sofa.

'Beer?' asked Owen.

'Yes, please,' said Jill. 'What about you, Harry?'

'Yeah, thanks.' He pulled out his pocket watch and said, 'Blimey! I thought it had to be past nine, but it's not yet eight. How is that possible?'

'Parenthood,' said Jill. 'The days go slowly but the years go quickly.'

'I'm starting to understand why Walburga Black left Sirius and his brother with Kreacher. Not that I'd do that, of course, but I can see the temptation.'

Jill nodded. 'Even with magic, there's no shortcut to child-rearing. Kids crave attention, and there's no charm to satisfy that need. It has to be the real thing.'

Harry was silent. I had endless attention before my parents died, and then nothing after that, for years, he thought. And now endless attention again.

'At least Muggles can plop kids in front of the telly,' he said absently.

Jill's face fell. 'Is that what your aunt and uncle did?'

Harry wasn't sure how to answer, and he regretted saying anything. 'Probably,' he mumbled, hoping she'd get the hint.

She did, and Owen arrived with three bottles of beer. Harry sipped his in silence. Aunt Petunia probably dumped me in front of the telly from day one, just to keep me quiet. She had infinite patience for Dudley and probably played with him for hours, but I can't imagine she gave me any attention voluntarily, particularly if she was spooked by my eyes.

Harry wondered if Dudley would have become addicted to television if he hadn't lived there. Aunt Petunia mightn't have overindulged him, and he'd have gone outside instead of playing video games and watching crap telly all day.

While Harry was brooding, Owen and Jill discussed their Sunday plans and other domestic matters. I should have been raised like this, he thought. In a magical household, playing with siblings before being tucked into bed. And then Mum and Dad would collapse on the sofa and make plans for entertaining us the next day.

The fireplace flared green. It must be Andromeda, he thought, and he was disappointed her date had already ended. But before he saw who it was, a voice said, 'Quidditch players are the worst! No offence, Owen.'

'Didn't you like him?' asked Jill.

'No,' said Fiona. 'But he liked himself enough for the both of us, so that's something.'

'We have company,' said Owen, indicating Harry and Teddy.

'Oh! I didn't see you there! Sorry to insult Quidditch players!'

'You insulted egotistical Quidditch players,' said Owen. 'So Harry can't possibly take offence. Oh, wait ...'

'Oi!'

Fiona and Jill both laughed. 'Trust me, Harry—you're nothing like my date tonight,' said Fiona. 'Though I might be mistaken. Owen's spent far more time with you than I have.'

'I probably am that bad,' said Harry, relieved that Fiona hadn't enjoyed her date. 'But I'm trying to improve.'

'It's probably hard when you keep winning like that,' she said. 'I heard bits and pieces of the match, and the announcers couldn't stop praising you.'

'It's fortunate Harry doesn't hear them,' said Owen. 'But you didn't like Maddox? I'd heard good things about him.'

'So did I,' said Fiona. 'Mostly during the last hour. Like how he's the league's best Beater and a shoo-in to play for Wales.'

'Morgan Maddox, from the Tornados?' asked Harry.

'Yes, the one who hit you with a Bludger. He's proud of that, you know.'

He should be—I'm hard to hit, thought Harry, but he didn't want sound egotistical. 'He probably is one of the best in the league,' said Harry. 'Although I'm partial to the Cannons Beaters. Did you meet him through WORF?'

'Yes, and I shouldn't criticise him, because he's being very generous. Not only is he donating signed merchandise, but also a two-hour private Quidditch lesson and even a dinner date.'

'To the highest bidder?' asked Harry. 'Is that common?'

'Yes, and they bring in a fortune. We auction off dates at the end of the evening, when everyone's plastered.'

Harry tried not to look offended he hadn't been asked, and the others laughed. 'I deliberately didn't ask you, because of safety concerns,' said Fiona. 'WORF would never endanger a political figure like that.'

'Surely Harry can handle himself,' said Jill. 'The biggest risk would probably be bidders cursing each other.'

'Could there be ground rules?' asked Harry. 'A date in public, for example?'

'You'd bring in much more gold if it were private,' said Jill with a wink.

'Of course it could be public, and whatever else you require to feel safe,' said Fiona. 'But would you really do that? It's not necessary. Between your eyeglasses and broken broomstick, you've already done plenty.'

'If it helps WORF, I'd be glad to. Could I do it on a weeknight? I'd rather not give up a Saturday night.'

'Right, they're for babysitting,' said Fiona, indicating Teddy. 'Yes, a weeknight is fine.'

Harry glanced at Owen, whose expression was serious, bordering on stern. Don't flirt, thought Harry, and he tried to do the opposite of turning on the charm. Unfortunately, it backfired and a wave of Light magic overtook him. To his surprise, he didn't start glowing, but his eyes locked on Fiona's and he knew he was flooding her with the Look.

'Excuse me,' he blurted, rushing through the front door. What the hell just happened? he thought, still awash in bliss. I wasn't even trying to charm her.

But he was reluctant to stifle his Light magic. It wasn't the fugue state he'd experienced during the match, but simply a cascade of love and affection, primarily but not exclusively towards Fiona. She's off limits, he reminded himself, and he gently guided his thoughts towards Sophie, whom he'd see the next day. And hopefully the following Sunday, when his vow ended.

He returned after a ten-minute stroll around the cottage. Fiona and Jill were talking about the kids, and Harry examined the bookcase. 'Are you looking for something?' asked Owen.

'Not specifically. I've started reading Catcher in the Rye, which my tutor recommended. Are you familiar with it?'

'It's American, right?' Harry nodded, and Owen said, 'I know of it but haven't read it.'

'It's written from the perspective of a fucked-up teenager, not long after the Second World War. So you can see why my tutor thought I might relate.'

'Is the main character a chronic flirt?'

Harry sighed. 'That wasn't on purpose. In fact, I was trying to do the opposite and fade into the background, but it completely backfired.'

'I know you're not deliberately trying to charm her,' said Owen. 'And maybe I'm fighting the inevitable, but I just see disaster if you and she get together.'

'Am I such a monster?' asked Harry. 'You never knew me with Ginny, but I was completely devoted to her.'

'I know. But you were also burying a lot of trauma, and now that it's coming out ...' He paused. 'You're too much in flux. Helena was right to insist you take that vow.'

Numerous counter-arguments popped into Harry's mind, but he knew this wasn't the time. So he picked a book from the shelf and started reading, apart from the others.

Andromeda arrived at nine, with apologies for being late. 'I must be starved for adult conversation, because I completely lost track of time.'

'It's fine,' said Harry. 'Teddy's been asleep for more than an hour. Does this mean you enjoyed yourself?'

'As I said, I'm starved for conversation. So yes, I had a good time.'

After introducing Andromeda to everyone, including Fiona, Harry accompanied her and Teddy home. Andromeda laid the baby on his cot and put a blanket over him, and she and Harry returned to the lounge. 'I don't know how you do it,' he said, sitting down. 'Two hours with him felt like an eternity.'

'That's parenthood. And as hard as it is, it beats the alternative.'

'No Teddy, you mean?'

She nodded. 'It's nice to feel needed, and to have a purpose. Without Teddy, I might have faded into nothingness after losing Ted and Dora. But Teddy keeps me very much alive, if exhausted.'

Harry was reluctant to ask the next question, but it was eating at him. 'How do you think Teddy would react if you just ignored him? Not that I'm proposing it, but I'm curious how that might affect a baby.'

There was no mistaking the compassion in her eyes, but otherwise her expression was neutral, which Harry appreciated. 'It would depend on how long I ignored him. I ignore him for minutes at a time, if he's fussing but I know he's all right. Babies need to learn to comfort themselves, otherwise they won't become fully independent. And sometimes babies cry when all they really need is sleep, in which case I might ignore him for a quarter hour or more. Which is fine—he falls asleep, and when he wakes up he's back to normal.'

'Right,' said Harry. 'But what about longer?'

Andromeda looked away. 'I can only speculate. What I imagine is that the baby would cry louder for a while, but eventually learn that crying doesn't help. And so they'd withdraw.' She looked at Harry again. 'You've seen how Teddy smiles at adults and older children, and they usually smile back. A withdrawn child mightn't do that, even if the adult smiles first. And they might be the same way with their peers later on.'

'But wouldn't they learn to comfort themselves somehow?'

'Again, I'm no expert. They probably do learn to comfort themselves, enough to survive anyway. But whether they thrive is another story.' After a silence, she said, 'Harry, you did more than survive. To me that's more impressive than the Killing Curses.'

'It was my mother's protection. It must have kept me from turning out like Voldemort.'

'You could never have turned out like Voldemort,' she began, but he interrupted her.

'Yes, I could have.'

'Impossible. You don't have that kind of evil in you. If you did, we'd have seen it by now.'

He sighed, knowing what he needed to tell her. 'I did have that kind of evil in me—nearly my entire life. This is classified, but my scar ... it was a fragment of Voldemort's soul. It broke off and stuck to me when he tried to kill me as a baby. That's why I could speak Parseltongue. That's how he could read my thoughts, and vice versa. That's why I had to let him kill me, so he'd destroy it. Otherwise he'd keep coming back.'

Andromeda went pale. 'A piece of his soul? How is that possible?'

After a brief explanation of Horcruxes, he told her how the one in his head had affected the Dursleys. 'It wasn't entirely the Horcrux's fault, but it didn't help.'

To Harry's surprise, Andromeda pulled him into her arms. 'Oh, Harry, when I think about what you've endured, and how alone you were for so long. And that you're still able to feel love, and express it ...'

'A bit too often, some might say,' joked Harry, in an attempt not to cry.

She squeezed him tighter and said, 'Yes, you're not perfect, but no one is. And if everyone were as imperfect as you, the world would be a much better place.'

'More heavily populated,' he added, and she laughed.

Andromeda released him from her hug. 'I'm so sorry for all you've been through. And now that Teddy is as old as you were when your parents died, the contrast has to be particularly hard.'

'It's not just Teddy. Seeing normal families is always difficult on some level. It's like being on the other side of a thick glass, seeing what should have been.'

'Can you grieve?' she asked.

'How do you mean?'

'When you see the life you should have had, can you grieve for it?'

'Haven't I already?'

'I have no idea. As I said, I'm not an expert. But I know I feel the same way when I see women my age with their husband and grown children, like there's a wall of glass keeping it from me. And it helps a little just to pause and allow myself to grieve. Not too long, mind you—there's no use in wallowing.'

Harry was amused by Andromeda's stiff upper lip in the midst of heartfelt advice. 'I can try. I have the time, certainly.' He paused and added, 'Have I mentioned how helpful Banthora Black has been this week?'

'Banthora Black? Is that a portrait?'

He told her about Banthora, and how kind she was in spite of her severe demeanour. 'Not only is she helping me with my vow, but she's telling me a lot about the family. She even told me about Dorea Black, my great-grandmother, although she didn't know much. Only that she married a Potter and didn't maintain close ties, by mutual agreement.'

'I'm glad you're learning the family history. If you sift out the Dark magic and greed—and profligacy—there are some good traits.'

'Yes, I know. But in spite of everything, I still identify more with the Potters.' He shook his head quickly and said, 'I should get over that. This is my family now—same as the Potters.'

'It is. But remember you're part of the family too. Your traits could well become family traits.'

'Not all of them, I hope.'

She looked him in the eye and said, 'I can think of no better trait to pass along than the ability to turn away from the Darkest magic, even when it's practically a part of you.'

'You have that quality too,' said Harry.

'And so does Narcissa,' she replied. 'It remains to be seen whether Draco does, but I'm not without hope.'

It seems unlikely, thought Harry that night before bed. But stranger things have happened.