'You're late,' said Janet when Harry arrived at the Cannons training grounds.

'No, I'm not. I still have ten minutes.'

'But now everyone expects you to arrive at half-eight after you've had someone over.'

'I know they do,' said Harry. 'But you try telling Sophie I need to leave twenty minutes early just to keep people from worrying.'

Janet smirked. 'Did she hold you in a thigh-grip, like a Bond villainess?'

No, she used her arms too, thought Harry.

'Snitchbottom!' called Darren, emerging from the locker room. 'I assume your celibacy met a timely demise last night?'

'It did. And how was your evening?'

'Brilliant. I went to a countdown party at Stardust. Jocelyn and Maryann were there as well, although they've changed up their look a bit.'

'Oh? More menswear?'

'That's Maryann's angle, and it's dead sexy. She wore Harry Potter robes, only with platform boots and no trousers.'

Harry paused to enjoy the mental image. 'Nice. What about Jocelyn?'

'She's decided to embrace the pure-blood thing and dress like a portrait,' said Darren. 'An extremely hot portrait. I thought she looked good before, but it turns out some women were just made to wear a laced bodice.'

'Did you go home with either of them?'

'No, they've moved up in the world. Jocelyn was with Rex Bartholomew, who plays Beater for the Tornados, and Maryann was with some American wizard whose grandfather invented the self-driving car.'

'Huh, good for them, I guess. But what about you?'

'Don't you worry about me, Snitchbottom. I did just fine,' he said vaguely.

Harry narrowed his eyes. 'You don't know her name, do you?'

'I thought I did! I could have sworn it was Isabella, but then she said she hated when people heard it and assumed she was male. And it was way too late to ask. Or early, rather. But no matter—there'll be heaps of new witches at your party.'

'I have a question about the party, actually.' Harry told Darren about the letter he'd received from Alistair.

'He offered you a favour?' exclaimed Darren. 'Did you reply? Please tell me you didn't fuck it up somehow.'

'Er, I hope not. I didn't want to keep him waiting, so I wrote and said he was welcome at the party, and that I'd get back to him this week about his offer.'

Darren took a deep breath. 'That's probably all right, since he knows how inexperienced you are. I assume there's nothing specific you want right now. Or is there?'

'No, I'd rather save it for later, if that's not too much to ask.'

'It's not, since he brought it up. But you'll need to ask him in person.'

'Now there's an idea ... I can't take Sophie out to dinner tonight because I have my Light magic lesson, but I could bring her to Penumbra afterwards.'

'Fantastic,' said Darren. 'I'm tempted to alert the paparazzi, if only to see what she looks like.'

'Dressed up for Penumbra,' mused Harry, picturing what she might wear. 'I should give her advance notice.'

'Potter, focus! And warn Alistair you're coming as well.'

Harry wordlessly asked Kreacher to tell Sophie about the plan, and he resolved to owl Alistair. But through Lara and not Mrs Thwip. He joined his teammates near the benches a few minutes later, and Tuttle set them running.

Janet found him again. 'So how was last night? As good as you remembered?'

'Oh god, yes. And it's brilliant being with Sophie again.'

'Have you begged her to move in yet?'

'No, but I doubt she's interested. Between Paris and her career, I can't see her wanting to stay in London.'

'You're sounding a bit defeatist there, Snitchbottom. Have you forgotten you're the wizarding world's most eligible bachelor?'

'Oi! You're the second person to call me that!'

'That's because you are. And who better than a French model to dash everyone else's hopes?'

An image of Fiona popped into Harry's mind. 'I don't even know if I fancy her that way.' Janet raised one eyebrow, and he said, 'Obviously we're attracted to each other, but on Saturday I experienced intense feelings of love for Ekantika Singh, and I don't know if I can settle for anything less than that.'

'Is that how she got the Snitch?'

'Not exactly,' said Harry, and he explained what had happened during the match.

She stared at him. 'Snitchbottom, you are well and truly fucked. What'll happen when some gold-digger figures out how to manipulate you like that?'

We could have a double wedding with Draco and Catherine, he thought. 'Er, maybe my friends could stop me?' he said feebly.

'Could anyone have stopped you from wanting to marry Singh if she hadn't withdrawn her Seeker-Veela mojo?'

'No,' he admitted. 'I'd have moved mountains to be with her.' A wave of longing overtook him, and he had to remind himself it wasn't real.

'That's it—I'm giving you an assignment: Your job is to fuck without falling in love. I know you've done it already, with C-squareds and the like, but now you have to try it with Sophie, who I assume you're actually fond of.'

'I am. But it's more like how I felt about Lydia, which is odd considering they have nothing in common.'

'Except you,' said Janet. 'But here's part two of your assignment: No matter how sentimental you feel after shooting your wad into her—don't interrupt me!—you need to remember it's mostly hormones and Light magic.'

And my sucking pit of need, he thought. 'How exactly is this supposed to help?'

'It'll shore up your defences against some future witch who wants to exploit you. You'll recognise the post-coital glow for what it is, rather than interpreting it as proof you were meant for her alone.'

'But what if it turns out Sophie and I are meant for each other? It's not out of the question.'

'I'll be the judge of that,' said Janet. 'And Ron can weigh in as well.'

After a silence, he said, 'So what's your excuse?'

'What do you mean, my excuse?'

'Your excuse with Ron? Wasn't it supposed to be a fling?'

She frowned. 'It was. And that's why you need to follow my advice, or else you might fall in love with a maddeningly cocky yet insecure ginger.'

'Love? Did I miss something? And does Ron know?'

'Yes. I blurted it out last night, at the countdown party.'

'What did he say?'

'His ears turned pink. But then later he said he loved me too.'

Harry was having trouble reading her expression. 'Isn't this good news?'

'How should I know?' snapped Janet. 'It might just be some horrid combination of habit and hormones.'

'How does it compare to other times you've been in love? Or is this the first time?'

'You mean, do I fall in love six times a month like you do?' Harry scowled, and she said, 'I've certainly dated before, and I had something resembling a serious relationship during the final year of the war. But that was definitely hormones, with an added dollop of danger because he was Muggle-born. Which makes me wary of how I feel now.'

'What are you afraid of?'

'One of us doing something idiotic. Because we're both capable of it—don't interrupt me!'

'I didn't,' said Harry. 'That was just a cough.'

She gave him a sidelong glance as they ran. 'Ron has his stupid temper, and I can't resist provoking it. Which is usually fine—we've had big blow-ups before. But one of these days either Ron or I will fuck things up irrevocably. Probably Ron. And then I'll end up with some boring wizard and get maudlin whenever I see little gingers running about.'

'I really can't see you settling for someone boring.'

'Then I'll be an old maid, and I'll eventually have to steal hair samples from nubile young Muggles so I can Polyjuice myself into someone fuckable. And I'll have too many cats, and the only reason people will bother talking to me will be to find out what Harry Potter was really like.'

'Was?' said Harry, concerned.

'Yes, because I'll live to be eleventy-zillion years old, like all the women in my family—even the Muggles. And no one will believe I was a league Keeper because I'll either be frail, fat, or both.'

'I never realised how pessimistic you are. Has Ron seen this side of you?'

'Yes, several times. At first he thought I was having him on, but then he realised I wasn't. And he got really sweet and protective—I doubt you've even seen that side of him.'

Harry had, in fact, seen that side of Ron, both with Ginny and Hermione. 'I think you're really good together. A lot better than he and Hermione were, to be honest.'

Janet looked pleased. 'I agree. On a related note, I can't picture you and Ginny together at all.'

'Oi! We dated for more than a year!'

'No, you didn't—she dated some dreary Auror. If you'd married, she'd have become frumpy before her time, and you'd never have realised you're a flaming exhibitionist with a clothing fetish.'

As much as Harry wanted to argue, he couldn't. 'What's your point?' he said sullenly.

She was silent a moment. 'I was mainly trying to provoke you, but we've actually come back round to where we started. You very nearly married the wrong witch because you mistook dependency for love. Which is why you need to follow my instructions and shag Sophie without turning into a lovesick git. Mind you, you're still fucked if an evil version of Ekantika Singh targets you, but otherwise it might allow you to date like a normal person for the next two years.'

Harry was nodding. 'I like the sound of that. But is it all right if I tell Sophie what I'm doing? I don't want to mislead her.'

'I'll allow it this time, but only because you're still learning.'

They were running more slowly than usual, so Harry challenged her to a race for the rest of their laps. 'You're on,' she said, and they sprinted ahead. Janet won, due to her superior height, and they were both red-faced and overheated by the end.

Harry removed his top layer before conjuring a bottle of water. Janet was still distracted, but Gemma took one look and started laughing. 'Are you preparing for the party already?' she asked.

'Oh, bugger, I forgot,' groaned Harry, looking at his clean-shaven arms. 'It was for the photo shoot yesterday.'

'Shouldn't it have grown back overnight?'

Harry sighed. 'Apparently only the hair on my head does that.'

Janet was laughing as well. 'Please tell me you shaved more than your arms.'

'He didn't shave anything—it was Kreacher,' said Gemma. 'Wasn't it?'

'I refuse to answer that question.'

'Then here's another one: Are you going have Kreacher shave you again on Saturday? Cause you can't wear a low-cut dress with chest and arm stubble.'

'She's right,' said Darren, who'd just arrived. 'You need to be all in or all out.'

'Yes, I'll shave again for the party,' said Harry. 'What about you, Darren?'

'Smooth as a baby's arse. My goal is to look like someone I'd shag, and you know my type.'

'Bipedal?' said Harry.

'No, high-maintenance. I have no use for the natural look—she needs to put in some effort, or else she's just lazy.'

Gemma was aghast. 'So if a woman has higher priorities than giving you a hard-on, you're not interested?'

'I wouldn't phrase it like that,' said Darren. 'I just like seeing the full expression of female beauty, as opposed to the default level. And I'll wager you feel the same way about men.'

'I mean, yeah, I'd rather they shower and not just wear clothes they picked up off the floor,' she said, with a glance at Harry. 'But I'd just be embarrassed for them if they spent too much time primping.'

Janet asked about the photo shoot, and Harry told them the broad outlines without revealing Sophie's role. 'I'm also expected to go to Boston in November for a radio interview.'

'On an American radio show?' asked Gemma. 'Oh, Toffer, you have no idea what you're getting into.'

'What do you mean? How are they different to British radio shows?'

'My brother listens to American radio on the internet, and it's completely outrageous. It's like Lee and George times a hundred, with a huge dose of Janet.'

'But that's Muggle radio, right?' said Harry.

'Good point—it is. But you'd better do your homework, so you're not completely blindsided.'

Harry wasn't too worried after months of taunting, but he resolved to ask Randall what to expect. 'Thanks for the warning. The whole point is for me to generate interest in the product, so I'd rather not blow it from the start.'

All morning and afternoon, Harry's teammates ribbed him about the end of his celibacy vow, and everyone was curious to see Sophie. By the end of practice, he was impatient to see her as well, but he had to go first to Gringotts to formalise the condom scheme and retrieve the no-longer-cursed tiara.

'What's that?' said Draco, who arrived just as Harry left the counter with the small parcel.

None of your business, he thought, but he decided it would be more fun to get a rise out of Draco. 'It's a tiara from the Black family vault.'

Draco grimaced. 'Please don't tell me you're planning to wear it on Saturday. You may be Head of House, but don't insult me by wearing the family jewels.'

'Don't tempt me. And no, I'm not planning to wear it—Gemma is.'

Draco's grimace curled into a sneer. 'Not Gemma Rees! She's a good flyer, I'll grant you, but she's not what I'd call tiara material.'

Harry stiffened. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'I know what you're thinking, but I'm not referring to her Blood Status.'

'What a relief,' said Harry dryly. 'Then what's your objection?'

'Let's just say she's not exactly from the upper reaches of society.'

'Neither was my mother. Go on.'

Draco sniffed and said, 'I know that, but at least she went to Hogwarts. And your father's family was respectable.'

'You are truly a determined snob,' said Harry, heading down the corridor towards their meeting room, where George and Percy were already seated.

'Did you come here together?' asked Percy.

'Yes,' said Draco. 'Potter skipped Quidditch practice and we spent the day trying on dresses for his party. After this we're getting our hair done.'

'No, he saw me in the lobby and followed me in,' said Harry. 'Where's Redblade?'

'He popped in earlier, but I suspect he's waiting for you to turn up,' said George. 'I think he's afraid you'll get cold feet.'

'Don't you dare back out now,' said Draco. 'They won't sign if you're not involved, and then they'll just steal the idea.'

Looking through the doorway, Harry said, 'Say it a little louder, Malfoy—I don't think they heard you in the lobby.'

'He's right,' said George. 'They're probably listening.'

Draco rolled his eyes but mostly looked chastened. 'You're not going to back out, are you, Potter?'

'Of course he won't,' said Percy. 'Harry, even without the size enhancement, our product is a vast improvement over Muggle condoms. There's absolutely no risk of pregnancy, and the charms against breakage will literally save lives.'

'I know, but I'm still not happy about the Ministry side,' said Harry.

'You've never been afraid to break an unjust law,' said George. 'And this is no different.'

'Untrue,' said Harry. 'I didn't make a massive profit off my wartime law-breaking.'

Draco snorted in derision. 'Of course you did. Do you really think they'd pay you to model underwear if you were just a Seeker?'

George and Percy both stared at Harry. 'Please tell me I heard that right,' said George excitedly.

'You did, but don't announce it yet. And yes, I'm a huge sell-out.'

'Fantastic,' said George. 'Tell me more.'

But Redblade entered, along with a goblin Harry had never met. 'Good afternoon,' said Redblade. 'This is my superior, Icepick. He wishes to oversee the signing of the partnership agreement.'

Everyone was introduced, and Icepick spoke. 'Mr Potter-Black, I'll address you first, since this partnership wouldn't exist without your participation. Do you still intend to sign the agreement this afternoon?'

'Yes, that's why I'm here.'

'Can you offer assurances that you'll call for a review of wizard-goblin treaties in the Wizengamot?'

Harry glanced at George and Percy. 'That's certainly my intention, but it's not in the contract, and I can't guarantee success. Among other things, I'm told it could take years to build the necessary alliances.'

'Perhaps,' said Icepick. 'Although I see a formidable alliance in this very room.'

Draco's eyes shot open. 'I can't commit to that,' he declared. 'Technically, I'm only proxy for House Malfoy.'

'Your father is sentenced to life in Azkaban, without parole,' said Icepick. 'He has no power to decide. You may be young, but in time you'll be the one of the most influential wizards in Britain. Mr Potter-Black is already.'

Very clever, thought Harry. You just provoked Draco's competitive streak.

Frowning, Draco said, 'I haven't fully evaluated how revoking the treaties would affect House Malfoy.'

'Perhaps not,' said Icepick. 'But consider it this way: Mr Potter-Black might succeed without your help, in which case any benefit the treaties provide your family would be lost. And I think you'll agree that House Malfoy has prospered these last few centuries.'

'It has,' said Draco cautiously. 'Are you implying it wouldn't once Potter gets in the way?'

'All I'm saying is that goblins have long memories, and we remember who helped us. Have you heard of Aurelius Malfoy?'

'He's one of my ancestors, obviously. But I couldn't tell you which one.'

'That's surprising, since he's the reason the Malfoys were, until recently, the wealthiest family in all wizarding Britain. He was a great friend to the Goblin Nation.'

Draco was silent, and Percy said, 'Will this impact today's agreement? The rest of us are ready to sign.'

Icepick smiled toothily. 'Gringotts is happy to proceed without Mr Malfoy's participation. In fact, we prepared an alternative contract that omits him entirely.' With a respectful nod towards Harry, he said, 'Mr Potter-Black, I'm sure you'll still be happy with the terms. Gringotts will own a larger overall share, of course, but your potential earnings will be unchanged, and Messrs Weasley will retain an executive role.'

'You need my Ministry contacts!' cried Draco. 'This won't work without me.'

'Do you really think Gringotts doesn't know who to bribe?' asked Icepick. 'And I believe you already told Mr Weasley the essentials.'

Percy tried to look neutral, but his obvious lack of worry spoke volumes. 'Malfoy,' he said, 'all things equal, I'd rather work with you. And he's right about your ancestor. Aurelius Malfoy played both sides when negotiating the treaty of 1641, and the goblins rewarded him handsomely. Other families lost property during the subsequent goblin rebellions—including the Weasleys, sad to say—but not the Malfoys.'

Draco scowled at Harry. 'I won't be your lapdog, Potter. And mark my words, I'll fight to protect wizarding interests. You might be ready to hand over everything to Gringotts, but I won't sacrifice tradition at the drop of a hat.'

'But you'll work with me?' asked Harry.

'I don't have much choice,' he grumbled. 'Well played, Icepick—where do I sign?'

Redblade produced a quill, and everyone signed the agreement. Icepick pressed a heavy gold seal to the parchment, causing it to glow momentarily. 'It is done,' he said. 'Gringotts is pleased to begin a promising new chapter with Houses Malfoy and Black. And Houses Weasley and Potter as well.'

Percy burst into a loud coughing fit, which George temporarily Silenced. 'Thank you, Icepick,' he said. 'House Weasley is delighted to do business with Gringotts.'

Arrangements were made for George and Percy to work with Gringotts' manufacturing department, and the meeting ended. As soon as Icepick and Redblade left, Percy exhaled and said, 'George, thanks for the Silencing Charm. But great Merlin, when he said House Weasley ...'

'Perce, get a grip,' said George. 'You're not the eldest, and neither is Dad.'

'I realise that, but without a Wizengamot seat it hardly matters. A junior branch can easily gain ascendancy, with enough gold and a goblin alliance.'

'Why exactly weren't you in Slytherin?' asked Draco.

'He didn't need any more ambition,' said George. 'Courage, on the other hand ...'

Percy's ears turned pink, and Harry said, 'Thanks for all your work getting things off the ground. All I had to do was turn up.'

'And come up with the idea in the first place,' replied George. 'And fork over a ton of Galleons.' Draco cleared his throat, and George said, 'You too, Malfoy.'

'Are you all right?' Harry asked Draco. 'I didn't expect him to corner you like that.'

'I should have known,' said Draco, annoyed. 'Father could have warned me, but naturally I didn't tell him I was entering a contract with Harry Potter and two Weasleys.'

'He needn't find out,' said Percy. 'Assuming everything goes smoothly at the Ministry, the partnership can remain private.'

'Yes, but everyone will know when Potter and I start approaching wizards at Pratt's and telling them why we should tear up five hundred years worth of treaties.'

'Rubbish treaties,' said Harry. 'And relax, Hermione is on it.'

'Oh, that changes everything!' said Draco brightly. 'Father will be thrilled to learn Granger is involved. Maybe she can come visit him at Azkaban so they can work out the details.'

Harry raised two fingers at him and began walking towards the lobby. Following him, Draco said, 'Why are you so grouchy? I thought your vow ended last night.'

'It did, and I'm fine. In fact, I'm going home to Sophie right now.'

Draco groaned audibly. 'What kind of twisted world allows someone like you to fuck whoever catches your eye, when I'm barely allowed to kiss the woman I love?'

'I didn't make the rules, Malfoy, and no one's forcing you to follow them.'

They reached the lobby, and Draco abruptly stopped. 'You're right. No one can tell Draco Malfoy what to do,' he said, his eyes flashing with determination.

Harry grabbed him by the shoulder. 'Yes, she can,' he growled.

'I'm not talking about Catherine, you Gryffindor moron,' said Draco, breaking free of his grasp. 'I'm talking about Mother, and everyone else who says I can't propose yet.'

Draco marched towards the counter, found a clerk, and said, 'Excuse me, I'd like to visit my vault.''

'What are you doing?' asked Harry, alarmed by Draco's sudden action.

'I'm going to show the world how much I love Catherine White. If you're letting Gemma bloody Rees wear a tiara, I insist on seeing Catherine in emeralds. Oh my god, she'll be so beautiful.'

'Slow down ... I don't know much about wizarding courtship, but isn't jewellery the point of no return?'

'It is. I was already thinking of loaning her my emerald tie pin, as a secret declaration. But with earrings as well ... it would be as good as an announcement.'

'Er, you realise my party won't be at all private, right? There won't be photographers, but otherwise it might as well be at a nightclub.'

'That's perfect. By Sunday morning, all Britain will know she's mine. Even if we have to wait another month or so, there'll be no turning back.'

People were looking at them, and Harry apologised to the goblin and raised a privacy charm. 'Draco, I understand better than anyone how impatient you are to be with her. But just today one of my teammates pointed out I can't yet be trusted to make a lifelong decision. I fall in love far too easily, and I think you're the same way.'

'No, I'm not, and we're nothing alike,' scoffed Draco. 'Didn't you nearly fall in love with a fille de joie?'

'I didn't pay her. Have you ever been with someone you weren't paying, other than Pansy?'

Draco scowled. 'That doesn't matter.'

'Yes, it does. Both of us need to learn how to be with a woman without becoming completely dependent on her. I was dependent on Ginny, and you're the same with Catherine. I'm not saying she's wrong for you, but there's really no need to rush.'

'Easy for you to say, with a French model probably waiting in bed for you right now.'

Good point, thought Harry. 'You're right. It's not my place to stop you. I just don't want you to make a decision you might regret.'

Draco narrowed his eyes. 'You're lucky my wand doesn't work, because I'm ready to curse you right now. Do you have a specific problem with Catherine, or are you just jealous?'

'Everyone thinks she's using you. Your friends, your mum ... they're all convinced she's after your fortune.'

'So they're talking behind my back?'

'Of course they are. We're alike, remember?'

Frowning, Draco said, 'What do you think?'

'I honestly don't know. I've only seen her when you're together, and she certainly seems to fancy you. But everyone says her expression changes when you're not there, which makes them think she's insincere.'

'They're just jealous. Pansy's still sore I won't marry her, and Daphne keeps trying to foist her younger sister on me. And Blaise will never be a Malfoy.'

'Perhaps that's it. And I'm sorry, I shouldn't interfere.'

'That's right, Potter—you shouldn't.' His expression frosty, he drawled, 'Don't keep your French model waiting.'

Harry cancelled the privacy charm and mumbled goodbye. He walked to the main door, and before leaving he turned back and saw a goblin lead Draco to the carts. I was foolish to think I could stop him, he thought, and he felt bad for even trying. Maybe she really does fancy him.

Fortunately, his spirits lifted when he returned to Grimmauld Place. Sophie was in the sitting room with Lodie, chattering in French over a project he couldn't see. 'I'm home,' he said, and the project and Lodie both vanished. 'What were you doing?'

'It is a surprise,' said Sophie, embracing him. 'You will like it.'

'I'm sure I will,' he said, wondering why he'd wasted time talking with Draco instead of coming straight home. 'How was your day?'

'I spent half the day on the terrace with your birds, since that is the only place my portable works,' she said, indicating her mobile phone. 'My agent keeps calling me, I have many jobs now.'

'How soon?' he asked, trying to hide his disappointment.

'She does not know yet. But there is a wizarding magazine in Los Angeles that wants me on their cover, and Virginia wants me to come to New York to be photographed with the other model, Marina. It is to promote the lingerie in America, and maybe elsewhere. And I may go to Japan as well.'

'Japan! Are they selling the lingerie there too?'

'Virginia does not know yet, but perhaps. Things change very quickly in wizarding fashion, more than in the Muggle world.'

'Do you think you'll be here for the party?'

'I hope so, but I cannot promise.'

Widening his eyes, he said, 'Then who will do my makeup?' He batted his eyelashes for added effect.

'You are already too séduisant, but I teach Lodie.'

'That's not what you were doing just now, was it?'

'No, my surprise is for tonight, when we go to the vampire bar. It is my chance to shock the English.'

'That's what I was hoping you'd say. Although you'll have trouble shocking anyone there.'

'It is not just my outfit, mon cher. I have you to dress as well.'

Harry backed away. 'Oh no you don't. One scandal a week is plenty.'

'Your party scandal? That was last week, no?'

'I haven't explained it yet on the radio, so that makes it part of this week.'

'But you will have your David Bowie dress and eye makeup to explain next week. Better to have a new scandal now, particularly since I will be on the radio with you.'

He moved closer again. 'So you'll do it? You'll go on the air?'

'Ben oui. It is the least I can do after the outfit I prepare for you.' Harry paled, and she laughed. 'I am joking—it is not so bad. And you will love what I wear. I bought the pieces in Camden Town this afternoon, and Lodie and I put it together.'

'Will it come off easily?' he murmured, and she smiled wickedly and shook her head.

'No, it is very complicated. Normally I would not wear something with so many buttons, but I had to have it.'

Hermione joined them for dinner, and Harry was pleased by how well she and Sophie got on. He loved listening to them speak French, although it was clear they were primarily talking about him.

'Do I even want to know?' he asked, after Hermione burst into laughter at something Sophie said.

'You'll find out soon enough. And I insist on seeing what you wear to Penumbra tonight. In fact, I'm tempted to go there myself, but that would ruin the effect.'

'Oh dear. Are you sure I'll agree to this?'

'Yes, because you're addicted to scandal,' said Hermione. 'Sophie, he wasn't like this before.'

'I know that, but I cannot picture it. The Harry I know is afraid of nothing and lives very much in the present.'

'In a sense that's always been true,' said Hermione. 'But he's much less tormented now than he used to be, and he's no longer thinking about Dark wizards all the time. Harry, thank heaven you quit the Ministry—I can't believe we thought it was a good idea for you to become an Auror.'

'It was the only future I could imagine,' he said. 'Do you really think I could have pictured this one?'

Sophie chuckled softly, but Hermione laughed out loud. 'What if you'd suggested it to Minerva, during fifth year when we had those Careers Advice sessions?'

'I think you're forgetting Umbridge was there too. If only I'd known what the future held!'

Hermione sat up straight, with a stern look on her face. 'Potter, have you given any thought to what you'd like to do after leaving Hogwarts?' she said, in something resembling a Scottish accent.

'Er, I can't decide between league Quidditch and underwear modelling. What do you think, Professor?"'

'Hem, hem,' coughed Hermione, imitating Umbridge. 'That doesn't sound very realistic for someone who's been banned from Quidditch for life. And you're awfully skinny.'

'Right, scratch that,' said Harry. 'Maybe I could go on the radio instead.'

'They don't put liars on the radio, Mr Potter.'

'Yeah, that's a good point,' he said. 'How about the Wizengamot?'

'Last time I checked, the Potters didn't have a seat on the Wizengamot,' said Hermione/Umbridge. 'And I don't see you getting a Ministry appointment.'

'You're right, I wouldn't. What about the Light Arts?'

'The Light Arts are a myth!' cried Hermione. 'Minerva, I demand you punish Mr Potter for spreading such a dangerous fiction!'

'Er, then what does that leave me with?' asked Harry, knowing better than to bring up the condom scheme.

'Flobberworm husbandry,' declared Hermione. 'Professor Grubbly-Plank needs an assistant, and I think that's a perfect match for your intellect. And something tells me you'll be a natural at breeding.'

'Oi!' cried Harry.

'Sorry, I couldn't resist. Sophie, I hope you weren't too lost.'

'Was this one of your horrible professors?' she asked.

'It was,' said Harry. 'And I can't believe we're laughing about her, but that just proves how much things change.'

They finished eating, and Harry introduced Sophie to Davina when she arrived. 'Light magic was not well known in France, but now everyone talks about it,' said Sophie. 'Annette Saint-Clair, a famous singer, announced that she too experiences Light magic. She does not glow like Harry—she floats in the air, often when she sings.'

'Why couldn't I have had that type of Light magic?' said Harry. 'That would have been much easier to hide, especially while flying.'

Hermione shook her head. 'I don't think it's a coincidence you got the version that's impossible to hide.'

'Nor do I,' said Davina. 'Public attention is clearly an important part of your journey as a Light wizard.'

Harry frowned. 'What do you mean exactly? I used to hate attention, but lately I've realised I crave it, and I find I'm seeking it out more and more.'

'That's good—it means you're finally getting attention on your own terms.'

'Maybe,' said Harry uncertainly. 'But I don't want to get hooked and then be disappointed if I don't get it anymore.'

'Certainly not,' said Davina. 'That would be a disaster, and it's yet another pitfall of Light magic. Charisma is a common side effect, and I've met several teachers who take an unhealthy pleasure in having a large following.'

Harry was reluctant to ask the next question, for fear of being told to change his behaviour. 'What should I do, then? When I tried avoiding attention, it never worked.'

'No, the only way out is through. Your job now is to enjoy it, but also to maintain a healthy distance from it.'

Bewildered, he glanced at Sophie, who looked equally lost. 'Sophie and I are going out later tonight, and we'll almost certainly attract attention. How do we "maintain a healthy distance?"'

'It all boils down to a word you used earlier,' said Davina. 'You said you crave attention, and that's where the problem lies. You need to recognise that craving, because by definition it'll never be satisfied. So when you're out tonight, and you feel the pleasure of attracting attention, try to identify the part of you that grabs at it greedily. It might be hard to distinguish at first, because you'll mostly feel pleasure. But there's a nasty little core that doesn't actually enjoy it, because it's too busy wanting more.'

Sophie looked at Harry and said, 'Tonight will be a good test. And I will leave now—it is a pleasure to meet you, Davina.'

She went upstairs, and the Light magic lesson began in earnest. Davina allowed Harry and Hermione to purify another Dark Arts text, which was exhilarating. Their Light magic resonated again, and Hermione uncharmed her hair so Davina could see the full effect.

'I'm very pleased with your progress, both of you,' she said, Hermione beamed. She's always loved praise from teachers, thought Harry fondly.

After their lesson, Hermione stayed to see Sophie's outfit. 'It'll be perfect for your assignment tonight,' she said as they walked upstairs.

'You're making me nervous. Just how attention-getting is it? Gossip column, or front page?'

Hermione thought for a moment. 'Honestly, it could go either way. But it'll definitely liven up your broadcast tomorrow.'

Harry knocked on his bedroom door. 'Sophie, I'm here with Hermione. Can we come in?'

'Oui, entrez,' she said, and he took a deep breath before entering.

His jaw dropped when he saw her. 'Oh my god. That can't possibly be a wedding dress. Or is it?'

'It is not a traditional wedding dress,' she said, clearly thrilled by his reaction. 'Yes, it is white, but it is too much what a demimondaine would wear.'

Sophie wore a strapless white dress with black lace accents, including strings of shining black beads that met in the centre of the bodice and draped over her bare upper arms. The dress hugged her delicate curves, and the white satin skirt opened into panels of flowing black lace. She wore white gloves to her elbows, and the only splash of colour was her wine-red lips.

Hermione stared in awe. 'Sophie, that is absolutely gorgeous. Did you design it yourself?'

'I bought the bodice and skirt, which were all white, and with Lodie's help I added the lace and beads. And she helped me close all the buttons,' said Sophie, turning around.

'It's a good thing you weren't wearing this last night,' said Harry. 'I'd have just Vanished it instead of fumbling with all those buttons. But Sophie, ma chère, you look beautiful. I love it.'

'Thank you—I am glad you like it. But now you must see what I choose for you.' She opened his wardrobe and revealed formal black robes Lydia had helped him pick, only with a silver waistcoat whose black pattern matched the lace on her dress. 'You will wear this too,' she said, holding a red rose that matched her lips.

'C'est magnifique,' said Hermione. 'I'm tempted to owl the Prophet myself—the world needs to see this.'

Harry had entered the wardrobe to change. 'Don't bother,' he said. 'My teammate Darren already warned them.'

'Good. And now that I've seen it: front page, definitely. Sophie, you're a genius. It's shockingly bridal, but of course everyone knows he won't marry before he's twenty-one.'

'Yes, otherwise I would not do it,' said Sophie. 'But what is more unexpected than a roué dressed for his wedding?'

'At Penumbra,' said Harry through the wardrobe door. 'Although I'd have thought you'd wear black.'

'No, I am not a vampire—let them wear black. And you too, mon joli Anglais.'

'She has a point,' said Hermione. 'By some definitions you're undead.'

'I am not undead!' protested Harry, emerging from the wardrobe. He slid the rose into his lapel, and Hermione sighed in admiration.

'I wish I could persuade Ryan to dress like that, but his tastes are far too Muggle. And unlike you, he doesn't want attention.'

'Not true,' said Harry. 'He doesn't want attention for himself, but I'm sure he'd love to see you turn heads.'

'Oh dear, you're right. He'll probably take one look at tomorrow's Prophet and ask if I can borrow Sophie's dress. Though he mightn't let me out of the flat.'

Harry paused to admire Sophie again. 'I should really let you wear the tiara I brought home from Gringotts. But it mightn't go with those black beads, and Gemma would kill me.'

'I have to see it,' said Hermione. 'Just for a moment, and then I'll leave.'

He produced the tiara, and Sophie put it on in front of the mirror. 'No, it does not go,' she said.

'You're probably right, but sweet Merlin, you're beautiful in it. Let's at least show Banthora—I'm sure she'll agree.'

They went down to the dining room, and Banthora was thrilled. 'My dear, you look lovely. Your outfit is a perfect scandal, of course, and so is Harry's. But he's head of House Black, and we've always been notorious for one thing or another.'

Hermione left, and Sophie removed the tiara and tidied her hair. Taking her gloved hand, Harry said, 'You can't possibly travel by Floo in that dress, and we'd cause several heart attacks if we turned up at the Leaky Cauldron like this.'

'No, we save the surprise for Penumbra,' she said. 'On y va?'

He turned on his heel, and they arrived in front of Flourish and Blotts. The street was nearly empty, and the lone pedestrian stared at them in disbelief. 'Where are you going?' she blurted. 'And who is she?'

'This is Sophie, who I met in Paris back in August. And we're going to Penumbra.'

'Oh, the model! No wonder! I only wish I had a camera,' she said. 'But no matter, I'm sure you'll be in tomorrow's Prophet. Ta-ta!'

Sophie giggled, and Harry led her down the passage to Penumbra. Several photographers awaited them, and Sophie gave an impromptu fashion show before they entered.

Harry had never seen it so crowded—he supposed word had got out that they were coming. Fortunately, everyone else was dressed to the nines, which meant Sophie didn't look out of place. But everyone stared at her anyway, and Harry basked in her reflected glory.

The hostess was cold as always. 'Alistair is expecting you, but he's running late and there aren't any tables. So you'll have to wait in the arena.'

'That's fine,' said Harry, knowing it would be an opportunity to follow Davina's instructions and notice how he craved attention. Still holding Sophie's hand, he led her to the comparatively well-lit arena, and the crowd parted to give them access to the bar. Harry ordered two cocktails, and he spoke in Sophie's ear while they waited.

'I imagine you're used to this kind of attention, but how are you doing?' he asked.

'No, I never experience this before. When I go out in France, I am never the only woman people look at. But I am in London with Harry Potter, and it is ... very powerful.'

They were interrupted by a familiar-looking wizard. 'I must say, you really don't disappoint.'

'I'm sorry?' said Harry. 'I know I've met you but I can't remember where.'

'It was right here, with someone I'm sure you do remember.'

Realisation dawned. 'You're Vera's friend! What was your name again?'

'Jack. Jack Parrish. And who is this exquisite creature?'

'Sophie Tavernier,' said Harry. 'She's visiting from Paris.'

'Of course, the French model,' he said, kissing her gloved hand. 'Potter, you're more fabulous every time I see you. Which I suppose is only twice now, but I'd love to try for a third. Have you heard from Vera yet?'

'Er, no,' said Harry, knowing where this was going. 'Did she owl me?'

'Yes, in care of the Chudley Cannons. But perhaps it got lost with the rest of your post. Because I'm sure everyone in Britain is asking for an invitation to your party.'

Harry wasn't sure how to react. 'I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, but you have to admit, she's got some colossal cheek, asking for an invitation after what she did.'

'Do you mean how she established your reputation as a sex god? Really, Potter, you should thank her—there's a reason everyone thought you leaked the story yourself.'

Sophie frowned. 'This Vera, she is the one who sold the story about you to that magazine? And she wants to come to your party?'

'So it seems,' said Harry. 'What do you think?'

'Jack is right. In France they like you much better since that article—they say you are not a typical Englishman. It is probably the same in other countries too,' she said, with a meaningful look.

Bugger, she's right, thought Harry. If it weren't for Sorceress, I mightn't have been offered the modelling job.

'I can see you're wavering,' said Jack, 'so I'm going to sweeten the deal. Invite Vera and four of her dearest male friends, myself included. In return, we four will throw ourselves body and soul into the dress code, thereby widening the spectrum of debauchery and making you look positively restrained by comparison. Assuming you're aiming for a glam-rock look, and not full-on drag queen.'

'What makes you think that?' asked Harry innocently.

'Because that's what I'd do if I were you, and we both have impeccable taste. Speaking of which ... Sophie, your dress is divine. Whose idea was it to come to Penumbra dressed for your wedding?'

'It was hers,' said Harry. 'And she designed the dress herself.'

'Beauty and talent!' exclaimed Jack. 'Please tell me you'll be at the party too.'

'I don't know yet,' she said. 'It depends on whether I have to travel for work.'

'I do hope you'll stay, since you'll make a heartbreakingly joli garçon. Although I'd love to see the Light Lord on the pull again—it was like watching a master class.' Jack turned to Harry and said, 'So, have I convinced you?'

'Fine, why not. If I can invite Draco Malfoy and Rita Skeeter, I can't say no to you and Vera. But your outfit had better be good.'

'Trust me, it will be,' said Jack, and he jotted down the names for Harry to add to the Floo wards. 'And now I should give someone else the chance to talk to you, but be prepared for the same request.'

Jack left, and Harry was tempted to start snogging Sophie to keep people from approaching. But a waitress found them and said, 'Alistair is ready to see you.'

She led them to a corner table. Like all tables at Penumbra, it was charmed to blur the faces of those seated until you were close enough to sit down. Alistair rose when they arrived, and so did the two thralls by his side. 'You may go,' he told them. 'I wish to speak with Harry and Sophie alone.'

The thralls gazed longingly at Alistair as they walked away, never glancing at Harry or Sophie. 'I'm sorry to keep you waiting,' he said. 'My prior appointment was more complicated than I anticipated. But something tells me you were glad to visit the arena, at least briefly.'

Harry introduced Sophie to Alistair, who spoke to her in what sounded like perfect French. After a minute they switched to English, and Sophie apologised. 'Forgive us, mon cher, but we needed to talk about you. We are in agreement that you are ... comment dire en anglais?' she asked Alistair.

'Preternaturally fascinating,' said the vampire. 'And I commend you, mademoiselle, on your splendid outfit. I've owned Penumbra for more than forty years, and I've seen every possible black dress. But to show up on the arm of Harry Potter-Black in a sort of wedding gown ... marvellous.'

Their conversation drifted to the party, and Harry said, 'I'm glad you'll be there. And please forgive me for not knowing how to reply to your offer. I know favours are valuable currency, and I don't want to put you in a bad position.'

'You're right, and I wouldn't offer one lightly. But perhaps it will help if I explain what a favour means to an immortal.'

'Please do.'

'As you know, I was born a wizard, and by rights I should have died centuries ago. But soul magic keeps me alive, similar in some ways to Voldemort's erstwhile immortality. The primary difference is my reliance on humans, specifically your blood.'

Harry thought for a moment. 'Is that why Voldemort didn't try to become a vampire?'

'Yes, I think so. I have no doubt that as a student he read everything he could about vampires, since ours is the most obvious path to immortality. But we're terribly dependent on humans, not only for blood but to keep us safe when we sleep. A sufficiently charismatic vampire needn't worry, since we automatically keep our thralls in check, even while unconscious. And Voldemort would surely have had that ability—he was every bit your equal where charisma is concerned. But it still requires trust, and he was completely unlike you in that regard.'

'And so he chose another path?' said Harry.

'Yes, and you know the result: A shattered soul.'

Harry nodded, remembering the miserable remnant he saw during his vision of King's Cross Station. 'But your soul is intact,' he said.

'Yes,' said Alistair. 'And that makes me unusual amongst vampires, most of whom don't realise until too late how fragile a soul really is.'

'But Davina said souls can be repaired, unless you do what Voldemort did.'

'Human souls can be repaired. But a vampire's body is almost nothing like a human body, and our souls are much more easily torn apart.'

'So why are you different?' asked Harry.

'I had the good fortune to study Light magic before I was turned. Which meant I knew the true meaning of integrity. People think it refers to honesty and strong moral principles, which is true. But the deeper meaning is a state of wholeness. I was already practising this as a young wizard, which prepared me for the moral upheaval of becoming a vampire.'

'Did you choose to become a vampire?' asked Sophie.

'No, but I took to it readily. When I awoke in my transformed body, I drank blood eagerly and without revulsion. I killed for nourishment, as thoughtlessly as you probably ate dinner tonight. But I couldn't tell a lie.'

Harry recalled what Darren had once said, about how Alistair could be as savage as any other vampire. 'And that kept you whole, even though you were killing people?'

'Yes. Killing is a vampire's nature, same as a wild animal. But wild animals don't lie.'

'Do you still kill people?' asked Harry, glancing at the two thralls, who remained within sight.

'No. I'll fight another vampire, but I won't murder a human. It is not necessary, and I find I prefer to know my quarry, and even to love them. But we've drifted from my original point, about integrity and why favours are so valuable amongst immortals.' Looking at Sophie, he said, 'Can you guess?'

She took a breath before answering, and Harry watched her chest rise and fall, in stark contrast to Alistair's. 'Because when you offer a favour, you make a promise you cannot break without hurting your soul.'

'Exactly. If a human breaks their word, their soul can recover. But a vampire's cannot. Many vampires squander their sanity this way, and they die within decades. But those of us who have survived for centuries, we know better.'

Furrowing his brow, Harry said, 'Then why did you offer me a favour? You could have just asked to come to the party and I'd have said yes.'

'I know that. But now we are linked, or we will be if you accept my offer. My Light magic, such as it is within this vampire's body, draws me to humans. This is why I interact with humans more than most vampires do, and why I own a bar. Do you really think I need the gold?'

'I suppose not,' said Harry. 'And I understand your desire for connection. But will I be in danger?'

'Good question, and no. The danger is entirely to me, should I refuse to honour your request.'

'I'm not sure how I feel about that. I don't want to ask for something you're unwilling to do.'

'That is the risk I take,' said Alistair. 'But this you understand, with your own desire for closeness.'

Harry nodded, recalling Ekantika Singh. 'Will you feel my Light magic?'

'Yes. I feel it now, as we speak. But a true link will be more powerful.'

Waves of energy rose through Harry's body, and Alistair shuddered. 'How do I accept your offer?' asked Harry.

'Just say you accept my favour, to be repaid at a later date.'

Harry spoke the words, and Alistair let out a low moan. 'Your mother's protection—I can feel it. With Voldemort gone it's only an echo, but I see now why you remained sane.'

Awash in new perceptions, Harry said, 'What is this? Is it coming from you?'

'Yes, but only because I allow it.'

'What do you feel?' asked Sophie, taking his hand.

'Time. And how momentary I am. My life is really the blink of an eye, isn't it?'

'It is,' said Alistair. 'But you feel eternity as well, no?'

'Yes.' Harry turned to look at Sophie, taking in her beauty and knowing how ephemeral it was. Every cell in their bodies, every molecule in the room, was changing before his eyes. How did I never notice it? he thought. It's nothing but shifting sand.

'That is enough,' said Alistair. 'You will realise it on your own in due time.'

Harry's perceptions returned to normal, and Sophie and everything else looked solid again. 'Why didn't I feel afraid?' he asked.

'Because you were anchored in eternity. Nothing can touch you there. And it is our natural state.'

'Thank you,' said Harry, and he squeezed Sophie's hand, grateful for human contact. Suspecting Alistair felt the same, he said, 'Do you want to invite your thralls back?'

'Yes. I believe our business is concluded. And also unfinished, by design.'

'Then I'll see you on Saturday,' said Harry, rising. 'I'm very glad to know you, Alistair.'

Sophie said goodbye in French, and they walked away from the table. 'What should we do now?' she asked.

'That's up to you,' said Harry. 'Do you want to go home, or should we practise dealing with attention?'

She glanced towards the arena and saw that nearly everyone was looking at them. 'It is strange, but I feel a little bit timid. It is different with Muggles, but here everyone knows you. And they look at me and wonder if we are in love.'

'What do you think?' he asked.

'I think no. But I could be persuaded.'

'Persuaded to stay in England?'

She made a face, and Harry laughed. 'Persuaded to fall in love with you,' she said. 'But I know you fall in love easily, and I wonder if you fall out of love as well.'

'That's just it—I don't know. I'm starting to realise that what I think of as love might actually be dependency.'

'Yes, I can see that. You are a man, but also a hungry little boy.'

He ran his hand along the smooth bodice of her dress. 'Very hungry,' he murmured. 'And it's not that late yet.'

'My buttons, they will take a long time. Perhaps we need to start now.' She looked again at the arena and said, 'Unless you want to practise dealing with attention.'

'No, I only want your attention right now. But I need to practise not falling in love, at least not straight away. Is that all right?'

She leaned forwards and kissed him gently. 'Yes, mon joli Anglais.'

Harry took her hand and led her to the exit, where more reporters had gathered. After being photographed from every angle, Sophie answered their questions, which mostly revolved around her dress and why she was in England. Harry dodged questions about the party, which he said he'd address on the radio, and he Apparated them home.

'So, this is a night with Harry Potter,' she said. 'Is it always like this when you go out?'

'I'm not usually dressed for my wedding, but yeah, pretty much.'

'It was amusing. I don't know if I'd like it all the time, but for the moment it is good.'

They went upstairs, and he was delighted to discover that her undergarments matched the dress, minus the beads. They proceeded more slowly than the night before, and afterwards—from a state of broad awareness—he noticed his near-compulsion to fall in love.

'You are looking at me with big eyes,' she said accusingly.

'So I am. What's your point?'

'I do not want to trap you. All England will hate me if I steal Harry Potter when he is vulnerable. If I win you, it must happen slowly.'

'They won't hate you,' he said. 'But you're right—we mustn't rush. I can always fall in love with you tomorrow.'

Before losing consciousness, Harry's last thoughts were of Draco, proclaiming his love for Catherine at Gringotts that afternoon. Who am I to judge? he thought fondly, falling asleep.