Chapter 9

Harry rubbed his neck to relieve some of the tension. Fucking long day and it was just starting. Harry breathed deeply to calm his mind and put his feelings on the back burner. Game time, Potter. The last three years had dulled his edges but he was still Harry Fucking Potter and this lunch will go without a hitch or so Merlin help him.

Harry sat near the only door at the left side of the table and pretended he couldn't see Riddle signal him to sit near him and the Death Eaters' furious gaze. It left him in the center of a group of strangers but when the options were to the left of the Overlord in the worst strategist seat or the center of a group of Death Eaters...well, not a hard choice.

His seatmates were not at all pleased with his intrusion and Harry sheepishly asked for forgiveness for imposing on the group and explained that he was an assistant that was going to be entering and exiting a lot. After his explanation, the air notably relaxed, and introductions were made followed by the normal get-to-know questions. As often as possible Harry turned the conversation to his seatmates, but it was inevitable that he had to answer probing questions and his seatmates were very interested in his Master's degree and the question he had been dreading... his thesis.

He tried to be vague about it because people tended to have strong opinions about Atlantis and it was tiring to field them but the group was relentless and Harry gave in to the inevitable. Then he found out that their enthusiasm for details was because the woman in front of him had a Doctorate in Magical Lost Cities.

Harry got...distracted. Mrs. Ito was a certified genius and was raking him over the coals in the nicest, most respectful way possible that still left him with a road rash. And Harry was living for it. So much so that it was the sound of insisting texts that finally dragged him out of the conversation.

The first message of BOMB Alert! certainly got his attention.

"Excuse me, duty calls," Harry excused himself immediately, already speed calling Martinez. "What do you mean we have no bomb expert?" Harry hissed when he was out of the room. "What about Johnson?" Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "What do you mean Johnson works at the Quidditch store?" Harry hissed. "Martinez, I haven't touched a fucking bomb in ten fucking years, and let me tell you it's not a fucking bicycle. Fine. I'm on my fucking way." At least Harry had the satisfaction of aggressively pushing the button to hang up.

Harry speed walked to the location, leaving the restaurant and going to the outer wall of the private room. Aurors and security were buzzing in the area but no one had dared approach the bomb yet. The lead Auror was screaming at the phone, presumably at Martinez, and in very explicit terms letting him know what a bad idea was to let the assistant, a former communications intern with no formal training, diffuse the bomb. Harry nodded along with her. Fucking bad idea. But he was reluctantly allowed to get close.

When he saw the bomb he sighed in relief. "Thank fucking god." In his panic, he had forgotten they were in the past and the technology and magic were decades behind what he was used to. In less than a minute he had it under control. He called Martinez and told him where he could stuff a bomb next time.

He sat on his chair and proceeded to act as if he hadn't been seriously worried they were about to be blown up. Mrs. Ito welcomed him with a smile and pulled him into the conversation. She was interested in the recent Demon activity they had had and the discussion delved into demonology and theories about their origin. Harry was more than happy to listen and be wowed by her but this time he didn't forget his phone. When the message popped up from Pike to close and ward the door he saw it immediately. He quickly took out his pen and scratched a rune into his napkin. Not knowing how much time he had left, he discreetly threw the napkin to the door. Mrs. Ito gave him a long look.

"What type of assistant did you say you were?" she asked.

"I'm Mr. Riddle's assistant. My duties vary by day. Whatever he needs of me," he hedged. The napkin glowed for a few seconds meaning someone was trying to forcibly enter. After a few agonizing long seconds where he did not know if the rune would hold, the glowing stopped. Two eternal minutes later another message entered from the team leader, safe. Harry got up and picked up his napkin from the floor.

"Can I see that?" Mrs. Ito asked. Seeing no way to politely refuse Harry handed it over.

"Interesting design. Yours I assume?"

Harry's face spasmed as he yet again remembered that Johnson, the literal brains behind his brawn, the reason his half-baked plans worked, was not part of the force. He felt a stab of sympathy for Pike and Martinez. The force must be crippled without Johnson. No wonder Martinez was so desperate to have him back.

"A friend's," Harry responded. He got the feeling she didn't believe him and probed him. Without too much problem she managed to have him spilling his guts on his latest project. Harry had a moment of sanity as he was handing her a borrowed napkin with his as of yet unfinished "undo" ritual that this woman had him eating out the palm of her perfectly manicured hand and... he was fine with it.

He had to explain why he was sure the adaptive magic would work and was gently strong-armed to show her his former office with the hopefully still-working (he hadn't checked recently; it might have gained sentience and be trying to learn the cello for all he knew) adaptive spell. She asked for his pen and changed a few details before effortlessly adding a layer to the complex ritual.

Harry ooh'ed and ahh'ed as she explained her logic, completely absorbed with her as he tried to eat his lunch with his jaw still on the floor. As dessert arrived, a man two sits to his right addressed him for the first time, "You seem to be very knowledgeable in cutting edge magic, Mr. Potter. Do you know anything that could help particular diseases?"

Harry frowned. "Like what?"

"Cystic fibrosis for example." Conversation stopped on their side of the table as everyone turned to look at Harry. Harry's fork stopped mid-way to his mouth as he turned to look at the man. "Cystic fibrosis?" Harry confirmed if only to stall. He knew...but the year was 2007; it was decades before the spell had been invented after years of research and he couldn't be sure he remembered all the steps of the complex multi-layered spell.

Something in his face must have betrayed him. "You know," the woman accused quietly. The atmosphere turned chilly again. Harry hadn't noticed how relaxed everyone was until they weren't. Harry sighed and called himself an idiot in every language he knew (not many so the rant was over as soon as it started).

"A coffee please," he asked of a waiter. "Pass me the pen," he asked her. "I can't promise a lot, but I'll try." He played with the pen as he tried to remember the steps. It had been front-page news in every paper for weeks as the discovery of the decade. He had seen it multiple times. Hermione had excitedly explained it ad nauseam. But did he remember? He wracked his brain and bit the end of the pen.

He started writing and sipping on his coffee when it arrived. Mrs. Ito watched the napkin with hawk-like intensity. After a minute he stopped because he couldn't remember the next part. She immediately suggested what could follow it. Harry was beyond impressed that she could divine it just from having the beginning.

Geniuses were going to genius, Harry supposed. It's not like his common ass brain would know. Harry nodded and added it. Her suggestion jogged more memories and he quickly wrote them before he forgot them but then...nothing. He didn't remember the last part. He drummed the pen against the table as he thought. "You got anything?" he asked Mrs. Ito.

She looked close to tears. The most emotion Harry had seen of her. "No...no, I don't know how to finish it. But it's something. It's close." And more quietly, "So close."

"Let me ask a friend." Harry took a photo with his phone and sent it to Pike and Martinez asking for the last part.

After less than a minute Martinez responded with a "you are a fucking fool, Potter" in all caps and the end of the spell. "My friend was nice enough to help," Harry said as he carefully added the end of the spell. She carefully picked the napkin and watched it with a fierce look before deliberately folding it and putting it in her purse.

"I wish to meet this friend of yours, Harry. You have both done me a great service." It was the first time she referred to him by his name.

Harry rubbed his neck, deeply uncomfortable with stealing someone's life-work and taking credit for it. "Don't mention it. It's not my work. I saw it somewhere and remembered."

From her face, he could tell that she did not believe him at all and this time was not even trying to hide it.

"How could I ever repay you?" she insisted.

"Seriously, don't mention it."

"Ah. I see."

Harry didn't know what she saw but hopefully, his undeserving face and name wouldn't be on tomorrow's front page. She took the napkin that had his "undo" ritual and also put it in her purse. "I'll work on this for you. I have a few...associates...that owe me some favors."

Harry was speechless. "That would be great, Mrs. Ito." "Call me Asami."

"But you don't have to. The help you have given me already has been invaluable."

"I insist."

Harry had nothing to say to that so he just accepted it. The lunch was finally over and Harry was free to get up along with everyone. Mrs. Ito asked him to escort her as they changed rooms to a more "informal" setting i.e. the same but standing and with free-flowing alcohol. Harry left Mrs. Ito with her group and made a beeline for the bar where Pike was expertly serving as a bartender along with five others. He was stopped on his way by Snape holding him by the elbow.

"You have disgraced us all with your shenanigans, Potter," the man hissed with fury. "Sitting with the Japanese entourage, boring them with your drivel, and writing on napkins like a barbarian. This might cost us months of work. I knew you couldn't be trusted to behave in a simple lunch."

Harry wanted to have a good relationship with the man. He really, really did. But it was easier to respect Severus Snape when the man was dead and Harry could selectively remember the parts of the man he liked. Harry breathed deeply, pushed the hand that was holding him, and walked away without a word.

"Was that Japan's Sorcerer Supreme you were chatting with?" Pike asked him when he sat at a booth in the bar.

"Who?"

"The drop-dead gorgeous bombshell that looks like she could stab you with her stiletto and gut you with her nails...yeah, Sorcerer Supreme. Once turned to dust an assistant that was bothering her. Or so the rumors say. What was she like?"

"Genius. Charming. Captivating."

"Genius like Hermione?" Pike asked as he passed him a generous portion of whiskey.

"No. As much as I love her, Hermione seems positively pedestrian in comparison." Harry smelled the whiskey and groaned. It smelled delicious. "I can't drink this. I'm standing only by the glory of coffee." He sadly pushed it away.

"Go to your boss. Someone unauthorized just gave him a champagne flute." Harry made a distressed sound at having to leave the comfort of the bar but stood up and went to his boss. He plucked the flute out of Riddle's fingers and passed him his whiskey without comment. Riddle only paused for a second in the conversation before smoothly continuing as if nothing had happened.

"Harry darling, there you are. I was just telling Akihito how impressed I was by you." Harry had a minor heart attack. Mrs. Ito was talking to the literal Emperor of Japan about him. And he wasn't even the boy-who-lived.

"Yes," the man to the right of the Emperor drawled. "You diffused a bomb, proved that Adaptive Magic was not only possible but currently in use, and casually provided a cure for a life-threatening disease by writing it in a napkin. Did I get all that right?"

"Also knows the location of Atlantis," Mrs. Ito supplied.

"Not to insult the Sorceress Supreme but it's a bit hard to believe, you understand? And a little ham-handed of you, Mr. Riddle. You are usually a bit more subtle on your machinations."

Harry cleared his throat. "To clarify, the cure was not my work."

"Harry, darling, I'd love to give credit to the creator. Tell me, if I were to announce a twenty million galleon price for whoever cures cystic fibrosis someone other than you and your friend would be able to provide me with a cure by the end of the month?"

Harry stayed quiet as everyone looked at him.

"How about forty million, hmm?" she pressed. "Fifty?"

Harry kept his sullen silence. Mrs. Ito had backed him into a corner and while he didn't want to take credit there was literally no one except him and Martinez that could provide the answer. In a few decades sure... but not today.

"Thought so, my dear. But don't worry, we will respect your desire for anonymity if that is what you wish."

"I'll leave you to your conversation," Harry excused himself wanting nothing more than to go back to the safety of the bar. He didn't even dare to look at Riddle. He was sure he wouldn't be in this position if he had sat beside the man like a good little follower.

"I think I fucked up," he told Pike the minute the man was free and able to chat at his side of the bar.

"That's...I was going to say unlike you but thought better of it. That's unfortunate. Why you think that?"

Harry sighed. "I don't even want to talk about it. I'm just...not a politician. How long is this thing going to last?" Harry asked, checking his wristwatch to see it was only two pm.

Pike looked at the wall clock above the bar, "The restaurant is reserved until five but it will likely fizzle out before that." Harry and Pike kept a casual conversation about the concert Pike was trying to convince him to go to. Pike talked as he cleaned the cups (testing for poison residues) and Harry watched the crowd for any signs of trouble. He kept in communication with the team leader about what was happening.

"We have to go to the concert, Potter," Pike was harping on him, not taking no for an answer. "It's their last one and I'm not missing the chance to see my favorite band live."

"Fine, fine," Harry relented as he texted back with an update on the suspicious activity. False alarm. "Buy the damn tickets. I'll...I don't know, build a time-turner to create more hours in the day," Harry snarked without heat.

"If going to a concert causes you to fail the semester you were already going to fail the semester."

Harry took his eyes off the phone to glare at Pike.

"Is this your friend, Harry?" Mrs. Ito asked as she approached them.

Harry immediately left his chair at the bar and offered it to Mrs. Ito. She sat like a queen and looked at him expectantly. "This is one of my friends, Picardos Abram, Auror and Poison Specialist. Pike this is Sorceress Supreme Asami Ito."

"It's a pleasure," Pike said from behind the bar, "Call me Pike."

"Asami, please," To Harry she said with a mischievous smile, "So you do know my title."

Harry winced and Pike snorted. "I was made aware a few minutes ago. I'm sorry for any unintentional disrespect."

"Nonsense darling. You have been a ray of light on this otherwise dreary affair."

Harry smiled at her. Happy to have made her happy. Pike served her a drink.

"You were sitting close together?" Pike asked with surprise. Pike had probably studied the seating arrangements as part of his preparation for the assignment. Harry should not have been close enough to talk.

Harry felt his face scrunch in distaste. "Our group was sitting too far away from the door," Harry complained. "Snape has already informed me and I quote I have disgraced them with my shenanigans and can't be trusted to behave in a simple lunch," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. Mrs. Ito watched his face with silent intensity.

"Aren't you worried about what Riddle is going to say?" Pike asked.

"Yeah, kinda worried about losing my job so soon," Harry sighed and made an oh well gesture. "To be honest, it is way more time-consuming than I would have liked."

"You are telling me Ex-Minister of Magic Riddle didn't sit you in front of me on purpose?" with a tone of voice that indicated how unlikely that was.

Harry snorted. "I wasn't even invited. The only reason I came was that Lucius Malfoy's son got sick this morning and they suddenly had an empty seat."

"And what else?" Pike asked. "What? Don't look at me that way. I know you hate lunch meetings."

"I demanded an outrageous amount of overtime pay," Harry said with a smile. "I was kind of hoping they would say no but alas they said yes and here I am because the lawyer I need is going to be expensive."

"Why do you need a lawyer, Harry?" Mrs. Ito inquired.

"For Atlantis expedition. It's in a finders keepers area under Magical law but I still need contracts with everyone in the group so that everyone is clear of what they are or are not gaining and absolve me of guilt if they die. That sort of thing."

"Harry, what does a Sorcerer Supreme have to do to be part of that expedition?"

Harry gaped. He felt like a fool. She had a doctorate in Lost Cities, obviously she wanted to go. It just never occurred to him. Because he was an idiot. Clearly. "Nothing," he said as quickly as his brain cells reorganized. "I would be honored to have you there and your input would be invaluable. I'll mail you the details when everything is confirmed. Are you reachable by owl?"

"You are such a dear, Harry," she said with what Harry could almost call fondness. "I'm not reachable by owl but I'll give you my assistant's name and she will make sure I get all of your mail."

She wrote him the information and turned to Pike, "Tell me about yourself...Pike." Pike needed no other invitation and without reserves started talking about everything remotely interesting in his life.

Harry reclined against the bar with his legs crossed as he observed the party. He snorted in amusement at Pike's joke while he texted about a possible assassination attempt on the Australian Prime Minister. Mrs. Ito made no secret of looking over his shoulder at what he was texting and looking over to the Australian Prime Minister to see what was happening. One of the Aurors close by quietly took the suspect for questioning.

"Tell me, do you have any interesting stories about Harry?"

Pike laughed with a decidedly evil edge. Harry gave him a warning glare. "No, no. None of that Harry, darling," she chided with good humor. "Let the man speak."

"Ok, ok. Let me think. Something innocent that won't cause Potter to murder me... ok, I got it! So this one time while on vacation Potter purposely let us get kidnapped because he found our abductor sexy and wanted to get her number."

"It was by Arpa Adulyadej," Harry stressed the name as if it explained everything. "Thailand's longest-reigning Dark Lady, it was almost an honor to be abducted. We got to see her house and basement. Impressive falls short. To be honest, it was the best part of our vacation."

"Potter dated her even when she tried to trap us in the house and when that failed, burn our migration papers."

"The woman is a living legend," Harry defended. It didn't hurt that she had sexy older Wednesday Addams vibes. Harry's Mind Healer would have words with him if she knew this story. Words that Harry already knew but mostly ignored. Seeking emotionally unavailable partners because of childhood trauma of an emotionally unavailable caretaker. He was working on it, ok? His eyes went to Riddle where the man was coincidently looking in his direction. Harry smiled and winked.

It was a slow process.

"You joke," Mrs. Ito accused with narrowed eyes.

"I wish. Not all of us enjoy getting kidnapped while on vacation."

Mrs. Ito took her phone from her purse. "So you don't have a problem if I call to ask her."

"Do it," Pike urged with a laugh and Harry shrugged, not caring either way. She put her phone in her ear and when someone picked up on the other line she put it on speakerphone.

"Arpa love, I have a boy here that says he knows you."

"Hi baby girl," Harry said cheerfully, loud enough for it to be heard.

Silence. Then "Harry," Arpa purred. Mrs. Ito looked at the phone as it had betrayed her and immediately ended the call by closing the cover. She stayed quietly staring at her phone while she processed what had just happened. Pike kept randomly testing drinks that were going out and Harry was busy texting.

"That was one of your more innocent stories?" she asked flatly.

"Well, yeah. Nothing happened. We stayed for a bit and then when we got tired we dragged Potter out of there."

Mrs. Ito opened and closed her mouth several times, looked at her phone, looked at Pike, and looked at Harry.

Their moment of solitude ended when a group of Death Eaters approached them.

"Potter, I think you have done enough damage. How about you leave now, hmm?" Snape said.

Harry nodded to Snape, politely said his goodbyes to Mrs. Ito, and signaled to Pike to follow him.

"I'm fine here, Harry," Pike said as he stared down Snape with hostility.

"Pike," Harry said sharply. "Let's go for a smoke." After a second, Pike left the bar and followed Harry.

"You should have let me," Pike snarled. "He needs a lesson in humility."

"Yeah, and we need our jobs. Unless...?" Harry said with a smile.

Pike exhaled slowly as they made their way outside to meet up with Martinez. "Admit it, Potter, you just want to see me in a bikini."

Harry snorted. "That hairy ass? Hard pass."

They met with Martinez in the alleyway behind the restaurant.

"Potter, nice work with the bomb."

"Fuck you," Harry said as Pike passed him a cigarette and lighted his own.

"We have another problem," Martinez continued undeterred. "The water is murky. This is not passing the clam test."

"Ah." There was a traitor. Harry thought about his day as he pulled on the cigarette. "Are you going to try to smoke them out?" Harry asked as he considered and eliminated possible candidates until one shone like a star.

"I can't...unless you help."

Harry thought about it. "What kind of help?"

"Stay close to Riddle, make sure he survives."

Harry threw the almost complete cigarette to the floor and stepped on it. "It can't be tonight," Harry said. "I'm working on almost no sleep and I can't do an all-nighter."

Martinez and Pike looked at each other. "What?" Harry asked irritably.

"We have reason to believe Riddle might not survive the night if things continue as they are."

"Fuck," Harry swore. "I finally have a fucking dental plan. I was planning on searching for apartments next week. Fuck. I'll do it."