Thanks for your comments/reviews since my last update, and also, a shout-out to those who have added the story to your alert list, c2, or favourite list, it's almost as good as a review, 'ya know! Happy birthday tooo mee! Yet, it is me bearing gifts, with another chapter from "Daedric Artefact". Chapter 19 was completed recently, so lots of material to share, but I figure it best to keep it with weekly updates.

Posted April 26, 2012.

-CHAPTER 6-

TAKING LEAVE OF ENGLAND

Harry was awakened the next morning by someone prodding him in his side.

"Master must wake now."

"Wha?"

"Master is wanted in the kitchen by the... Weasley boy," said Kreacher, in a low voice.

"Huh? What?" Harry tried to sit up, confused, but found himself pinned by his muscular friend... friend? What were they now? "Mace?" He poked the guy gently.

"Yeah?" came his sleepy voice. He shifted slightly, although still keeping Harry pinned.

"Need to get up. Bill's back." Harry craned his neck so he faced Kreacher. "Let Bill know we'll be down shortly."

Bill ended up having to wait for twenty minutes, before the pair of them showed themselves. Harry looked very much unkempt, as did his friend, and Bill very quickly put two and two together. They had become more than friends.

"'morning you lot."

"So, what's the verdict?" Harry asked, as they took seats at the kitchen table. Kreacher was already putting out food: cereal, toast, boiled eggs, and pumpkin juice.

"Gringotts can supply the pair of you with proper identification, but it's not cheap. Two hundred galleons per set."

"Shit."

"I did speak with Professor McGonagall, however. If you don't mind paying the school back once you get things sorted."

"I don't want to-"

"Harry, whatever we gotta do, right?" Mace reminded, as he filled his plate. "Got any coffee?"

"Coffee? Unlikely. We've got tea, if you'd like."

"Pass." He looked at Harry, and said, "Whatever help we can get right now... you trust her, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"It would be an indefinite loan anyway, Harry," Bill reminded, as he also took a seat. "There's a lot of us who are behind you a hundred percent."

"Fine. See to it, then. What about airline tickets?"

"Those, not so bad. About a hundred and fifty galleons each. I've got a contact in Toronto, a Wizarding barrister. She'll meet you guys at the airport. I just need your okay."

"All right. Set it up then."

"Master should still have access to the Black vault," said Kreacher.

"But without a key-" said Harry, but the elf vanished with a crack. He returned it seemed only an instant later, bringing with him a small golden key, much like Harry's.

"That's brilliant, Kreacher! Bill, take Kreacher back to Gringotts. Pull out whatever you need to settle things up. And I'll need five hundred to settle up with Fred and George—no, make that six. Only fair."

"You'll probably want some of it converted as well."

"Fifty thousand in whatever currency I would need." Mace arched an eyebrow. Whoever his friend... boyfriend? Was, he was obviously very wealthy. Harry, naturally, caught the look. "The Black family was very wealthy. A couple million Galleons easily, quite likely much more. I'll have to get some sort of statement eventually, but right now, we just need to get things in order so we can leave the country."

"If you're magical... bury your name, Harry. Everyone's looking for Harry Potter now. You need to shed that altogether."

Bill gave Mace a pointed look but nodded in agreement. The guy was absolutely right.

"Black. I'll go by Black. Evan James Black."

"Where do you get that from?" Mace questioned.

"James is my middle name. Evans was my mum's last name before she married my dad, right? And Black, of course... Sirius. Perhaps... a bit of a tribute to my parents and my godfather."

"Still a bit close. Besides, I got dibs on James," Mace smirked.

"Right. Jason, then. Evan Jason Black. But I go by Jason," Harry smirked right back.

"If that's settled, we'll be off to Gringotts," said Bill. Kreacher was already offering a hand to the redhead. They vanished with a crack.

"Bloody hell... that just made things infinitely easier. The Black fortune, at my disposal. There's nothing I can't do financially. Looks like the whiskered wanker forgot something."

It was later in the morning before Bill returned with Kreacher. He found Harry—now calling himself Jason, along with Mace, in the drawing room. Jason was once again teaching his friend how to cast cleaning charms, straightening up the room.

"You both need to see this," said Bill, gravely, pulling out two posters, and restoring them to their original size. Jason read each of them, and frowned. "Of course the old wanker would take exception."

"I did attack him," said Mace, looking at the poster. It had a horrible front and side shot of him on it.

"WANTED, by the ministry of magic: James Mace."

James Mace is wanted for attempted murder. Known to be in the company of Harry Potter, fugitive from Azkaban."(1)

"How'd he get a picture of me anyway?"

"Some pensieves have special charms on them that allow the memory to be viewed like a projection—although it is somewhat limited that way—he likely then simply took a photograph," Bill explained, "On a brighter note, I've got your documentation, and Muggle airline tickets. Your plane leaves at seven tonight."

"Good. We can put a few thousand miles between us and all this dragon shit. I swear it, I'll crucify the man if I get the opportunity. It just feels... like he's responsible for all of this. Once again, using my friends to get to me!"

"Just concentrate on getting what you need together. And you'll probably want to use the Muggle tube rather than us travelling by floo powder."

"We're pretty much all set, Bill." Harry blew out a breath, then snatched up the two posters, thrusting his wand at them. "Incendio." They burst into flames.

"Except the updating of your passport and travel documents." Bill frowned, but he understood Harry's frustration. He set one set of documents on the desk. "Let's get this over with."

"What do I need to do?"

Five minutes later, Harry Potter was known as Jason Black, with the papers to prove it. And, even less time after that, Mace had also obtained a set of documents.

"Canadian I.D.?"

"Yeah. It's easier if your documentation is from the country you're travelling to," said Bill, "That's what my contacts told me. It might be considered cheating and so on, but we're wizards. Just using magic to cut through the... what's the expression?"

"Red tape," Mace guessed.

"That's it. Again, my contact explained more than a few things about Muggle travel and the like."

"Yeah. Going through customs is a bitch at times... even where I come from."

The remainder of the morning and part of the afternoon seemed to crawl by for Harry—or Jason. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could see everything suddenly going south, much like everything else had in his life. The Aurors could show up at any minute, somehow led there by the barmy old headmaster. The wards should keep everyone out, but he still had his doubts. Particularly against the ministry itself. The Fidelius charm was compromised—after all, the person he at the moment viewed as an enemy held its secret.

When it was finally time to leave, both his companions could see he was fit to be tied. He was more than relieved to be leaving the place, after leaving a few instructions for the old house elf. In the very short time they were there, he'd easily earned the respect of Kreacher, and that would be more than useful sometime down the road—and even right then, as he thought it over. The house would be sealed up, leaving the meddling headmaster and his band of roasted turkeys one less place at their disposal.

Stepping outside, Mace actually squinted at the brightness of the early afternoon sun, and fumbled around in his jacket pocket for something.

"Thought I had..." He pulled out a pair of sunglasses, and slipped them on. "God... in my time, it would feel like sunset at best, this time of the day."

"What was it like?" Harry questioned, as they set off for the tube station at Tufnell Park.

"Only place with warmth left was around the equator, pretty much. Everywhere else? You know what an ice age is?"

"Yeah. Everyplace gets really cold."

"That's about it. The sun was dying. The days were dim at best... like I said, even high in the sky it felt more like a sunset. Everything's expensive—most of our food grown inside, right? And a lot of people died in places that couldn't adapt. Poorer countries, shit like that."

"When did it start?"

"You guys would have noticed by now. Global cooling, right." Mace reached up a hand, and scratched the back of his head. "Jesus... this feels good." He shed his jacket, and slung it over his shoulder. "Confuses me though. I mean, it's like I'm in a parallel universe or something."

"A few years ago... the year before fifth year, it was really hot here," said Harry, also shedding his jacket, "Didn't know the meaning of sweat until that summer."

Bill, meanwhile, kept quiet, listening to the pair of them. The two of them seemed to compliment each other rather well. He figured Mace was about twenty-five or so, but it wouldn't matter all that much. Harry was nearly nineteen. No, for whatever reason, the older man most certainly fit, and at this point, he was exactly what Harry—or Jason needed. Without an anchor, he would go off the deep end. Bill was still having enough of a time as it is, coming to grips with the idea of the boy-who-lived being locked away in Azkaban for four years. He would never forgive Dumbledore for doing such a thing, or allowing such a thing to happen. A fifteen-year-old boy! He shouted in his head.

The tube ride to the airport was somewhat uneventful, since the three of them had been in the underground more than their share. Mace, of course, wasn't familiar with the London system, but to him, it was something rather mundane, all considering his experiences.

Heathrow International Airport was, as expected, insanely busy. The three of them pushed their way through the sea of people passing through terminal three, and it took until nearly five o'clock before they located the Air Canada check-in counter.

"'Afternoon, loves. Tickets and documentation, please," said the handling agent, pleasantly.

"Your passport, Jason," Bill reminded, as Mace was already producing his. Jason did the same, and pushed the tickets across the counter. The agent glanced at the passports quickly, then took the tickets. She keyed the relevant information into the computer, the keys making a clacking sound as she did so.

"Do you have any baggage you wish to check?"

"No. Our shit was lost yesterday on the train," Mace lied. The woman frowned a moment, but gave a nod, and keyed more information into the computer. The printer was already spitting out a set of boarding cards. She tore them off and slid them back across the counter, with the remaining copies of the tickets. "Row 65, seats A and B. The security gate is that way, enjoy your flight, boys," she said, giving both of them a warm smile.

"Thank you," said Jason, returning the smile. They left the counter.

At the security gate, the pair finally said good-bye to Bill.

"Just remember, once you meet up with Miss Fraser, send me an owl, and I'll join you guys. I can transfer to the Toronto branch of Gringotts so I can continue to help out."

"Brilliant. Thanks a lot for your help, Bill."

"Don't mention it. Harry—Jason, you have a lot more allies than you think. Mum and dad were more than outraged at what happened, and so were a lot of others. When the time comes, everything will get sorted. Just have a little patience, and perhaps a little faith." He gave Jason's shoulder a strong squeeze. He then looked at Mace. "Look after him, for all of us."

"Count on it."

"All right. Be safe, the both of you." And with that, Bill turned and melted into the crowd.

Passing through the security gate was somewhat of an adventure. All the magical items had notice-me-not charms placed on them, courtesy of Bill, but they did cause the scanning equipment to malfunction, forcing the security officers to scan everyone manually afterword. To Jason, however, it wasn't his problem. It was then a quarter to six.

"Hold on. There's a McDonald's. Airline food can really suck sometimes," said Mace.

"McDonald's? I know it's a fast-food place, but what kind of food do they have?"

Mace looked astonished. "You're fucking with me."

"I swear it, I'm not," Jason scowled.

"That's just... weird. Everyone's eaten at McDonald's sometime in their life."

"No, my relatives are weird," answered Jason, as they walked over to the fast food restaurant.

A few minutes later, they were walking toward the actual gate with two paper bags, the smell of greasy chips escaping from them. Jason had let Mace do all the ordering, since he knew more about Muggle fast food than he did. They picked out a bar-like table with stools close to the window, where outside, they could see a massive aircraft parked at the gate.

"That's probably ours," said Mace, glancing over at the entrance to the gate.

"Merlin, it's enormous."

"We had bigger, um... where I come from. But I think that one's a seven-forty-seven." He thought for a moment, as he pulled the contents out of the bag. "You've really not been on a plane before?"

"Nope. Highest I've been is maybe a couple thousand feet."

"On what?"

"A broom."

"A... oh," Mace mouthed, as it dawned on him. He cracked a grin, and Jason couldn't help but follow. It was rather amusing, after all.

Half-way through their meal on the run, the chimes sounded on the PA system like they'd heard a dozen or so times already. "Good afternoon, passengers. This is the pre-boarding announcement for Air Canada flight eight-fifty-nine flying non-stop to Toronto. We are now inviting those passengers with small children..."

"Not yet," said Mace, as the announcement continued, "We've got ten minutes before they start boarding everyone else."

"You've done this a lot?" asked Jason, as he leaned back in his seat.

"Yeah. During the prep leading up to the mission, it was several times a week. But it's nothing compared to being blasted into space."

Harry gave a nod. "No doubt.

As they cleaned up the remains of their dinner, the chimes on the PA sounded again. "Good afternoon, passengers. This is the general boarding call for Air Canada flight eight-fifty-nine..."

"That's us. D'you have your boarding pass?"

"Yeah, right here." Jason dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out the boarding pass. Others were already queueing up at the gate, where a gate attendant was already inspecting boarding passes and letting the first people through. Jason hefted his backpack onto his shoulders, while Mace grabbed the rubbish, and tossed it into a nearby bin. They joined the queue.

It seemed like an hour later before they actually made it to their seats, as a passenger was denied boarding because he was intoxicated, and made a scene. The last Evan and Mace saw of the guy, he was being led away by four sour-faced airport security officers.

"Always gotta be some shithead," Mace muttered, as he took his seat.

"So it seems," Jason agreed, as he took his seat, and stuffed the backpack under the seat in front of him. He glanced out the window. The sinking sun was being reflected back on the plane from the windows of the departure lounge, making him squint several times.

Passengers continued to make their way down the isles, finding their seats. The seats in front of theirs were finally taken, as were the seats across the isle. "Good evening," came a voice over the PA system, "Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned on the Fasten Seat Belt sign. If you haven't already done so, please stow your carry-on luggage underneath the seat in front of you or in an overhead bin. Please take your seat and fasten your seat belt..."

"Here, it works like this," Mace offered, as Jason fumbled with the belt. "It clicks like so—" he pushed the tab into its mate, making it 'click'. He quickly did the same with his own, as the announcement continued.

"Thanks." Jason blew out a breath. So far, so good, he thought. Their journey through the airport had gone unhindered, and within a matter of minutes, they would be soaring high in the sky, leaving England—and the Wizarding world far behind. A small part of him was questioning the plan. Was this truly the right thing to do? He was the 'chosen one' after all... wasn't he?

NO! The answer came screaming back in his head, almost as if it were shouted with a sonorus charm. They had locked him away in Azkaban prison, based on dodgy evidence, dodgy testimony, and the mechanisms of a bent and twisted individual pretending to have the best interests of the Wizarding world in mind. No, he wouldn't lift a finger to help... at least not now.

He was jarred out of his thoughts as Mace poked him. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," answered Evan. Just then, there was a 'ding' over the PA system. "Ladies and gentlemen, my name is Cindy Alliston and I'm your chief flight attendant. On behalf of the entire crew, welcome on board Air Canada flight eight fifty-nine, non-stop service from London to Toronto. Our flight time will be eight hours and five minutes. We will be flying at an altitude of thirty-five thousand feet, and our airspeed will be..."

"More pre-flight nonsense," said Mace, with a grin. He reached over resting a hand on top of Jason's. "Nervous?"

"No. Just... thinking is all. Y'know, part of me feels guilty, leaving everyone behind."

"Fuck, Jason... they betrayed you. Don't feel bad for them, they sure as hell don't deserve it."

"And that's what I tell myself." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. The plane lurched as they pushed back from the terminal gate. Both of them ignored what seemed like an endless stream of announcements from the flight crew about the safety features of the aircraft, and what to do in an emergency. Mace summed it up quite nicely saying, "Best thing to do, is bend over and kiss your ass good bye."

"The irony of that... I'm fleeing Britain to escape Voldemort, and get killed by a Muggle airplane," Jason whispered.

"I don't get it."

"A wizard... being killed by a Muggle machine." He glanced around for a second, making sure his comments weren't overheard. "Best to keep the conversation about other things. At least until we're off the ground." The aircraft was rolling down the tarmac on its own power now, and there was yet another 'ding' over the PA. "Flight attendants please take your seats for take-off."

"Almost there," said Mace, as the two flight attendants in their section moved beyond the curtained partition.

It seemed only a few moments later, when the aircraft swung around one final time, and spooled up its engines. They began to roll down the runway, and Jason could feel the power of the complex machine as it accelerated rapidly. It was tremendous, feeling the power of the aircraft, and then... it was as if everything had fell away. They were already away from the city of London proper, and into the suburbs, including Surrey, and somewhere within, Number four, Privet Drive. He felt no shame, no remorse, as the great bird climbed higher into the sky, far exceeding the maximum height he'd ever flown on his Firebolt.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the Captain has turned off the Fasten Seat Belt sign, and you may now move around the cabin. However we always recommend to keep your seat belt fastened while you're seated..."

"Took long enough," Mace muttered, glancing out the window. They were still over land, but it was becoming hard to see as they were passing through a thin cloud layer. The sun had become slightly dimmed because of this, but Mace knew it would only be a matter of time before they were above the clouds altogether, and would be in the sun's company for most of the journey west. Jason, meanwhile, dug out the backpack, and set it on the empty seat beside him. They had lucked out on that one. During his errands to Gringotts, Bill had also picked up a number of text books: first year books for Mace, and sixth year texts for Jason.

"You have your wand?"

"Yeah."

"Trace the wand movements, but don't try anything. The wand motion is really important, see." Harry opened a sixth-year Transfiguration text book, while Mace seemed to choose one covering charms.

Sometime later, a flight attendant pushing a cart stopped by their seats. "Would you gentlemen like something to drink?"

"Um... just a Coke, thanks."

"Same," said Jason. The flight attendant gave a nod, and retrieved two cans of Coke from under the cart, while Mace unlatched the tray from the back of the seat in front of him. Jason watched his action, and did the same, while the flight attendant poured the cans into two glasses.

"We will be serving dinner shortly. We have a choice of either chicken, or fish."

"I'll go with the fish," Mace decided.

"I'll have the chicken, thank you," said Jason.

"I'll be by with your meal shortly then." She was already turning to the seats across the isle.

"Thought you said airplane food was bad," said Jason.

"No, it's n-not bad... it's just not all that great."

"Oh." Jason turned back to his book.

The flight attendant was back, so Jason marked the page and put it away to make room on the tray table. Mace was doing the same, although he simply stuck the wand in the textbook and closed it.

"Which of you wanted the chicken?"

"I did," answered Jason, and the flight attendant retrieved a tray from the cart. It was wrapped with cellophane, and really didn't look all that appetizing.

"And your friend ordered the fish." She retrieved a second tray from the cart, and made to lean over Jason, but he shook his head, and took the tray from her, setting it on the tray in front of Mace. "Thank you."

"Need anything else, just press the call button." She turned to the seat across the isle.

Jason pulled the cellophane wrapping off the tray, and was not surprised to find it nearly cold. He glanced around again, making sure no one was watching, pulled out the wand again, casting a warming charm. Steam instantly rose from the meal.

"What did you do?"

"It's a warming charm. Here." Jason did the same thing to Mace's meal. "Cold fish. That's just evil," he muttered.

"Agreed." Mace made a sour face.

They ate in silence. Mace had been right. Even with the warming charm, the meal still wasn't all that great. It was a good thing they'd grabbed something from the Muggle fast food place before they boarded. There was no way the food on the tray would have sustained them. At least the dessert was all right.

Not long after, the flight attendant returned to collect the trays and rubbish. Mace immediately returned to studying. Jason had to suppress a smirk seeing what he was reading: the levitation charm. He waited until the flight attendant was out of earshot, and said, "Hermione was the first of us to learn that one. Study the pronunciation and the annunciation, both are very important with any spell."

The sun was still blazing strongly above the few thin clouds, as there was a ding throughout the cabin. Jason noticed his ears had already popped once. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you have probably already noticed, we have begun our descent. Please make sure your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position. Make sure your seat belt is securely fastened and all carry-on luggage is stowed underneath the seat in front of you or in the overhead bins."

"This part of the flight's likely gonna be a bit uncomfortable," Mace warned, as he closed the text book. Jason tapped his book with his wand, causing it to shrink again, and passed it over. Both books were stuffed into the backpack, and it was slid under the seat in front of them.

"Why?"

"It's hard on the ears if you're not used to it," was Mace's explanation, as he passed back the textbook and re-secured his seat belt around his waist. The plane had definitely changed orientation, pitching slightly forward. Jason copied his movements, and made sure both trays were closed up. Mace was right, the sensation about the ears was rather uncomfortable.

Evan glanced out the window, and could see they were already over a densely populated area, and it was rather unnerving. If something was to go wrong, it wouldn't just be those on board killed, right?

The scenery changed again, this time a wide-open space, much like back at Heathrow. The ground was coming up fast, and with a slight bump, they made contact. The plane settled level, and there was a tremendous roar, as the plane began a rapid deceleration. Moments later they were making a turn off the runway onto a smaller taxiway. Yet another 'ding' echoed throughout the cabin. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Lester B. Pearson International Airport. Local time is nine-twenty-eight Eastern Daylight Time, and the temperature is twenty-eight degrees Celsius. For your safety and comfort, we ask that you please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the Fasten Seat Belt sign. This will indicate that we have parked at the gate and that it is safe for you to move about..."

Mace gave his head a shake once more, then turned to Jason. "You look a little green."

"I FEEL a little green. I think I'll stick to my Firebolt," said Jason. His stomach was still churning, and his ears were still ringing.

The trip through Customs was rather uneventful, save for the queue, given both passports were Canadian. The middle-aged agent only smiled after comparing the faces in front of her with those inside the passport, and said, "Welcome home."

"Thank you," said Mace, as they received their passports back.

"Is that all the bags you're carrying?"

"Our baggage was lost on the train to London," Mace lied.

"Very well. If I might have a look in your bag, then." She gestured to Jason's backpack.

"Of course." Jason set the backpack on the counter, and the agent opened it. She pulled out a couple of the books, including the one he was reading, gave them a cursory glance, then put them back.

"Both of you are cleared, gentlemen," she said, and waved them through.

"Thanks," said Jason.

As soon as they cleared the security gate, they found someone holding up a sign which read: 'Black & Mace'. He was dark-skinned with hair done up in corn rows, and wore a dark suit. He was easily a head shorter than Jason.

"I guess that's us. I'm Jason... this is Mace."

"Tyrone, but call my Ty," said the guy, with a soft voice, as they shook hands, "Miss Fraser asked me to see to your comfort until tomorrow morning. We'll put you up in a hotel for the night."

"Sounds good to me."

"You have your own money, or do you need anything else?" They were already walking toward an exit.

"No, got it sorted," answered Jason, "We visited the, um-"

"Gringotts," Ty finished.

"Yeah. Wasn't sure if you were one of us or not."

"Safe assumption. It's a pretty mixed bag at the firm, since we do deal with both Wizarding and mundane cases. Law school was brutal, since we have to know the law in both worlds, I'll tell you."

"God, I can imagine. I just hope... the brand of justice being served up over here is not the tripe they're serving in England," said Jason, darkly.

"Wait until morning. Sandra will have more than a few scathing things to say about our counterparts, that's all I'll tell you now—here... we'll duck in here." Ty pulled them into an alcove, out of sight. "Mr. Mace... you use a port key before?"

"Something like, yeah."

"Great. We're gonna be using a port key to get to the Blazing Goblet—it's pub and inn," Ty explained, seeing questioning looks.

"Right... Wizarding community," Jason realized. Ty, meanwhile, had pulled a tennis ball out of his suit pocket. He drew his wand (a dark, short wood which seemed to match its user), and touched it to the object. "Portus." The tennis ball quivered for a moment, and shimmered blue, before falling silent. "Okay then. Get a finger on it."

With a whirl of appendages, the three of them were whisked away from Canada's busiest airport, to be deposited in the courtyard of a rather old-looking building. Jason found himself being lifted to his feet, and quickly glanced around. It certainly had a feel much like Diagon Alley did, although somewhat cleaner. Additionally, he spotted a number of electric lights which lit up the area. Didn't magic cause too much interference with electrical things? He filed that question away for later.

"C'mon, this way," said Ty, leading them through a doorway to their left.

Inside, the building most definitely did not look like a Wizarding business. The place was lit entirely by electricity, with soft music coming out of the sound system. There were booths along two of the walls, the bar along one wall, with tables taking up the rest of the space. The place was moderately busy, as it was later in the evening at this point. Harry and Mace were shuffled over to the bar.

"'evening, Chris. Sandra sends her regards, needs these two set up for the night."

"One room or two?" asked the bartender. She was rather skinny, with a pale complexion and light brown hair that had been pulled back in a pony tail. Jason noticed she wore the same white shirt as the others working the pub.

"Just one," said Jason, with an honest smile.

"I'll give you room three seventeen. Would either of you like something sent up from the kitchen?" Jason looked at Mace, and seeing him shake his head, he answered, "No, we're fine."

"Sandra will pay the charges once we get these two sorted into some place more suitable."

"'s all right, Ty, I know she's good for it. You two just got in the country, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that," answered Jason.

"You look familiar..."

"Top secret, Chrissie. It's why these two are seeing Sandra in the morning. She's been wanting to take a healthy swipe at a few people across the Atlantic. Mr. Black here's just served them all up on a silver platter."

"Is that so?" Chris reached under the bar and pulled up two pint-glasses. "A drink then, on the house."

"Uh... thanks," said Jason, hesitantly, as the bartender filled the glasses with a honey-coloured beverage.

"Sure."

"I'd join you, but... drinking and Apparating, not a good thing. Might splinch myself."

"Knowing you do that anyway, Ty," said Chris, then stuck her tongue out at the short wizard.

"Oh you're funny," Ty scowled, and pulled up a seat beside the fugitives. "Since I can't have one of those... pour me a Coke." He pulled few sickles out of his suit pocket, and lay them on the counter. To Mace, they looked like quarters.

The offered drink turned into three, and by the time Ty got them up to the hotel room on the third floor, Jason was in no shape to do anything coherently.

"Your friend's a cheap drunk," Ty said, as they helped Jason undress and get into bed.

"Didn't know," said Mace, with a shrug, and then grinned. "A bit funny though. Shit... it's been a while since I had a good drink."

"Right." Ty gave Mace a nod, then said, "If you need anything... you've dealt with a house elf before?"

"Yeah. Harry—Jason has one... bonded, I think he said. And he's got one who's a friend."

"Yes, right. Kreacher, if I remember Sandra saying. Here, you guys can call on Mellie. She works for the firm and Sandra's already filled her in. And here. One of our cards." Ty reached in his pocket, and pulled out a business card.

Fraser, Leyhey, & Graham
Barristers & Solicitors
Tel. 416-555-8917
Floo: Fraser, Leyhey, and Graham Law Office
No case is too big or too small

He dug in his suit pocket again, pulling out a second tennis ball. "This is another port key. It's timed to go off at eight thirty tomorrow morning, and it'll bring you both to the firm."

"And we just stick a finger on it."

"Yep. Easy as pie." Ty glanced at his watch. "Okay. I really gotta get home. Have a good night, both of you." He vanished with a noisy pop.

Mace only stood there, mouth open about to ask another question. It was becoming annoying, how they were just able to 'pop away'. He sighed, and shed his shirt, still buzzing quite nicely from the little pick-me-up in the pub. And Harry—Jason... was adorable as a drunk. He was then passed out on the bed, sprawled out and taking up three quarters of it.

Even though his mind was still swimming with the day's events, Mace quickly joined him. It had been less than a week, and his world had been turned upside down—perhaps for the better. All he knew was the simple truth... wherever Jason went, he would follow.

AUTHOR NOTES: I hope the name change won't get too confusing, but in this case, Mace is right.

(1) Those of you reading this on FF . Net... See my Tumblr account for an actual image of this poster... canuck-slasher is my user name there.