Disclaimer: Harry Potter & his world belong to J. K. Rowling.
Rated M for mature readers. Sexual content in this chapter.
Chapter 11:
Three days after Julie left, Harry joined her. Julie's sister lived in a rich home, surrounded by green countryside, dotted with the high white fences of surrounding properties, all of whom seemed to be involved in horse-breeding.
Julie welcomed him, and as soon as they decently could, they went to their room to make love. Three days felt like a deprivation to both of them.
Julie was happier, although Harry disliked the continual round of parties and festivities that both she and her sister enjoyed. Lynn and Jake loved showing off their famous house guest, and had boasted for years of the connection. But Harry very much disliked being shown off. He said nothing. Whatever Julie wanted...
At one big function, he met again the American Minister of Magic that Percy Weasley had so fawned upon a few years before. The big man bluffly referred to their annual visit, and asked whether it would be in February as usual. Harry said vaguely that he supposed so, he never involved himself with the planning.
At the beginning of January, Harry sent a note to the Department of International Cooperation, and Sarah, the Coordinator, to hold off on the trips for a bit. Julie didn't seem able to make up her mind when they would return, but it was Harry Potter whom Sandra Darke abused to herself. It would be a lot easier if he'd just do as he was told.
The tenth of January, and Harry was sure that they would soon wear out their welcome, although the house was big, and servants did the work. But still Julie didn't want to go home.
"I want to go walking," she told him in the morning. "Just you and me."
Harry was thinking that it would have been a good place to ride horses, but hardly any wizards and witches rode horses. Instead they walked along the gravelled road, Harry going easily at Julie's pace. He still carried his cane, as he was easily knocked off balance, but rarely used it. He knew she was sad, knew that she had been thinking deeply, but was taken totally off guard when she said that she wanted him to go home, but that she would stay a while... He stopped, turning to face her. She wouldn't look at him. He repeated what she'd said, in different words, "You don't want me around any more?"
She looked at him, then, and her eyes were shining with tears, "I'm not strong enough; it's too much for me."
"Julie," he said, wanting her, opening his arms to her, and she went to him, sobbing. But she didn't change her mind.
"Only for a time, and you're to go with other women if you want," although the idea of him going with other women tore her heart.
For the first time in their life together, he argued with her, pleaded with her, but Julie was adamant.
"Only for a time," she said, and again she said that he was to go with other women. She knew now that his health could suffer if he didn't have the physical and mental outlets he needed. Harry Potter was not a normal man, and although she had tried to deny it for years, she had recently seen both his great power, and his vulnerability. He was the most powerful wizard in the world, and he could break down in panic, the same as anyone else. He could so easily get sick, too. It had been a shock to her when she had found that Hermione had stunned him in order to prevent a fit. And then they hadn't allowed her close...
Harry had few secrets from the aurors that surrounded him, even routinely on guard outside his door at night. It could not be concealed that he was living apart from his wife, but, like the scarred wrists, they did not refer to it.
Every day, without fail, he sent her letters. He didn't plead with her, but spoke of the things at home that he thought might make her want to return. The new litter of kittens, three of them tabby, and one ginger, the two grey ponies he'd bought for Chris's boys, who wanted to be involved in Pony Club, that Lady was well and healthy, and carrying her foal without trouble, that the pinto stallion next door was in trouble again, finding his way to a mare all the way on the other side of town.
Harry wanted her to be homesick. He wanted her to come back to him.
But she only sent a letter every week, that told him nothing except the day to day, minor events of her life with Lynn and Jake. Every time he asked, she firmly said that he was not to visit.
Harry did the three weeks in America as was usual in February, and the aurors found him restless, short-tempered, and hard to get on with. They attempted to give him the heavy protection that they thought he needed there, but he was impatient with their presence, and seldom stayed with them.
After the first week, Harry started to visit a brothel every few days. But even when he felt that he needed it, it was not the pleasure that it had been in the past. He wanted Julie, he didn't want anyone else.
They'd given him Franz to be in charge in America, and Franz had never known Harry like this. He'd thought he'd had a hard time with him before! After the first few times that Harry came home bruised and battered after a fight, there were location devices on his glasses and on his shoes.
Harry noticed, and left them there. He knew he was being stupid, knew that he could easily find himself in real trouble, and a rescue could be needed. But it seemed he couldn't help himself. He wanted to hit, and only needed a fool to give him an excuse. There were plenty of would-be muggers in America to give him that excuse. It was only when he put two knife wielding gang members in hospital that he desisted.
On the last day in America, he abandoned pride, and his letter to Julie was a desperate plea. Three days later, her reply barely mentioned his letter, only saying that he should be patient with her. There was no-one else in the private part of the house, but he still put a silencing shield around his room as he cried.
He resumed his more sensible strategy. Quite deliberately, he tried to make her homesick, and his frequent letters again spoke of the daily affairs of home. Old John had died, but his widow stayed on in the little house they'd lived in so long. She made fresh scones whenever he visited. Bill was getting very old, but Chris was an excellent manager, and took advice from Bill whenever needed. Tracy had gone around the cats again, with her contraception spell. Harry thought it didn't make much difference. There always seemed to be kittens around.
That week he wasn't working, and he thought of visiting Beth and Jeremiah, in their sunny home. But Beth knew too much, and he visited Inge and Helmer instead. Britta, too, although he didn't go to bed with her.
When he returned, there was something new. A pinto stallion grazed peacefully in a large paddock that now had very high fences. With him were three mares, beginning to be heavy in foal. Kintu was in the next paddock, with her big foal and her yearling. Jimmy told him that the little horse had been threatened with a fate as dog meat, and that he knew the boss wouldn't like that.
Harry thanked him, and entered the paddock.
"Be careful, remember it's a stallion!" said Jimmy, warningly, but Harry waved to him casually. Unfortunately the effect was spoiled when he tripped on a tuft of grass, could not save himself, and wound up flat on his face.
Five minutes later, though, Harry was caressing the little horse, who was nuzzling him in return. He even hopped into his back, although the stallion had never been ridden.
The stallion threw up its head, waited until he thought he was off guard, and gave an enormous buck. But Harry just laughed, and when he slipped off, hugged him around the neck. He liked that horse. Jimmy Carr wanted to know about gelding him, but Harry said, no, let's give him another season. He still fancied the idea of foals from that clever little horse.
The next week, Switzerland. Jebedee would probably have tried to give Harry experienced aurors whom he knew and liked, especially now. But Jebedee was on leave, and Harry found himself with three young aurors whom he scarcely knew, Peter, Ivan and Ken. Brad was in charge, and he'd seldom worked with Brad, either, although he'd been around for years.
If Harry had his way, he would have the same aurors again and again. He felt more comfortable that way. Brad had originally been recruited from America, a tall man, with light brown hair and dashing good looks. Ivan was dark, of average height, and Peter and Ken were very much typical aurors, big, strong and athletic.
It was a bad time to be in Switzerland, while snow still lay around. But their request had been urgent. There was a new young wizard, apparently keen on duelling. His spells were very hard to break. Apprehensive, Harry asked Heinz, the Swiss Coordinator, the name of his mother, and relaxed. He'd never known a woman of that name, and he was told it was an ancient family of wizards. The mother was not a muggle.
Heinz was amused. It was obvious why Harry Potter asked that question. The parentage of Helmer was well known, and it was also assumed that Harry was the father of Cissy, who was also known to be very powerful. They wondered why he didn't just admit to it as he had to Helmer, rather than referring to her vaguely as a relative.
Monday afternoon, he started on the victims of the wizard that Heinz had spoken of. Harry felt for the spell the first time before doing anything. But it was nothing special, and he didn't even need that touch of extra effort he sometimes used.
He worked quickly through the remaining rostered patients. There were fewer than normal, and he was finished early. And then he stood, looking out at the mountains, leaning against the wall. He didn't really know what he wanted to do.
"Back to the hotel?" prompted Peter, who was shivering.
"Yeah, I suppose," said Harry, and turned, but walking slowly. The light snow was slippery, and Harry concentrated, before suddenly losing patience, and telling Peter that he was going to apparate, and maybe wouldn't be back for some hours. He hadn't even decided where he wanted to go, only knew that he didn't like this place, where he found it so hard to walk.
Harry wasn't back until the following morning. Brad was annoyed and anxious. This was his first time as team leader, and he wanted to do a good job, but Harry wasn't making it easy for him. He was impatient and irritable, although every now and then he'd realise that he was being difficult, and apologise.
All the aurors had a gripe about Harry that week. Catherine said that they had to be patient, that he was having a difficult time at the moment, that normally he was perfectly easy going. When Catherine wasn't there, one of the aurors suggested that Harry's biggest problem was lack of sex. Yarns were told about his frequent women, but they had seen no sign of anything like that. Even when he vanished, it didn't look to them as if he was any happier when he returned.
Staying at the hotel was a young witch by the name of Tessa. She was there because of Harry Potter. There were often girls like this, wherever Harry was. He was so famous, so powerful, and Witch Weekly sometimes featured photographs that showed a very desirable body. Occasionally, there were interviews with women who claimed that they'd been to bed with him, and who would rave about his prowess, and his endurance.
Tessa had never had a man. She was rather silly, quite vain about her looks, and wanted Harry Potter to be the one to take her virginity. They used to giggle about it at Hogwarts, where she'd been a student just the previous year. He was even rumoured to be especially well endowed, a thought which Tessa found very exciting, though scarcely knowing what it meant. She came from a family that kept such things very quiet. For her time and age, Tessa was still quite ignorant. But she knew that they should be naked, and that they should be in bed together.
Of all the girls in her dormitory who used to talk about him, only Tess had pursued him this far. If she got what she wanted, she didn't even plan to use any spells, either to promote or to prevent conception. That was to be left with the gods. The spells were part of basic witch education, although the rest was not. But Harry Potter didn't appear even to notice her.
It was not hard to get information about his schedule, although it was supposed to be confidential, and she was already booked in at the hotel in Spain for the next week.
The next Monday, she watched him at a different hotel, in Spain. He was at a table, drinking with three other men, his bodyguards, Tessa knew. He wasn't taking part in the conversation, staring instead at the window, with a lost and lonely expression on his face.
Harry didn't know what to do with himself. He hadn't even been to a brothel for a week, and was beginning to feel more of the physical deprivation of being without sex. But it was Julie he yearned for. It was not as if she was dead, and he still hadn't been with any woman aside from the ones he paid. It was as if it was not as bad if it was only Candy or Lulu.
That night, Tessa watched as Harry went to his room for the night. She waited. Ivan took up his position in his chair outside the door. Tessa waited. An hour passed. Tessa finally acted. Quiet words with Ivan. She knew Harry, she knew that he would want her to come to him. Ivan wasn't sure that he believed her, but was persuaded anyway, only saying that she must hand over her wand before he let her in.
In his bed, Harry had thrust away the blankets, although it was not a specially warm night. He was wearing sleeping shorts, as he usually did when he slept alone. A gentle light came from the wide open window, protected only by a shield spell to prevent uninvited entry.
Tessa was breathing fast with excitement. She was a little frightened, but determined, and slipped off the single garment she wore. She came closer, panting a little, but with fear, not sexual excitement. And still she did not change her mind. Harry was dreaming as he lay on his back - he was thrusting into the woman and she was holding his pelvis to her, closer and closer.
Tessa climbed softly into the bed, lay her hand on the half erection clearly visible under the silk of the shorts, and breathed in his ear, "Take me, I'm yours."
Harry turned to her, his strong thighs pushed apart her legs, sleeping shorts were instantly vanished, and he took her with a powerful thrust that had her crying out loudly in pain. Three more hard thrusts, and he was already spurting into her, in his climax. He fully awoke to find himself still inside a sobbing girl whom he didn't remember seeing before in his life.
"Who're you?" he asked, not knowing exactly what had happened.
Outside, Ivan had been listening, telling himself he just needed to know that Harry was not being attacked. He heard the girl's cry, and thought that she had what she'd asked for, and incredibly quick. But when Harry asked who she was, and he heard her distressed crying, he began to wonder whether he'd done the right thing. But Harry needed sex, and this girl was offering it. Maybe he'd be easier to get on with afterward.
The girl was gulping, "I'm Tessa - you hurt me dreadfully!"
"I'm terribly sorry," said Harry, "But what are you doing in my bed?"
"Get off me," sobbed Tessa. "It's still inside me, I don't like it!"
"Shhhh," Harry soothed. "It's all right, I promise I won't hurt you again." And again he apologised, "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."
But he didn't get off her, and his penis was still deep inside the girl, no longer hard, but the tightness of her vagina kept it from shrinking.
"You said, Take me, I'm yours. Or did I dream that?"
Tessa sobbed harder than ever. Ivan was still listening, feeling guilty now, and unable to bring himself to remove the eavesdropping device.
Harry looked up, and a silencing shield clamped down on the room. He kissed her gently, tenderly. "You wanted me, and didn't know what it was all about, is that it?" He was feeling very guilty. He had never taken a woman like that, and he was beginning to realise that this was only a silly girl.
He kissed her again, and now he was gently moving his pelvis. She told him again to get off, that she didn't like it.
Harry was convinced that she would be very reluctant to ever have sex again, with such a rough beginning. He remembered a cry of pain. She'd been a virgin, he thought, and he'd taken her so fast, and he tried to soothe her, as he continued to move his pelvis, kissing her, gentling her, promising that she would not be hurt again.
His penis became hard again, inside her, but he was only moving gently, and torn and bruised tissues had become numb. He was no longer hurting her, and after a while, she began to feel an excitement.
He took his time, and when he finally sped up, thrusting harder and climaxing, she too found some pleasure. It was only then that he remembered to work the spell that vanished semen, and drastically reduced the likelihood of pregnancy.
He withdrew and held her close, as she started to cry again. This was not what she'd imagined. And she hurt! It had been such a sudden invasion. And how could it have been as big as she thought she'd felt? Penises were little, soft things. She'd never even wondered how a soft penis could enter a body. She'd thought that the organs must just rub up against each other or something. She knew different now, and she felt pain still deep inside. Is that what it meant for a man to be 'well endowed?' She thought she could do without it. But his arm was around her, and she was very sleepy.
Harry held her through the night. It felt like forever since he'd slept with a woman. In the morning, he gently disengaged himself from the sleeping girl, still almost a child, he thought, studying her face in the daylight.
When he came back from his shower, she was up, too, and vanished into the bathroom. Harry was looking at the white sheet. There was blood, surely more blood than there should have been. Harry had so rarely been with a virgin. There was Julie, and there had been a few others over the years, but always those ones well into their twenties or even thirties, that other men had taken no interest in for some reason. He had never hurt a girl like he had hurt little Tessa.
Tessa came back as he took out his wand, and she, too, looked at the evidence of lost virginity. Harry touched his wand to the sheet, and it was clean.
He turned to her. It was not just his own desire - he thought that she had to do it again, the way it should be done. Otherwise fears might again take over. She was reluctant, frightened. But he kissed her, soothed her, promised her that she would not be hurt. And eventually he persuaded her to lie down next to him as he caressed her pretty breasts, and kissed her lips, rousing the passion that was still scarcely known to her. He was next to her, but he kept his erection concealed, out of her sight. He thought that she could still be so easily frightened off, and he was not a small man.
Outside there was a sign on his door, 'Do not disturb,' and the silencing shield was still in place. He wasn't worrying about being late for work. It took as long as it took.
At last he thought it was time, and he put his knee between her legs, gently pushing apart the thighs. And suddenly she was frightened again, and tried to push him off. Again he soothed her, not forcing the issue, but murmuring that if he let her go now, she might always be frightened, that sex was a good thing, a wonderful thing, that it was all his fault, that he'd been so rough, that it would never hurt again like that.
He was between her legs, the narrow tip of his penis close to her vagina, but not yet inside, and he kissed her closely, passionately, and suddenly she forgot her fears, her pelvis tilted up to him, and he gently inserted the tip of his penis, only pushing in a little, not hurting her. Gently, gently, he made the motions of sex, restraining himself, only using the first couple of inches of his penis, the narrow part, easy for a young girl to take.
After a time, she was pushing herself up to him, caught up in the ancient rhythm of the game of life. Only then did he push himself further into her, still gentle, careful, still not giving all he had. It was enough, and this time when she gave a cry, it was one of fulfilment, and he joined her, pushing just a touch harder right at the last, and he too, gave a cry of fulfilment.
They showered again, together, and he asked her to please come back, to join him for dinner. He was afraid that she might not come back, that she'd remember that she'd been hurt, remember how much blood there'd been. Remember how rough he'd been. It was almost a rape that first time, and the second time, too, when he had not withdrawn when she had whimpered to him to get off her. And yet he thought that after hurting her the first time, he'd had no choice. He had done damage, and he had to repair the damage as best he could..
They dressed, and left the room, Ivan was still on guard, and gave her back her wand. He watched as Harry tenderly kissed her, and she walked off down the corridor. Ivan thought he'd done all right, and said to him, "Good, was she?"
Harry turned to him and said furiously, and with considerable emphasis. "Don't ever do that to me again!"
He was a bit late for work, but swiftly caught up, and he hadn't even been aware that he'd started to be in danger of a nervous attack in the last few days.
He looked for her that afternoon after work, but didn't find her until he went for a swim in the indoor hotel swimming pool. She was there, laughing with Ivan who was off duty, as if she didn't have a care in the world. Harry watched her, smiling. Maybe he hadn't done so much damage after all.
She joined him for dinner at a nearby restaurant, and to a show afterward. Harry tolerated the bodyguards who kept a discreet watch. He had started to feel as if he might be being watched, more than just by the aurors, and yet had no sense of any danger.
That night, it was Tessa who took the lead, turning to him as soon as they shut the door of his bedroom, and kissing him with the passion she was only just discovering. And still he was cautious, and gave her no chance to see how big a full male erection was.
Again there was a sudden fearful withdrawal when he parted her legs, and she needed to be soothed, and petted back into receptivity. It took less time this time before her pelvis tilted up to him, and there was a joyous reciprocal thrusting up to him.
Afterward, Tessa lay awake. Her hand moved gently over her own abdomen, pressing down just below her naval. Surely that first time he had been in so much deeper than he had done since. And now she was becoming really curious, and looked at him more closely. His penis was soft. It wasn't so big. How could it have hurt her so much? The window was wide open, and there was a bright street light outside. She could see quite clearly.
In the early hours of the morning, her curiosity was finally satisfied. She had turned on her side, away from him, and she felt him cuddle closer, and a bit later, although he was breathing deeply and evenly, she felt the now hard penis prodding into the back of her thighs. Gently, she slid away from him, whispered Lumos to her wand, and inspected a large male erection. She was frightened, and she was wanting.
Unable to resist, she reached out and touched. But even this time, when they made love, he was tender and gentle, and she knew that he had not pushed the whole length into her. She wanted it, and was still frightened, and still felt bruised sometimes if he thrust deeper than usual.
It was not until Thursday morning, that he abandoned gentle restraint in response to her urgent cries of wanting, and thrust into her body as vigorously as she needed. Her climax was unexpectedly violent, and he thought a smaller man might have been pushed straight out. But afterwards, she went to sleep with a smile of absolute contentment on her face.
He took off the silencing shield, and left her there, the 'Do not disturb sign' still in place.
He was a little late for work again, and Brad found him in the sitting room that had been allotted to the group, finishing a letter to Julie, using his transcriber. It was only his ordinary letter, a description of his surroundings, a mention of an unusual spell that he'd seen, and little else. He always signed it by hand, and he added something else in his half legible handwriting, that he loved her and wanted desperately for her to come back. His face was again very sad as he sealed the letter.
They left the hotel, and Harry paused on the doorway, and searched the surroundings, although not feeling any specific threat. He was frowning as Brad turned to him, wondering what the delay was. Harry was trembling suddenly, but he did that now and then, and only used his cane to keep his balance until it passed, which it generally did quite quickly.
"You OK?" asked Brad, moving closer to Harry's left hand side.
It was actually in the training manual that he'd seen when he first came to England from America, that when Harry fell, it was always to the left. But Jebedee had ordered the training manual to be no longer used. His friend was a man, not an assignment. It was still read, surreptitiously, and the films of his captivity and the subsequent killing of his captors, were still shared around by the trainees.
"Keep a good watch out, today, would you? And I'd prefer only one auror with me, so that there can be another outside, if you don't mind," said Harry.
Brad was in charge of the aurors, Harry could only make suggestions.
Brad asked, "Is there any reason?"
"No reason, especially. I'd just be happier if I knew everyone was a little bit extra alert."
"Will I say anything to the Spanish aurors?" asked Brad.
"It wouldn't hurt, though I don't think much of the Spanish. They always seem to be half asleep."
Brad was wondering how much notice should be taken of Harry. There were stories, certainly, and he suddenly remembered the marks around his wrists that were still quite obvious. Harry Potter lived a dangerous life. He spread the word, no particular known threat, but be especially alert.
It was the last day of work, and supposed to be a short day. But there had been extra patients added, and it seemed there had been some digging done. In the afternoon, there were to be some ancient cases from institutions, and when that was mentioned, Harry was again very pleased that he could use his strong magic, even if it did make him tired sometimes.
Tessa was to meet him after work, for their last night together in Spain. She had made hints of future meetings, but he had no strong feeling of attachment to Tessa. If he'd woken in time, or entered his room to find her there, she would have been thrown out very quickly, and not at all politely. It was only his feeling of guilt that had him asking her to come back, and, of course, he had become fond of her. It was impossible for Harry to go to bed with a woman and not become fond of her.
Tessa joined them at morning tea, and asked him again if she could watch. Harry made the same excuse that he had used before, that Brad was in charge, and that Brad said he wasn't allowed to have guests as he worked. Brad raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, and only offered her another piece of overly fancy cake.
Harry was again searching his surroundings, looking a lot more carefully than usual. Still he didn't pick up anything out of the norm. Still he had no real sense of danger. It was the same at lunch. He felt just a touch uneasy, but couldn't put his finger on it.
But when the old cases were brought in after lunch, he thought it was explained. They were all old people, four women, two men. He thought he knew, but asked anyway, and one of the women confirmed what he had suspected. It was Lord Voldemort who had cursed them, as a punishment to their parents for defying him. Lord Voldemort was long dead, killed by Harry when he was just seventeen. But he had been a very powerful and evil wizard, and these old people must have been only small children when he had cursed them.
He soon found that these spells were not easy to break. As well as Voldemort being a very powerful wizard, the spells were so very old. Harry thought it was a good test. Could he do six people running, using the strong magic?
He made the trial. Again and again, the magic filled the air, to the awe of young Peter, who watched. And it seemed he had a new limit, not three but six, but that was definitely the limit.
He was exhausted, and sat afterward, head down, as the old people gathered outside, crying with relief. It felt so good to be normal, something that they had not felt for so very long.
Catherine watched him, and suddenly took out her Nisco monitor and went to him.
"Catherine," he protested. "You're not supposed to fuss, remember!"
But he was trembling, and she only said briskly, "Don't be silly! You've obviously over-tired yourself, and I need to make a check."
She made her checks, finding the energy levels very low indeed, LV normal for him, weight surprisingly down, but no hint of impending fitting. He only sat, leaving her to it. He thought he wouldn't do that again. Probably he could have done some of those people using the telepathic cure. It had been strange to feel Voldemort again, even through ancient spells. They had had such a weird linking of minds for a while.
There was a fuss going on outside, and Harry raised his head, listening to the sounds of distant screams and shouting. The door was open, and he rose, staggering slightly, and using his cane to steady himself.
The Spanish Coordinator was just outside, and a Spanish auror was talking to him. "It's the girlfriend, she's dead!"
Eduardo looked at Harry, and Harry felt a chill, "My girlfriend? Tessa?"
Brad was there, then, looking at Harry.
Harry strode out, his fatigue forgotten, his old forehead scar starting to be more prominent. If it really was Tessa, some-one would pay! It was Tessa. She lay on the ground, robes spread about her, eyes open with a look of fright. Harry leaned down, and touched her cheek. Straightening, he looked around.
"Where is he?"
One of the Spaniards said that he'd disapparated.
"Where?" snapped Harry, and when the auror indicated, he strode over to the spot, felt with all his senses, and silently vanished.
It was no-one he knew. The wizard didn't even know why he was paid to kill the girl. Harry supposed that it was to hurt him. He didn't think that Tessa herself would have dangerous enemies. Tessa met him Monday night, and was dead Thursday afternoon. Harry allowed the wizard who had killed her to draw his wand in front of witnesses, before whipping out his own wand, but killing with the squeeze of the mind that he always used to kill. But the wizard had drawn his wand, and that made it a duelling death. Duelling deaths were never punished.
He looked around, disarmed two other wizards who had drawn their wands, and disapparated again. But his exhaustion had come rushing back, and he did not succeed in apparating into the hotel as he intended. Instead he appeared in the street a few blocks away, staggering and uncertain.
Carefully, he put his wand back into his pocket, wished that he had one of Franz's location devices in his pocket, and sank down onto the pavement, his back to the wall. His head was swimming, and he leaned it back against the wall, and waited. He didn't know where he was. It was in the nature of disapparation that he could be just around the corner, or three hundred miles away.
He had his eyes shut and was trembling again, and when Brad touched him on the shoulder, and said his name, he thought he was dreaming. But he still had location devices planted on him, and Brad and Peter had found him.
They took him back to the hotel before Brad questioned him. Brad was an auror, and he suspected that Harry had killed. At the first insistent questions, Harry had looked at him with a fathomless expression, and Brad wondered if he would lie.
"What did you do, Harry?"
Harry was very tired, and asked if he could talk about it in the morning.
Brad persisted. He was more likely to get truth when the suspect was tired.
"It was a duelling death," Harry finally said. "I let him draw his wand, and only then did I draw mine, and then I killed him."
Brad was silent for a moment, then said, "A bit of a risk wasn't it, letting him draw his wand first?"
Harry said tiredly, "No risk. I'm better than anyone. But he drew his wand first and that makes it a duelling death."
Harry said that he was better than anyone, not boastfully, but as a simple statement of fact, in the same tired voice that admitted to a duelling death.
"How did you know where to go? Whether it was him?"
"It was him. He killed Tessa because he was paid to do it. He didn't even know why."
"Where is this man?" Brad asked.
"No idea," said Harry. "I apparated there, following him, and then I apparated out because there were others there, and I was too tired to keep them under control for long."
The faces of Brad and Peter seemed to be spinning and there was Tessa, too, her face interweaving with the others, and Harry fell forward from his chair.
Catherine was very annoyed that she hadn't been called straight away when they'd brought Harry back. When she did the Niscos again, she found that this time, not only the energy levels were rockbottom, but the LV was down, too. Brad sent an urgent message to Jebedee as there could be international repercussions.
Liaison with the Spanish aurors ascertained the identity of the dead man, questioning of known associates found witnesses, who admitted that the dead man had drawn his wand first, and Harry was off the hook. He had diplomatic immunity in any case, although in all the years of travelling, no-one had been rash enough to tell Harry that.
Harry recovered quickly, waking in a few hours, in spite of everything, very hungry. He was alone in his bedroom, but showered, and dressed himself in fresh clothes, before opening his door. Ivan sat in his usual chair, reading a book. Harry nodded, and Ivan rose, ready to follow him.
"No instructions to arrest me?" Harry asked.
"They said it was all right, that it was a duelling death," said Ivan.
Harry nodded, he hadn't really been worried. "Not very good to know, am I?' said Harry. "She gets into my bed Monday, and is dead on Thursday." His face was very bleak. Ivan said nothing. What could he say?
Jebedee as well as Brad and Ken, were in the sitting room. Catherine was there, too, relieved to see that he appeared fine. She'd checked him just a half hour before, and didn't ask him to submit to any further examination. Like Therese and Jodie before her, she found that he was easier to manage when unconscious.
Harry paused at the entrance, nodding to Jebedee, who asked how he was.
"Hungry," he replied. "I'm just going out to find something to eat - I've obviously missed dinner."
"We'll organise you something," said Jebedee, "Sit down."
Harry sat, as Jebedee asked Ivan to organise some dinner for Harry.
"Are you a target again, Harry?" asked Jebedee. "First you have unexplained rope marks around your wrists, and now a girlfriend is dead."
"I don't think they're after me directly," said Harry. "That's why I didn't feel the danger today - someone just wants to hurt me, not kill me. And poor little Tessa was the weapon."
Jebedee was frowning. "Any idea who?"
"No," said Harry, and Jebedee thought that he lied.
He paused. "Are you going to tell me how you wound up with rope marks around your wrists."
"No," said Harry, and looked up with a grateful smile as Ivan brought in a tray, and Peter took out his wand, and conjured a table.
Harry had used the strong magic six times running, had then apparated to a man he didn't know, somehow following the apparation line from traces in the atmosphere, something that had never been done before, and was obviously impossible, and had then killed a man, disarmed a few others, and apparated again. No wonder he was hungry!
Jebedee regarded him with some affection. Harry was eating as if he hadn't eaten in weeks. And it was confirmed by the Spanish that the man he'd killed had a bad reputation. He was rumoured to be a killer, but the only times there were witnesses, the killings were duelling deaths. He was supposedly the best duellist in the country, but according to Harry's account, corroborated by witnesses, Harry had allowed him to draw his wand first - obviously, Jebedee thought, so that he could claim it was a duelling death, even though it was probably just as much an execution as those long ago killings that he'd been convicted of. Or the killings of five terrorists currently attributed to Allah.
Jebedee stayed with the team that night, telling Harry casually that the following week's work had been cancelled to give him time to recover. Harry nodded and thanked him.
He went to her funeral a few days later. The aurors were waiting, knowing that it was likely he would be there, although he hadn't told them. But he didn't object when they took up defensive positions behind him. Tessa's parents looked at him bitterly, and turned their backs. Harry didn't approach them. There had been a letter of sympathy. It was not answered.
In her office that Thursday, Sandra Darke was very annoyed. There were always complaints when a visit was cancelled or postponed. Harry Potter really was an absolute pest, and he shouldn't be allowing a trifle like his girlfriend being murdered to upset her plans. From what she'd heard, he'd only known her three or four days!
Sarah, in her office, only did some rearranging. To Sarah, it was just part of the job.
A few days later, Julie's sister was reading the Kentucky Wizarding News, and commented, "I see your husband's been duelling."
"Duelling!" said Julie, incredulously, "Harry never duels. He's too good!"
Lynn read the article to her. It was very short on detail, although they managed to make it a long story anyway, padding it out with irrelevant statistics about duelling, and a reproduction of one of Harry's published articles about the stupidity of the tradition.
Julie went away quietly by herself afterwards. Whatever the full story, it sounded like Harry had been in danger again. What if he'd been killed, and she'd never seen him again? And she studied again the awkward, illegible scrawl on the bottom of a letter. She could make out his signature, but the rest of it was even worse than usual. She couldn't read it, and yet, she felt that she knew. She knew he desperately wanted her back. She went to her room and started packing.
Harry had been trying to visit Draco Malfoy again, but kept missing him. He once found Kryall there, though, and studied the young man, three years younger than his sister. Kryall was looking at him, alarmed. Feeling his alarm, Harry felt for the cause. So it was Nerrissa and Kryall who had definitely been responsible for both the Anniversary shambles and the killing of little Tess.
Unusually, Harry was looking fully at the mind of a person. Nerrissa was abroad, it seemed, and Kryall didn't know where she was. Harry felt his adoration for his sister, and knew that she used him for sexual satisfaction. There was a sick mixture of jealousy and lust when Kryall thought of his wonderful big sister, for whom he'd do anything. Kryall watched Harry as a petrified animal sometimes watches its predator.
Harry spoke. "Nerrissa is going to get herself killed. If you want to save yourself, then you have to get right away from her, remove yourself from her influence. Your grandfather is a friend, it would be a shame to have to kill the last of his family." And for the first time in his life, Harry made a real difference in the mind of another. He didn't do much, but he made Kryall see that his relationship with his sister was ruining him.
Harry dropped his influence, but his words were clearly remembered by Kryall, and he left England, not even keeping in contact, so that Nerrissa would not be able to drag him into any more of her schemes.
Harry thought about going after Nerrissa, but he knew her too little, only vaguely by sight. And it seemed she'd thought it prudent to hide from him. He went home.
The moment he arrived, he knew Julie had returned. He found her in the bedroom, and went to her, still a touch apprehensive. But she turned to him, and opened her arms. Harry had to battle to contain his emotion. She hated him showing weakness... Julie had come back to him, and the misery of months was over.
The days dawned sunny for a while. Fruit trees blossomed, and grass grew thick. Harry's home wore again its accustomed air of content. The boss and his wife lived and loved again together. Julie didn't want any more holidays away, and Harry kept working, but coming home every afternoon straight after.
The aurors no longer complained. Except for lunch, and occasionally breakfast, most of them scarcely saw them. Some of the female aurors were rostered on again, and Ivan and Natalie had a romance, and so did Peter and Tina.
***chapter end***