A/N: Hello again! Did you all remember to make a wish at 11:11 11/11/11?

Chapter 32

Magic Show

Harry narrowed his eyes at the belligerent character who seemed to have decided there was no point in further tormenting the noodle chef cleaning up the floor. He spit derisively in the broken stand's general direction and walked in Harry's direction.

He glared at the various people around him before locking eyes with Harry and sneering. "What's that look about, huh? An ice cream stand, huh. Well then Mister Ice Cream Man, how about a bowl of chocolate ice cream?"

"Can you pay?" Harry returned.

"Cheh, yeah, sure," the man answered with an arrogant smirk. He chucked a gold coin at the young wizard's head and attempted to conceal his startled reaction when Harry snatched it from the air.

Harry pocketed the coin and handed over a scoop of chocolate ice cream. Spaz and Roxy stood tense on either side of the stand while Cantora held her spoon in her mouth, using her hands to grip tighter on her baskets.

The man took one bite of the ice cream before spitting it out on the ground with a noise of disgust.

"What's this crap, huh? You call this ice cream? Unbelievable!" For a moment he made as if to try and kick over Harry's stand as well but backed off after a moment when Roxy placed a hand on the katana sheathed at his side.

"If it is not to your liking," Harry smiled with the plastic expression of one humoring another's childish tantrum, "you may have your gold back. Please give back the bowl," he requested.

The man growled and threw the bowl over. This time, Spaz caught it, managing to use his superhuman reflexes to snatch it upright and prevent the ice cream inside from spilling into a mess everywhere. Harry tossed the coin back the man left grumbling.

"Is that really alright?" Cantora asked, setting her baskets down again to finish her ice cream.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not here for profit, and it's hard for a customer to take advantage of refunds for food since it only works if you truly did not consume much more of it than a single bite. As for the man himself, I imagine he'll be taken care of shortly by whatever police force it is that works here."

Cantora tilted her head in question, handing back her empty bowl and spoon. "I thought this was your first time here?"

"It's not far-fetched of an assumption, I don't think," Harry explained, "for there to be some form of law-enforcement at least on the outer edges." He gestured back towards the noodle stand that was being reset and reopened. "It's quite clear many of these people have neither fighting experience nor bodyguards, so there must be something else allowing them all to continue their businesses at a profit despite the occasional violent customers."

"Not a bad deduction," Cantora praised, "and you're certainly right about it only applying to the outer edges. If you move further in, you're on your own. That's why those who sell food and goods stay along the edges, the performers with little to have stolen move a little further in, and the battle arenas where most participants hold pride in being able to take care of themselves are further in still."

"Performers?" Roxy asked.

"Like dancing, music, acrobatics," she listed off.

Roxy and Spaz glanced down at Harry. The wizard scowled. "No."

"Oh come on Harry, please, oh please, it'd be so cool!" Spaz pleaded. "Yes sirree, you'd be awesome and I want to see what's it like further in, and, and, it's not like we can't fight if we gotta, no sirree. Harry, Harry, please!"

Harry grimaced and glanced towards Roxy. "I suppose I already know how you feel about the topic," he muttered as the former marine gave an innocent expression of confusion. "We've only served two customers!"

"You're the one who said you weren't interested in profit," Roxy countered.

"I dislike being in the spotlight."

"You're a magician," came the retort. "I refuse to believe you cannot perform in front of a crowd."

"A magician?" Cantora perked up. "Oh I love magic shows! With former Vice Admiral Blue at your side, there really isn't anything to worry about. I'll help you set up and everything if you promise me a private show."

"Can I at least sell the ice cream?" Harry whined.

"Ice cream!" Spaz shouted. "Only thirty beli a scoop and toppings for an extra ten!"

Interested customers steadily gathered at the flat rate and the ice cream sold out before dinner time.

"Let's go!"

Harry could only sigh and follow along.

"So there's really no formalities to go through in order to set up a show," Cantora explained. "Much like the rest of the ship, really. The only paperwork anyone does here is registration for the battle tournaments and the rare trades with Old Man Merchant himself. Just like the outer areas, the only thing you need to do is find an open space and occupy it in hopes of attracting customers, or rather, an audience." She paused to look at the trio wheeling around what was the ice stand. "Have you decided if you want scheduled shows with ticket sales or just act as street performers for donations?"

"Street performing is fine," Harry shrugged. "We're only here for the experience and street performing is more flexible. Knowing Shanks, there's a high chance we'll need to leave in a rather abrupt fashion."

A sudden breeze blew from behind the group. As Harry and Spaz reflexively dropped to the ground to avoid the attack, Roxy unsheathed his katana and swung the back of the blade at the neck of the unknown man only to cut through air as the attacker suddenly dropped through the floor.

There was a moment of stunned silence as the trio stared at the floor that certainly appeared solid enough, though none thought to test it themselves.

"Trap door," Cantora explained. "He probably thought that such a large box as the one we're wheeling around must contain something valuable."

"Huh," Harry thought aloud, ruffling his hair absentmindedly. "For a moment, I thought maybe it was that strange door power you were talking about earlier."

"That's not possible," Roxy explained, "since there can only be one person with a specific devil fruit power at a time."

"Devil fruit?" Spaz asked. "Ne, is the door power a devil fruit thing?"

"Yes," Cantora said, "sorry if I didn't make that clear before, but to be honest, I don't know what else you could have thought it might have been."

Harry shrugged. "A bloodline power? An old artifact? Though I never knew devil fruits were exclusive that way. I guess this means there's no hope of finding another rubber person for advice about Luffy's new situation?"

Roxy spluttered in surprise. "What a minute, someone ate your fruit?"

"Yes sirree," Spaz grinned, "and it was a really funny thing too, how it happened, yes sirree! You see – "

"Spaz," Harry interrupted, "if we're going to tell stories, shouldn't we finish explaining our own to Cantora?" The suggestion was offered lightly but firmly. Openly offering the information of a child with superhuman powers located on an island that was defenseless but for a sea monster that hibernated on and off was much too dangerous; it was better to keep quiet.

"Oh, right," Spaz nodded enthusiastically. "So, so, Cantora, whatcha wanna know?"

"Well, how about how come three people who aren't part of Shanks' crew are traveling on Red Hair's ship?" she started. "And this place looks like it's getting a decent amount of traffic. We could set up here if you like, though are you sure you don't need any props? Most magicians have a ridiculous amount of necessary tools for their tricks."

"No need," Harry confirmed. "My magic is simple. Its entertainment value lies solely in its impossibility. As for my and Spaz's presence aboard the famous pirate ship, well, Shanks invited me into his crew, but we were hesitant about proclaiming ourselves pirates, so we're more like hired hands working for room and board. Roxy's just tagging along for this one trip because he's the one who knew where to find this place."

Roxy rolled the wooden box into the place Cantora choose while Harry stared in resignation.

"Merlin," he muttered. "It's not like I've ever done an actual show before," he complained to himself as he tapped the wood and flicked his wand into his grasp, deciding that it wouldn't be too strange for a performing magician to wield a magic wand. Heaving himself atop the crate, he looked around of the milling people. First things first – he needed to attract attention.

Lots of attention.

No one said it aloud back on the ship, nor did Roxy and Spaz say anything about it after docking, but it was clear that the goal of this spontaneous adventure was to make contact with Old Man Merchant and possibly see what the legend could offer in a trade. After seeing exactly how huge the area of possibility was, Harry was only just starting to realize what a large undertaking this goal truly was. Winning a bunch of battle tournaments was one way to catch the eye of the man who ran the whole show, but Harry could certainly give his own best shot now that a path has been offered.

"Avis!" the wizard yelled, tropically colored parakeets soaring into the air. As the birds flew up over his head in a choir of chirps, Harry transfigured one into a wizard's hat which he them placed firmly upon his head. "May the magic begin!"

Every person in the vicinity was stunned by the sudden appearance of flying colors and turned towards the source. Suppressing a cringe at the idea that he was actual actively attracting attention, Harry focused on running his mind through spells with affects he knew muggle magicians were capable of.

Having the large box certainly lent a degree of possibility to disappearing acts, not to mention the ever favorite human pincushion act. Conjurations were also common enough at magic shows, and he could certainly employ the hover and color-changing charms he used to entertain Spaz and Shanks that day aboard Zeb. Actually, didn't Hermione teach him the flame-freezing charm? He was pretty sure there were some pyromaniacs out there capable of walking through fire. He'd try to avoid "snake charming" though, since his parseltongue vocabulary was still limited.

As long as no one expected him to explain how a muggle pulls off such tricks, Harry could do this.

Flopping down onto the box, Harry tapped it with his wand to transfigure the material to a less flammable plastic before conjuring stick after stick, littering them around him. A quick cooling charm to tide him over, then an Incendio, followed quickly by a flame-freezing charm and Harry was sitting in the middle of a bonfire to the oohs and ahhs of the crowd. A carefully controlled hover charm lifted the box about a foot into the air and slowly turned it in a circle, eliciting applause which Harry allowed to fade before lowering his stage back down.

Whispering an impermeable charm over himself, the wizard swung back to his feet. "Aguamenti," Harry intoned, holding his wand above his head so that the water rained back down and doused the flames, leaving himself dry but surrounded by waterlogged ashes.

Leaping lightly off his stage, the performing magician swept his hat off with a bow. "Welcome," he grinned. "At this point, I don't suppose any of you would like to volunteer to help me with the next trick?"

"May I?" a woman in the crowd asked.

"Amy," another voice snapped in disapproval. "You shouldn't volunteer for such suspicious things." It was a male standing beside her and using a hand on her shoulder to discourage her from approaching the open clearing of the crowd.

Harry smiled and approached the two. "There's no reason you can't both participate," the wizard compromised, eyeing the man's sword strapped to his back. "As a matter of fact, I have the perfect trick for the two of you. Come on."

Harry returned to his crate and opened it. "Let's see, there's not much in this box but some empty barrels," he narrated to the crowd. "If I take them out," he continued, while acting on his suggestion, "I bet I could fit in here. Now when I close the lid over my head," he explained, "my assistant here," Harry pointed to Spaz, "is going to count aloud to ten. At that time," he said, addressing the swordsman, "please feel free to stab the container however way you like. Just please try not to destroy the thing as we wish to preserve the mystery, no? When you are finished, please let my assistant know. He will count to ten again and the lovely lady," Harry turned to grin at the woman, mentally squirming under the glare her companion was leveling towards him, "shall open the box. What shall be revealed, we will soon find out! Let's begin!"

The crowd murmured amongst themselves, circling the figurative stage as they looked on. The female volunteer looked a little nervous, but the male seemed willing enough to get the whole spectacle over with soon. Harry lowered himself into the box and closed the lid. Casting a disillusionment charm on himself, he shifted into a ghost and crawled out of the box while Spaz counted, encouraging the crowd to do the same.

Harry could only be grateful – it was the kind of thing Spaz naturally was good at. Involving the audience in something so simple was an idea Harry never would have considered. In the time available, the wizard tentatively perused the crowd, looking for inspiration. He was a little worried about bumping into a haki user, but since armaments haki was rarely used outside a fight, Harry felt safer walking through a large crowd of relaxed watchers than staying inside a box at the mercy of a single attacker.

The sound of a blade tearing through wood could be heard in the background, along with the joking pieces of advice from the audience to stab through the center, or try to cut at an angle to hit the unseen target.

Harry had seen a muggle magic show before. After the war, of course, since the Dursleys never would've brought the freak with them to something so fun and "expensive." It was absolutely breathtaking what a muggle was capable of without a spark of real magic, and he felt a little guilty pretending to be of the same type through his shortcut cheats, but soon pushed that thought out of his mind. After all, it wasn't as though he was taking business from any hardworking magicians aboard the ship. All the performances he saw on the way to this open clearing were martial arts acrobatics or dancing.

In the end, Harry couldn't think of anything flashy and just charmed some trouser pockets different colors. As Spaz counted towards the end, the wizard sank himself back into the box, shifted back into physical form, and dispelled the disillusionment charm. The lid creaked open, revealing to Harry the young woman with a nervous expression that quickly melting with relief at the sight of the magician's wellbeing. He stood to loud applause, bowing deeply followed by a yawn.

"Well," he smacked his lips and rubbed an eye as if to drive away fatigue. "I had the strangest dream. Would those in the crowd with empty pockets please humor an eccentric sorcerer and flip them inside out?"

There was murmuring again, this time in confusion, but most were willing to play along and soon there were exclamations of shock as a few discovered their trouser pockets suddenly a vibrant red or blue.

"Marvelous," Harry announced, falling into an imitation of Albus Dumbledore, whose grandfatherly persona was the easiest to adopt in an attempt to sound a little mad but still friendly. "Now for my next trick I'll need the selected people to join me up here."

The crowd shuffled around as the selected persons – all male this time to prevent further bouts of possessiveness – approached the front of the crowd in preparation for when Harry called upon them.

"Now, I'm afraid I've a bit of a problem. Alas, this box is in no condition for further rough treatment," Harry sighed dramatically, patting the wooden crate affectionately. "So I was thinking of moving the cuts from it onto the more useless barrels over here," Harry gestured, moving the barrels around slightly in a rectangle about the same size as the crate. "What do you think?" he asked rhetorically.

Concentrating hard on the feel of cotton cloth, Harry conjured two large white tablecloths and laid them over the crate and barrels, freezing them stiff with an immobulus charm as discretely as he could. Tapping his wand on the crate, Harry waved his wand from the crate to the barrels, muttering a repairing charm followed by a switching charm. The freezing charm kept the cloth shape from giving away the results of the last spell, and Harry dispelled the cloth that now covered barrels and immediately pulled it away with a wide flourish of his arm.

"Voi- ! Bloody hell," he cursed, feigning shock and confusion as he looked between the barrels and the covered object behind him. "Huh, I guess I moved a bit too much. Then," he wondered aloud, walking to the covered crate and dispelling the immobulus as he tore that sheet away as well, revealing the pristine wooden box. "Then where did the cuts go?" he asked, taking his hat off and scratching his head to disguise the severing charm he cast into his hair which fell away in clumps.

Harry looked down as the hair on the floor, made a show of dragging his fingers through his now patchy hair, and then jammed his hat back on his head sheepishly. "How embarrassing," he muttered in a stage whisper. "Let's move on, right? Red pockets to my right and blue to my left please."

The men took their places amongst the audience's chuckles and applause over the latest trick.

"Now, how many of you have ever experienced being sawed in half?"

A/N: Yay magic! Yeah, this'll probably be my only detailed story-telling of Harry performing as a magician, because I really started running out of ideas for plausible magic tricks towards the end. Maybe when he relearns parseltongue?

Thanks again to my beta, PyromanianBlackWings.

Kimay: I'm glad you like the story! I'll try to keep it action-filled :) Ah, tape. It'd probably be easier for Harry to just use a Langlock jinx. As for sugar-high Spaz, uh, you know, with all the sugar Harry's been cooking, I'm surprised no one's tried to kill him yet XD Thanks for the review!

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