A/N: The response to the first two chapters was pretty good but didn't really give the reader a feel for the story. This one should set the pace of the story for following chapters. Oh and thanks to beni for the comments.

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A/N2: Added a small change to fix a technical omission - just something necessary for the genre. 16.3.14

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Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta

Chapter 3.

For a day in mid-April the weather was ridiculously hot and dry. It had been this way for a week and no one could remember anything like it. Already, the dampness of perspiration was soaking his collar after walking the first block. The blue blazer, while a professional necessity, wasn't helping things.

Kingsley's report told a candid side of Penny's career that most would never know. Her family submitted her to intensive voice and dance coaching in some of the finest academies. With her voice training, she was to able to sing with classical precision and her dance background enabled her to out-perform most show-bands leads. While generally considered a mezzo-soprano she was quite comfortable in the range of the light lyric soprano and could move her voice along a four octave range. After a break with the Weird Sisters, she briefly struck out on her own to start up a pop rock band called 'Witches, Bitches in Britches'. It was an all female wizarding band and very popular in wizarding clubs around the country. But suffering from limited visibility and bookings, a trait inherent to most all-magical groups, she set out on her own again to find brighter lights.

Quickly partnering with a Muggle symphonic rock group called 'Bells of Elysium', Penny was able to hide her magical talents behind her natural stage-craft. With great looks, a super voice, and a genuine dancing ability there was nowhere for her to go but up. Her new band quickly became a European sensation with a frenzy of bookings.

The property around her flat was clearly high let. Even the dogs had professional walkers. Pausing by the sidewalk, he glanced up through ornamental trees to the top level terrace where he imagined her flat to be. Two muscular street doormen glared rudely as he pushed on the huge glass door to enter the foyer. He fought the temptation to smack them both across the cojones with a stunning spell. After finding and pressing the intercom button to her flat a staticky voice responded.

"Miss Penthane's residence," came the gruff reply from the intercom.

"This is Harry Potter. I have an appointment with Miss Penthane," he said, speaking clearly into the machine.

"Right you are. The doors to the lift are unlocked Mister Potter."

"Thank you."

There were two more glass doors guarding the brass plated lifts behind two artificial palm trees. Pushing one of the doors, it opened effortlessly and oily smooth. Studying the two lifts he could see the one was labeled for all levels up to three. The other one was singularly labeled fourth and appeared to have no other function. Penny's number was on the fourth level, so he gently pushed the button and waited for the polished brass doors to open.

The inside of the lift was paneled with fragrant unfinished wood, which his nose quickly identified as cedar. Soft mood music was piped in to hide the noise and an overhead air conditioner vent was blowing cool, sterile air. Hydraulically dampened doors opened to a spacious foyer with tons of light, potted plants, and Italian marble floors. A door attractively labeled 4309 was nestled snugly at the end of the foyer. Self-consciously, he lifted the lapel of his jacket to sniff his shirt for perspiration. None that he could tell, but he wasn't sure if he remembered putting on deodorant this morning as he dashed out fifteen minutes late. He pressed the glowing button by the door and drew a deep breath.

A heavy and mechanical sounding latch clicked open, and a professionally dressed man in a midnight blue jacket and red tie greeted him. He had a short crew-cut and fashionable beard stubble showing on a firm jaw line. Ex-military by the looks of him.

"Right this way Mr. Potter," he said dryly and Harry followed the man down a comfortable but narrow corridor, decorated with pictures of the band on tour. As the man turned, Harry could spot what was probably the bulge of a handgun under the left armpit. The hall led into a large and open sitting room with a great view of the terrace and the city beyond.

"Make yourself comfortable – she'll be out in a minute," he said and disappeared behind an inconspicuous service door. The guard's nonchalant attitude and lack of scrutiny was poor security, but the since the stalker was magical it probably didn't matter.

The place looked like the cover of an interior decorating magazine. It had a lavish blend of glass and stainless steel with warm hardwood floors on a split level. There was white fleece rugs and several cream and chocolate colored leather chairs. Beyond a wall of windows and glass doors was a spacious terrace with a view of the city. The windows had cream colored blinds pulled down and tilted into a half closed position. The view had to be breath-taking at night, he thought. A million – yep, the place had to let for a cool million a year. He sank into a butter smooth leather chair and picked up a copy of the 'Rolling Stone' sitting on the coffee table in front of him.

He'd just found the magazine index when the soft footfalls of feminine footsteps on hardwood announced the lady of the house.

"Hello Harry," Penny greeted with a cautious smile.

"Hello Penny," he said as he rose quickly from the chair and tossed the magazine back on the table. "Or should I call you Electra?"

She laughed and said, "Penny is fine – better really. How are things Harry? Haven't see you in an age."

Harry rolled his shoulders into a shrug and managed a grimaced expression. "I've got an angry boss Penny."

"Oh Harry," she said and shook her head. Strands of straight silky black hair moved together in perfectly balanced unison. "I know – this is terrible. Can I get you a drink?"

Harry thought about the offer. "Just Water," he said with a shrug.

"Of course – you're on duty," she said and moved gracefully behind a bar opposite the glassed wall to the terrace. She threw a few chunks of ice in two generous goblet sized glasses and filled each half full of water. "I'd suggest the terrace, but I'm afraid it's still a bit too warm. Crazy weather we're having."

"This is fine," he said as he took masculine pleasure in watching her every move.

"I'm not sure where to begin Harry," she said and handed him a glass. "And I'm not really sure what happened that night."

Harry took a sip of water and watched Penny pacing on hardwood. She moved with the bounce of an athlete and the grace of a dancer. The glossy black hair was cut not quite square but rounded off and just short of the shoulders. She was wearing skin tight black leggings and American style flip-flops of some designer brand. Her top was sheer white and barely opaque with a long tail that barely covered hers.

"You had a stalker – Ron said something about that," Harry managed at length.

"Yes. Yes that's right. I asked Kingsley for help, but I never thought it would end up like this," she said and pulled a sad face.

"So... this stalker – you were convinced he was magical – a wizard," Harry asked and Penny moved over to the chair opposite from his and plopped down, breasts oscillating for only a moment. She took a deep breath and looked at him closely before answering.

She had a smooth sexy voice that sounded like butterscotch tasted. Her jet black forelocks were cut in a fringe just past the eyebrows over big grey eyes that reflected a glint of quicksilver. Perfectly concentric and spherical cheekbones were distinct and very high. The upper lip was short and pearly whites were perfectly framed.

"At first it was just a woman's intuition," she said and reflected with a sip of water. "And later on – well, I was pretty sure."

"Really – how so?" Harry asked, leaning back in the leather chair and sipping the water.

"He was just odd looking. I've been all around Europe Harry and seen all kinds of fans, but nothing like this guy."

Harry frowned at the useless description. "Odd – in what way?"

She shook her head for a moment. "Like he was from the wrong time period or something?"

"I see. So what made you think he was a wizard?" Harry asked, as he pretended to be interested in her, less than professional, description.

Penny scratched her ear through layers of jet black hair. "He kept showing up after shows. Sometimes before. But, at first, that's all there was to it," she said with a shrug. "Then one night, after a show, I thought I heard the crack of apparition – just right outside here – on the terrace. I'd come in for a drink, you see, but left the door open. When I went back out I saw Jimbo, one of my bodyguards, lying on the terrace. He was out stone cold," she said and paused for a drink.

"Yeah, what happened next?" Harry asked.

"Well, for a few weeks nothing. Jimbo never knew what hit him, and he's no slouch, Jimbo – Ex-Military, tough guy."

"Was that him?" Harry asked, alluding to the guard that let him in.

Penny smiled. "No," she said, shaking her head. " – and something I didn't tell Kingsley. One night about a month ago, I had let everyone off except for the front guard. I went over to the window. It was a beautiful night, but late and I was about to turn in and close the blinds," she said and rolled her eyes. "I didn't have much on you see," she said with an uneasy grin. "Well I looked out and the bastard was just standing there – I ran for my wand, but by the time I got back he was gone."

"You didn't call the guard?"

"No. Those guys can't handle a wizard – and besides I was nearly naked."

"Oh, yeah, I guess so," Harry said with a nod. "Well, back to the night Jerry and Ron got hit. Was it after the show?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was definitely after the show Harry. We'd just finished up and the lights were coming down. I changed in my dressing room and we were out in the car park and almost in the Mercedes," she said and paused for water. "They said something was a little odd and were going back to check it out. One of the guards pushed the top of my head in the car and told to driver to get us out."

"So after the show – that was the last you saw of them?"

"Yeah, that was the last. The stalker creep – he must have got the jump on them," she said, shaking her head.

"Penny," he said slowly with deliberation. "No stalker or peeping Tom, or whatever you want to call him, can take out two Aurors. That won't happen," Harry said firmly.

"No..." she asked, with an expression on her face like a child that just got the answer wrong.

"No... no way in hell."

"They're that good huh?" she asked with a little smile.

Harry ignored the question. She nodded then jumped up out of the chair.

"You like some more water?" she asked.

"No, but thanks."

She walked over to the plate glass window and stared out for a few moments.

"So what do you think Harry – can you help me?" she asked and brushed back her hair.

Harry carefully considered the question. "I think so – yes, but not as a bodyguard. At least not in the strictest sense. I'm after the wizard that killed an Auror and almost killed my best friend," he said.

"Yes I see, but watching out for me might be the easiest way to find him," she added.

"Penny, I can help you – but only at select times when we're most likely to run into this character. If you need a magical bodyguard, I could leave you a couple of names."

"But this creep has already taken out two of your guys – would an ordinary wizard be enough?" she asked and moved over directly into the path of sunlight beaming in through the windows.

Harry mulled over her question. As much as he hated to admit it she had a point. She had turned her back toward him to muse over the view outside the terrace. Even with the blinds halfway closed the afternoon sunlight was rendering her sheer top almost invisible. She appeared to be completely unaware or completely indifferent. She lifted one arm to brush away her hair and raised her glass with the other one. Her curvacious figure was perfectly back-lit by the sunlight, and Harry guessed she would be be just as comfortable out of clothes as in them. When he didn't answer, she twisted her torso to look his way, beckoning an answer.

"No – no it wouldn't be enough," he heard himself say.

"Can you help me then?" she asked and turned away from the sunlight.

"If we can agree on some conditions – sure," he said. He was being difficult because Ministry policy generally forbade Aurors from doing bodyguard work. But already he knew he would do it. Besides – she had a body worth guarding.

"Okay – what kind of conditions?" she asked and returned to the chair, sitting on her legs folded under her bum.

"First, I need to talk with Ron – when he wakes up that is. I'd like to know what he encountered that night," he said.

"How much time do you need?"

"I don't know – he's in bad shape. A week or two?"

"Yes but... you don't mean canceling shows during this time?" she asked, obviously alarmed.

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that's what I mean."

"Oh, I don't think so Harry. I can't do that. What excuse would I give? That two wizards were ambushed?"

"I don't know – you can think of something, can't you?"

Penny looked off into space to ponder his question.

"Look – if I take a week or two off, people will assume I've got a drug problem. A new entertainer with the same old troubles. No, I've fought too hard to stay away from that image. The show must go on Harry."

"Even if it means your life," he probed.

"Look – if you want to wait until your friend comes around – that's okay, but the show has to continue. I need your help Harry, but it has to be this way," she said apologetically.

"Alright – I'll try and work around that."

"Thanks."

"Now – we'll have to work out a schedule – when you'd most need protection, that is," he said.

"Okay, I can do that. How late do you work?" she said with a smile.

"And one more thing," he said pointing his finger.

"Yeah, what's that?"

"I may have to establish some rules. We can discuss them. But if you agree, then you must follow them. This is critical. Do you understand?" he asked calmly.

"I understand, but we discuss them first right?"

"Of course," he said, nodding. "So when do I start?" he said, throwing his hand up in surrender.

"Well, the sun's off the terrace and I was considering a drink. Can you join me? We can can discuss these rules," she said and pointed back with an index finger.

Harry checked his watch. "Well it's not quite five, but I don't think Kingsley would mind."

‡‡‡‡‡

"Yeah, just one cup this morning," Harry said to the canteen attendant who knew he normally bought one for himself and one for Ron. The Colombian arabica was a little stronger than what he normally drank, but he didn't have time to sit down and enjoy a cup at breakfast. Kreacher had been furious when he rushed out of the house late again without breakfast. He barely had time for half a cup while he threw together an egg sandwich for the way in.

He had sat out on the terrace with Penny for a couple of drinks and then a couple longer. She admitted that after the stalker showed up she was reluctant to enjoy the terrace. Once they finished going over the technicalities of what he could and couldn't do for her, the conversation turned light and airy. They talked and laughed of school days and caught up on what had been going on since the war. The terrace turned cool and comfortable after the evening air settled in. Chatter and laughter from the street below floated to the top of the building along with smells from a nearby bakery that tickled the nose. All of this being back-lit by neurotic city lights, which never dim until dawn.

Hermione had left the Department of Magical Law enforcement several months ago. Her and Ron had gotten into a riff and broken up. After that, she twisted Kingsley's arm for a transfer. If he hoped to have any luck on this case, he'd need to get her back into magical law enforcement. Hopefully she'd have some encouraging news about Ron. Just a few steps away from her office door, he could see her light was on. He walked up quietly and poked his head in her doorway.

"Good Morning Hermione."

A once bushy haired, but now straight, head of brown hair spun around. As she had done once for the Yule Ball, Hermione had taken to magically straightening her hair now on a regular basis. The buck-teeth had been magically corrected while in Hogwarts and she'd done some filling out since her school days. All in all, the whole package was very cute, and Harry figured Ron would have to get it all together if he ever wanted another chance at getting her back.

"Morning Harry. What's up?"

Harry pried the lid off the coffee and took a sip. Hermione riffled through papers as if he never entered the office.

"A couple of things actually, but first – any news with Ron?"

"Yeah, there is!" she said encouragingly. "Got an Owl this morning from Ginny. Apparently Hippocrates has found a treatment that appears to help. He says it was definitely old magic," she added, still sorting the papers.

"Yeah, that's strange," he said. "But it gets me to the first topic..."

"And what's that Harry?" she asked and dropped the papers to level her hazel peepers at him.

He paused for a sip of coffee. "I spoke with Penny Penthane yesterday," he said, curtly.

"And aren't you lucky. What did the two of you ever find to talk about?"

"She said this stranger or stalker looked like he might know old magic, and that she needs protection," he said and took another pull of the Colombian arabica.

"That figures. So whad you tell her?"

"That... as long as long as it helps me find the wizard I'm looking for then it's okay with me."

"You'll have to get that cleared with Kingsley," she said with a little smile.

"Of course. And that's where I'm heading next, but I've got a favor to ask," he asked.

"And what is that?" she asked and wriggled her nose.

"Any chance I could get you back into law enforcement?"

"Oh Harry, don't go there," she said, sullenly.

"I sure could use your help, and it'll be quite some time before Ron gets back," he pleaded.

"I don't know Harry – I mean I'd like to help, but I just joined this department. What would Kingsley think?"

"I'll talk to Kingsley."

"And the office – I refuse to go back to that closet I used before," she added.

"I'll mention that as well. I'm sure we can find something better," he said, encouragingly.

Hermione scratched her head through the thick brown hair. "And if I go back to law enforcement, I'm overdue to start the self-defense training."

"I can help you with that," he said.

"Bollocks – I'll take my chances with Beollan, like everyone else," she said with a little pout.

‡‡‡‡‡

Tracy Tolley and Harry almost ran into one another under the gilded archway. She had a pile of papers in hand and winched as she braced for the collision. Quickly sidestepping the perky blonde, Harry avoided an incident.

"Sorry Tracy," he said as she collected herself.

"Harry – are you here to see Kingsley?"

"Yes, if he's available?" Harry asked.

"I think so," she said and turned on a dime to go back to her desk. Harry suspected Tracy was from a rather well to do wizarding family. She had only been at the Ministry for a few months and already had a collection of colorful and bespoke fitting robes. Hermione, by contrast, worked nearly a year before she could afford the first. Harry doubted Tracy was at the Ministry for the money.

With a magical touch, that only her position entitled, she pressed the lock to Kingsley's office door and unfastened it with a heavy click. She pulled the massive leather padded door open and smiled back at Harry.

"Thanks Tracy," he said and immediately searched the office for the tell tale signs of pipe smoke. There were none, but Kingsley's head shot up to take notice of the young Auror.

"You finally make it in Harry?" he asked rhetorically and motioned for Harry to take the nearby chair.

"Yes sir, I stopped by Hermione's office first. We had a little talk and she told me Ron is doing better," he announced.

"Yes, I had a note of this news this morning," he said and lifted an envelope. "It's damned good to hear."

"Yes sir – very."

"So how'd it go with Penthane – is she still insisting a 'stalker' took out two of our Aurors?"

"I don't think she knows what to believe. She's scared out of her wits and wants protection. I told her we don't do bodyguard work," Harry said firmly.

"So how do we proceed Harry?"

"I explained my goal was to catch this 'stalker' or whatever he is. But it might be a good idea to keep a close eye on her during her London shows. At least that's what I've proposed."

"That's what Ron and Jerry were thinking. It sounds solid enough, but obviously there was something we missed. We'll need to talk to Ron if possible," Kingsley said with a worried look.

"Yes sir, I tried to persuade her into canceling the next show or two until Ron comes around," replied Harry.

"Did she agree?"

"No sir, and she was very firm on it," Harry said as he shook his head.

"Well, it's her pretty neck..."

"How much time can I give this job sir?" Harry asked gingerly and Kingsley laughed.

"What – are the crosswords piling up?"

"No sir, I just meant to ask how much of my time should I budget on this case?" Harry replied defensively.

"Until we hear from Ron or get something we can rely on, don't promise her anything more than you already have. I know you're a hell of a wandslinger Harry, but you could be wandering into the same situation Jerry and Ron fell into and I don't like it. Matter of fact, I'm thinking you should take Beollan along until we know what's going on," he said and pointed his pipe stem at Harry to emphasis the point.

Harry chuckled at Kingsley's suggestion. "I guess we could do that. He might like a rock concert."

"Well laugh if you want to – just remember Jerry and Ron. You think they're laughing now?"

This rare bluntness of Kingsley's wiped away Harry's smile and he shook his head in agreement. It was just the mustachioed image of Beollan at a rock concert that had him tickled.

"One more thing sir. I need Hermione back," Harry added with a solemn expression.

"Don't we all. Still can't imagine why she would transfer to that damned department for the protection of magical creatures or whatever in the hell it is," he said angrily.

"She's considering coming back sir, but she wants a bigger office," Harry injected.

"I think we can arrange that. I'll see what I can find," he said and reached for the pipe. "So when's Penny's next show?" Kingsley asked while dipping the pipe bowl into a pouch of tobacco.

"This weekend sir."

"Do you have any plans before then," he asked slyly.

"Yes sir – thought I'd seek an audience with the Crab Man," Harry quickly replied.

"That old geezer in Knockturn Alley – you think he'll see you?"

"He owes us a favor – all I can do is try. I'll ask around."

Finally, Kingsley broke into a laugh. "Well good luck with that."

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