Harry Potter and the Wizards of Malta
Chapter 9.
Regaining corporeal form on the small platform under the canal bridge, Harry paused a moment to give his senses time to acclimate before gingerly climbing the stone stairway to the walkway above. There was a couple under the bridge so engaged he didn't think they noticed him. He earned more odd looks as he entered the street from the partially hidden stairway. He was still over a block away from the 'square', which was a large grassy area, the size of a football pitch, encircled by walkways. Several paths fanned out from the square to the museums.
After checking the Van Gogh, the Stedelijk and doubling back to hit the Rijksmuseaum last, he had seen nothing of Penny and her two side-kicks. The most frustrating thing about it was, he didn't really expect to find them there, but he was compelled to begin in the Museum Quarter where he last saw them. He remembered the crack Jimbo made about going to the Red Light district and the more he thought about it, the more he felt they had ventured off in that direction. He could check the hotel once more and if the trio was still missing, he'd get a travel brochure and map of the Red Light district.
Concentrating on the hotel roof, he forced himself to focus until he began spinning through a rubber tube to settle on the roof only a moment later. The roof access door was still unlocked and he made his way very quickly to Penny's suite. Banging on her door – there was still no answer.
Back down the lift to the front desk and almost out of breath, he caught the desk attendant before she could disappear.
"Excuse me."
"Yes," the female attendant said, noticing his impatience. "Can I help you."
"I'm Harry Potter – security with the band. Has Miss Penthane left any word for me?"
She quickly looked in a basket on the desk and checked her computer.
"No sir – none that I can find," she said, apologetically.
"Did she leave word any at all?"
"I'm sorry sir." she said, slowly shaking her he head. "I can't help you."
"You look lost Potter!"
Harry snapped around to see Ace Varney with one of the girls in the orchestral backup.
"Ace, have you see anything of Penny?" Harry asked with a touch of desperation.
Ace stopped to give the question his full attention, and then slowly shook his head.
"Sorry mate – haven't seen anything of her. Is there a problem?"
"No – probably not – just don't know where she got off to," Harry said and clenched his jaw.
"Well, you're security mate," he said with a grin. "I'm sure you'll find her," he added and slapped Harry on the shoulder for consolation and scurried off toward the revolving door.
The desk clerk was still trapped behind the desk with a helpless look on her face.
"Can you call me a taxi?" Harry asked the girl.
"I think there's a taxi out front now sir," she said while craning her neck toward the front to verify.
"Thanks," he replied and followed Ace through the still spinning door.
Just as the girl promised, there was a black taxi just off the main entrance.
The driver reached behind him and opened the rear door as soon as he saw Harry approach the taxi.
"Good evening sir – where to?"
"Well, I've got a little problem. I think I've lost some friends in the red-light district."
"Where in the red-light district?" he asked.
"I don't where they are – we'll have to find them," Harry replied. He could see the driver pull a face in the mirror.
"The red-light district is pretty big sir," he explained.
"Yeah, I know, but we'll look just the same," he said, patiently.
The driver's picture was hanging just below the passenger side visor. The name under the picture read 'Rodrigo'.
"They're tourists – probably just looking around the normal sights," added Harry.
"Yes sir – but all of the Red-Light district is full of tourists at night."
Harry knew very little about the red-light district except what he'd read in the book borrowed from Hermione. Mary Ann had referred to it as a decadent area of the city. Apparently it was where everything and anything went down on a regular basis. The taxi driver didn't seem too happy about earning a fare in this part of town. As they neared the district, the only roads in this old section of the city were little alleys on either side of the canals. Rodrigo was right, the streets were packed with gawking tourists drifting along the store fronts to check out the tawdry sights.
Like a swimming Salmon, the taxi was headed upstream into a swarm of revelers and barely making any progress at all. You couldn't see more than a few paces ahead and the crowd behind would quickly fill in the wake behind the vehicle.
Along the streets on the other side of the canal is where Harry had the best view.
"If you see a big clown in a yellow print shirt, please yell," Harry instructed Rodrigo from the painful image of Jimbo's shirt.
"No problem," Rodrigo answered.
They crept along for nearly fifteen minutes with no sign of Penny or any hooded wizards.
"We'll have to turn up ahead – by the bridge," said the driver.
"Good – the other side looks better," Harry said while still searching the streets. The taxi crossed the canal bridge and the driver began to make a left turn back on the street they had been watching from the other side.
"Wait," Harry said and he looked to the right.
"There's nothing down there sir."
Harry had seen a flash of light that didn't fit the surroundings. It looked like a small lighting strike, the telltale signature of a curse.
"Yeah I know, but let's go anyway," he instructed.
"It's a waste of time, but it's your money," the driver said and with a look of a annoyance.
Suddenly, the last thing he wanted to see came clearly into view. Jimbo and Penny were standing defensively against a building. Harley was on the ground and three cloaked wizards were slowly easing toward them.
"Stop – right here," Harry said and reached in his pocket for a twenty Euro note. He gave the note to the driver and started out the door.
"That's not enough for the fare – we've been at it for forty minutes," he said angrily.
"Go back to the hotel. The desk can make arrangements for your money," Harry said, never taking his eyes off the scene.
The driver began to argue.
"It's going to get nasty here in just a moment – NOW GO," Harry yelled and slammed to the door shut. The driver shook his head and accelerated across the bridge and Harry backed into the shadows while never taking his eyes off Penny and the three wizards.
Only a moment after the car was out of sight, Harry saw Jimbo reaching for a weapon under the long yellow shirttail. Before Jimbo could clear the weapon, a white hot curse hit him in the chest a second later. The effects of the stunning curse knocked the big man backwards and he tumbled to his back. With wands extended the other two wizards were moving toward Penny. She was clutching the brown leather journal and trying to back into the wall.
It was not always possible to apparate into a spot and end up facing the right direction, but that might be his only chance to intervene before this was over. With both wands in hand, he focused very hard on a spot between two wizards and the pulled the apparition trigger.
When he landed with a zip and a pop, he was close enough to the first wizard that the force of air blew open his cloak. He hit the wizard between the wide open eyes and gaping mouth with a stunning curse. In the next tempo he caught the second wizard in the chest as the man was turning to face him. Already, and quicker than expected, from the wand of the last wizard was a green jet coming out of the tip of his wand. He had to flinch hard with a cross-over to get back on-line in time to parry the killing curse.
"EXPELLIARMUS," he shouted, to strengthen the spell, and the curse was almost upon him before he got the word out of his mouth. The two curses met with a huge slap and explosion of light. Harry beat back the green jet for a few seconds then deflected the killing curse skyward. He then reached over with the free wand and hit the man with a pissed-off stunning curse. The hooded wizard went tumbling backwards with a somersault and fell into a heap.
Quickly, he walked over to each man, ready for any surprise maneuvers, he kicked each wizards wand free of their hands. There would no repeat of his mistake with the last wizard. Tonight he would get some questions answered.
"Incarcerous," he conjured, and the vines of the curse erupted from the wand tip to completely wrap the wizard. He turned toward the first wizards he hit and repeated the whole process until all were secured. With the wizards completely wrapped in the vines of the curse he turned toward Penny. She was still backed against the wall, breathing deep breaths now and still clutching the journal tightly to her bosom.
"Well," she said exhaled the huge breath. "I'm damn glad you showed up."
"You okay?" he asked and Penny nodded quick little nods. "What about Harley?"
"Stunning spell I think – he's out cold though."
"I think Jimbo got the same."
"Yes," she said, solemnly.
He looked over to the last wizard he hit. He was awake and struggling against the vines of the Incarcerous curse.
"Well," Harry said. "Since you like to throw killing curses, we'll start with you."
The wizard let out a long breath but said nothing.
"Do you want what your friend got? Or will you talk?"
"You killed Menteith?"
"Was that his name?" asked Harry and the wizard and shook his head. "He killed himself. But you won't – you've no wand."
"What do you want?" the wizard asked, talking through his teeth.
"To know what it is you want!" Harry said with a wave of the wand.
"We're a friend of Lasaurus. We work for him – that's all I can say."
"So what does he want – this friend of yours?" demanded Harry.
"What is his!"
"I'm sorry – you'll have to be a little more specific than that," Harry said, raising the black wand. "Especially when you throw killing curses."
The man's eyes widened with anger and fear.
Harry pointed the wand at the man's head. "Did you fight two Aurors in London?" he asked and walked menacing around the figure laying on the cobblestone street.
The wizard lay stone still and quiet.
"CRUCI..."
"HARRY," screamed Penny. "It's Police... they're coming!"
Harry jerked around to look up the alley. Two small cars with flashing blue lights were tearing down the narrow street.
"We've got to get out of here," Penny yelled and stuffed the journal into her waistband.
"We've got to get them together," he said, looking down at Harley and then Jimbo.
"Well, grab Harley," Penny said and reached for a leg. Together they began to drag Harley over to Jimbo.
"Grab their hands," Harry instructed. "They won't be able to help so hold on tight."
With blue lights almost on top of them, Penny dropped to her knees and picked up Jimbo's and Harley's lifeless hands to join them with hers. Harry dropped down to grab the two guards and complete the circle. With the two police cars coming to a stop, all four began spinning through a spiraling tube of apparition.
They quickly came to rest on the roof of the Grand Hotel Krasnapolsky. The long hot drought conditions were finally over and the rain was coming down in a light sprinkle. The drizzling rain was waking Harley. Jimbo was mostly still out of it, but beginning to move.
They roused the groggy pair and helped down the stairs to their adjoining suite off of Penny's room.
"What the bloody fuckin hell was that," Jimbo finally managed to ask. Harley was shaking his head but appeared happy to be back in his room.
"I thought we were dead," he said and plopped down in the bed, reaching for his head.
Harry motioned to leave and the two quietly left Jimbo and Harley to themselves. Penny unlocked her door with a key-card she produced from one of the jean pockets.
"I guess you'll want to talk about this," she said with a sullen look.
"Yes."
"Well, I need a change. What about you?" she asked as Harry took off the brown zip jacket and hung it on the back of a chair at the bar.
"Just a towel."
"Sure," she said and disappeared to return with a fluffy white towel. "Be back in a minute."
With a fresh outfit and her hair tied behind her in a plait, she looked all new and refreshed like nothing had happened.
"You feel like going down for coffee?" he asked, hoping to get out of her room and look for something in the lobby.
She nodded, "Yeah that'll work."
The only place open was the bar. They found an isolated table in the corner. They appeared to be the only guests drinking coffee. A few were smoking, which was not considered as offensive in Amsterdam as it would be in cities elsewhere.
"Look – Harry, I'm sorry about this," she said. Harry shook his head and said nothing. "I know I shouldn't have gone out without telling you. And walking around at night was probably the last thing to do."
"You could have been killed. I was lucky to find you when I did."
"How did you find us?"
"I saw you from a taxi across the canal. Are you going to be doing this kind of thing again? If you are..." he stopped in mid-sentence and looked away.
"I knew you were angry with me, and I didn't want to bother you today," she said and cupped her hand over his. "But I admit – walking the red-light at night was pretty brainless. It won't happen again – I promise."
"Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure. What if they send more next time?"
"Damn, I don't know Harry, you handled yourself pretty good back there."
"Penny – are you listening?"
"Yeah I hear you – and it won't happen again. But, I'm curious now – just how many could you handle Harry?" she asked and rolled the corner of her mouth in a wry grin.
He paused but didn't answer at first.
"It depends – on how the conflict starts. Everything depends on the start," he said and reflected. " As for the number... that's confidential. Besides, it doesn't matter. I don't want to have to run you down again. Are you good with this?" he asked firmly as he looked deeply into silvery grey eyes.
"Yes, of course Harry," she said and Harry continued to look her in the eye for any hint of deception. Her gaze was solid and reassuring.
"There won't be a next time," she added, "and I'm thinking of canceling the remaining shows."
"What, just pick up stakes and head to Rome?"
"Yeah," she said with a sharp nod and looked off into space.
‡‡‡‡‡
All of Amsterdam awoke the next morning to a deluge of rain and cool wind. The hot dry spell that had swept across all of Europe was finally over. With a light rain beating against the window, it took all the strength Harry could muster to get out of bed.
Throwing on a terrycloth gown and dragging toward the shower, he noticed an envelope had been slid under the door. He went back to the bedside table for his glasses and tore open the note. He walked over to the window for enough light to read.
Good morning to the band and crew:
Due to circumstances outside our control
We'll be ending our shows in Amsterdam.
So brush up on your Italian. We should be in
Rome by early tomorrow morning.
Have your bags outside your door by 5 pm.
We'll be catching a late flight out tonight and
I look forward to seeing you in Rome tomorrow.
Penny.
There was a personal note inside the note. It Read:
Harry,
I'd like you to take the flight, rather than just showing
up at the hotel like you did the last time.
Thanks,
Penny
Harry didn't mind the flight; it felt good to be leaving Amsterdam, one way or the other. Too many hooded wizards. He looked out over the city and the steady rain. Now – what in the hell to do until the evening flight? Without a clue, he threw the note on the table and headed for the shower.
The breakfast queue was still in place as the hour neared nine. He looked around for Mary Ann but didn't see a hair of her cute bushy head. He ordered simple and rushed through the queue. In a far corner of the garden room, Ace, Beatty, and a few backup band members were gathered around a large table. Not really feeling like a part of the band, he found a small table by the door with a copy of the Times left behind.
Somewhere between the poached egg and the melon slice, Penny entered the room followed by her dutiful entourage. She was wearing the large Ray-Bans and Harley and Jimbo both looked like hell. She looked over to notice Harry and gave him one of those cute finger waves. Giving her a casual nod of recognition, he went back to focusing on the melon slice. He had hoped for another cup of coffee before he left, but getting a waiter to the table at this hour of the morning was damned near impossible.
At a small gift shop in the lobby, he browsed for something to help kill a day. The magazines were all in the wrong language. There was a small selection of books that might contain something readable, he thought. After a long search, he settled on Blue at the Mizzen by Patrick O'Brian. He wasn't quite sure why he picked this one, it just looked to be a literary standout from the rest of the pulp on the top ten shelf.
‡‡‡‡‡
Between the Times and the book from the gift shop Harry had managed to avoid boredom for most of the afternoon. For once he had charged his mobile phone and made sure Penny had his number. The heavy rain had subsided to a fine mist and patches of blue sky were beginning to shine through as the coach neared the Schiphol airport.
Being first out the coach door served two purposes: One, as any security person, he could help others off while watching out for trouble. And two: being the last to leave would hide from others the inadequate luggage he had brought along for the trip.
He said a brief hello to Mary Ann. She had been chatting with some other guy on the ride over. Schiphol airport was considered by many to be the airport example for all others to follow. The place was spread out into a number of concourses and terminals like any other, but once inside you had the feeling you were in a shopping mall. He checked baggage and kept his trusty rucksack as carry-on. The customs gate was closer to their terminal than most airports and the queue was shorter than expected.
Flashing his credentials wallet, he breezed through security and made his way toward terminal D, Gate 12. The motorized walkway wasn't a necessity but was loads of fun if you walked with it to increase your speed. Remembering to stop walking before reaching the end of the walkway he got off without looking like a total klutz. He spotted Mary Ann and her new friend browsing one of the shops full of electronic gadgets.
Ignoring all the shopping possibilities in this concourse, Harry went directly to the gate and found a seat that afforded him a view of his gate and several others. Somewhere in the middle of Blue at the Mizzen, he remembered a lecture and exercise from Ms Rosemarkie. She was an instructor at the Ministry and after Harry joined the special branch, she'd been a part of his regular training regime. Sometimes a very scathing woman, she had been both a blessing and a curse.
It was Harry's job after joining the special branch of the Auror service to bring enemies of the Ministry to justice, no matter where they might be hiding on the planet.
'You're swimming through a sea of Muggles.' She would often say. Everything she said or taught was aimed at getting you to understand that wizards stood apart from Muggles. To further handicap your situation, wizards naturally spent too much time looking for other wizards in this occupation. It's all very unnatural and easy to spot if you know what to look for.
The exercise Ms Rosemarkie devised was one that involved an airport terminal and gate very much like the one they were in. The exercise involved two candidates. Each was told to spot a wizard waiting in the gating area. As an advantage they would stand behind a curtain and watch the waiting area through a small hole.
The next exercise was a little tougher. You had to sit in the waiting area and try and guess who the other candidate was without being caught first.
Of course the exercise was a switch with each candidate getting his turn behind the curtain. But it worked all the same. People generally wrap themselves in a bubble while waiting. Some will sit facing the concourse walkway and watch the walkers go by – mostly men watching the women, but nevertheless they're in a bubble all the same. Children will play along the windows while watching the big planes. Some people will toy with their smart phones, read books or kindles, play with i-pads, talk to a friend or spouse. Some are nervous about flying and try and lose themselves in some activity to forget, but they don't forget and the nervousness will show.
Of course it was a cinch to spot the wizard candidate. It was obvious his attention was not confined to any bubble. Every few minutes or so, he would reposition himself to get a different look at another section of the waiting area. Every few seconds he would look around, never in the same direction, and then go back to the magazine. It had been an illuminating exercise.
Thank you Ms Rosemarkie. Unless he was greatly mistaken, sitting a few aisles over was a pretty witch. She was quite distracted by a child's small remote control toy. Harry liked to call that the 'Rubber Duck Syndrome', named of course after Arthur Weasley's famous question at the Burrow many years ago.
'Now, here's the rub,' Ms Rosemarkie would say. 'The witch or wizard you've spotted may be a decoy. The one you're after may be hiding in the crowd and watching you watching them. So don't stare and be a victim of the same game. Don't make it obvious you've found another magical being.'
Trying not to pay too much attention to the woman he'd identified as a witch, Harry played out a deadly scenario in his mind. And it worked out like this: another wizard hiding in the gate area had spied him watching the pretty witch who was a decoy. There would be several hours before the boarding began for his flight. When he finally got up to go to the men's room his enemy would follow him. It would be the last piss he would ever take.
Paranoia? Perhaps, but Ms Rosemarkie would flay his skin for not considering the possibility of such a thing. But who was the witch? Was she a friend of this mysterious order? If she was that would make her a threat to him and to Penny.
As casually as possible, he would occasionally lift his eyes from the book. The woman was dressed in smart business attire, with a dark blue skirt, and matching blue jacket over a powder blue blouse. She wore black heels of a modest height and thin rimmed glasses. She was clutching a black leather portfolio in her lap and looking around occasionally with nervous anticipation. He studied the lapel area of her jacket but could see no evidence of the tell-tale protrusion of a wand.
Making a show of looking at his watch and checking the mobile phone, he got up from the chair and stretched a bit. Moving diagonally across the gating area he went into a men's shop he had seen earlier. Browsing through a clothing rack that faced the gate area, he looked back at the woman for any clue. She was still seated in the same position as before and clutching the leather portfolio.
Leaving the men's shop, he paused by a booth, selling tempting refreshments. He ordered a soft drink and set down at a small table, still facing gate 12. A few band members began filing into the area. The woman in question looked up to take notice of every one of them entering the area. With only thirty minutes until they were scheduled to board the flight, time was running out. He rolled several plans around in his head but every one of them required the help of another woman or witch. Damn-it – where was Hermione when you needed her.
There was no way he could confront the woman in the gating area. If she would only leave the room. If she would visit the ladies lavatory that might offer up a curious opportunity. Now entering the gate area were two generous sized policemen. The woman got up to meet the policemen by the desk of the boarding agent. The trio chatted for a minute or two, that seemed like hours.
Coming down the terminal walkway was Penny with the oversized Ran-Bans. Jimbo and Harley were in tow with Penny's carry-on bags thrown over their shoulders. The woman in question looked around the broad shoulders of the policemen to point at Penny. Still without a plan, he decided to see how things would play out before acting. The woman was saying something to Penny, that sounded like: 'Electra Penthane? I'm sorry but you'll have to come with me.' Penny was responding and throwing her arms out helplessly as if to say: 'Like hell – I've got a plane to catch.'
Harley and Jimbo were more than evenly matched by the two oversized Policemen. It was time to join the party. Tossing the drink in a dustbin along the way, he meandered through the gate area and approached the woman from behind.
"What's going on here?" he asked and displayed his U.K. NCIS credentials for all to see.
"We're being detained Harry," Penny spit out the reply.
The woman immediately turned around to check out Harry from head to toe.
"And you look like the other one we're after," she said at length.
"Other one? What are you talking about?"
"We can speak in a room down there," she said and looked down the concourse.
The first passengers were being called to board the plane.
"We have a plane to catch," Harry reiterated.
The woman looked over to another gate opposite from theirs. She nodded slightly, and a tall slender man stood up and weaved his way toward them, carrying a rolled newspaper he was swatting against his thigh.
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A/N: Up to this point Harry, possibly with issues, had been rather cold and automatic. Not, that that's all bad for a guy in his occupation, but it's probably not the best for fanfiction. The story will get a little more emotional and saucier shortly, I promise.
Thanks for reading and remember to review...