Disclaimer: Uh . . . do I have to say that it's illegal in most of the world?

A Diplomatic Affair Expanded

"Hello Minerva."

"Headmaster."

"I apologize for interrupting your class like this but I'm afraid I'm going to have to borrow Mr. Potter for a bit."

"You're excused from class Mr. Potter," Minerva warmed a bit to say. "I'm sure Ms. Granger will be kind enough to let you see her notes and to pick up your homework."

"Of course I will Professor McGonagall," Hermione agreed quickly.

"Go on Mr. Potter."

Harry got up out of his chair and walked out of the room. "What's this about sir?"

"You are aware of the fact that I hold a number of positions both here and abroad?"

"Yes?"

"Have you wondered why I never chose to exert my influence as the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards to help our cause?"

"I always assumed that . . . yes sir."

"It's ok to doubt me Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "I understand that your friend Ron thinks that I'm completely off my rocker."

"Yes sir."

"The truth is that the International Confederation of Wizards sounds very impressive, but has little actual power." Dumbledore sighed. "Especially now that the majority of its members . . . former members rather have chosen to leave it. At the moment, it's little more then a grouping of european countries and a few former colonies that have chosen to stay out of respect to their former masters."

"What's this all have to do with me sir?"

"Harry . . . you realise how extraordinary your survival was do you not?"

"Bloody boy who lived," Harry muttered in disgust.

"Precisely," Dumbledore agreed. "I hate to ask you, but your fame could open several doors that have been closed off for centuries in some cases. Harry . . . earlier today I received an invitation to a diplomatic function in the Sultanate of Doha."

"So?"

"So it stated that I was only welcome if I came as your guest," Dumbledore explained. "It is your decision of course but . . ."

"I'll do it," Harry said firmly. "What do I have to do?"

"Just mingle," Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes. "I'll take care of the rest."

"Yes sir, will everyone speak English?"

"There will be a charm put up to allow mutual comprehension," Dumbledore said dryly. "Though I'm told that it sometimes makes . . . odd errors in translation so do not take anything you hear too seriously."

"I understand, should I change into my formal robes?"

"Yes you should," Dumbledore agreed. "As should I come to think of it, meet me in the great hall when you've finished."

Harry walked back to his dorm and grabbed a quick shower before changing and rejoining the Headmaster in the great hall.

"Ready Harry?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." He handed Harry a long wrapped object. "Put this on and we can be on our way."

"The sword of Gryffindor?" Harry asked in shock.

"You earned the right to wear it Harry," Dumbledore explained. "Now shall we go?"

"Yes sir." Harry quickly buckled on the sword and touched the portkey.

They appeared in front of an unpleasant looking man.

"Name?" He asked flatly.

"Harry Potter."

"Ah Mr. Potter, so good of you to accept our invitation."

"Thank you."

"Harry Potter and Guest," the man announced. "Go right in Mr. Potter." He motioned Harry towards a large opening that seemed to hang in the air.

Harry walked in and was dazzled by the sheer number of people and by their odd outfits. Drifting over to the punch bowl, Harry poured himself a drink and watched the crowd.

"Excuse me."

"Yes sir?" Harry replied. He turned to find an asian gentleman giving him an unreadable look.

"Do you know how to use that sword on your hip?"

"No sir."

"Then why are you wearing it?" He demanded.

"Because it saved my life."

"I see," the man seemed to calm. "My name is Ichiro Yamamoto."

"Harry Potter."

"Could you explain how it saved your life?"

"I stabbed it through the roof of a snake's mouth," Harry said. "It was mostly luck and I had a lot of help."

"What kind of snake?" Ichiro asked professionally. "And how large?"

"A basilisk," Harry said. "Not sure how large it was, I'm sure it looked bigger then it was and I wasn't in any condition to take measurements after the fight was over with."

"I understand, may I see the blade?"

Harry carefully drew the blade and held it flat on his hands for the man to take.

"Good steel," he said after a moment of examination. "A bit gaudy but functional."

"It is that," Harry agreed. "I . . . how'd you do that?" Harry asked in shock, the sword had shifted to more functional and less ascetic form.

"I suspect it was acting on your desire," Ichiro replied. "Take your sword back Harry."

"Thank you sir."

"Ichiro."

"Ichiro then."

"Would you like to learn to use this blade? To bring it honor in battle?"

"I would," Harry allowed. "But I'm not sure how I'd go about it."

"I have a gift that would help you learn," Ichiro said with a smile. "And in taking it you would be doing me a great favor."

"It's not dangerous is it?"

"Not to you," Ichiro said quickly. "But it could be to those that wish you harm."

"And it would be doing you a favor?" Harry felt that he should consult with Dumbledore before making any agreements, but it seemed harmless enough.

"You would."

"Then I accept, thank you sir."

"Thank you Harry," Ichiro said with a large grin. "So where are you from?"

"The United Kingdom," Harry said. "England to be precise."

"Really? I hear it rains there quite a bit."

"Sometimes," Harry agreed with a laugh. "What about your home? Where are you from?"

"I am from the nation of Nippon, Daimyo of a small and out of the way Provence of no consequence."

"I'd like to see it some day," Harry said suddenly. "I've never left the United Kingdom before today and I'd love to do some traveling."

"Of course you shall visit it one day," Ichiro said quickly. "You are welcome to visit at any time and I will be happy to offer hospitality, humble though it may be."

"I wish I could offer the same," Harry said weakly. "But I don't even have a humble home, I'd be happy to show you around if they let me though."

"Thank you Harry, I shall keep that in mind. Have you had a chance to meet our host the Sultan of Doha?"

"Not yet."

"Then come with me, he's a friend of mine and would be delighted to hear the story of what happened with the snake. I'd like to hear a few of the details too come to think of it."

Harry spent the rest of the night telling and being told stories of adventure and misfortune and before he knew it, the party was winding down and Dumbledore was at his elbow.

"Time to go Harry."

"Yes sir," Harry agreed.

"All in all I believe that it was a successful night," Dumbledore said thoughtfully. "I received some promising leads anyway."

"Good."

"Come with me, we have one more thing to do before we can return to Hogwarts."

"What's that?'

"Our host will present us with a small gift, something to remember the night."

"Oh."

"The important thing is to accept the gift and thank the host for the thought," Dumbledore continued. "Rejecting it would be a rather large insult."

"I understand sir."

"Good, this way Harry." They walked towards the door and Harry could see the servants passing small boxes to the guests as they left.

"Leaving Harry?" A man a few years older then Harry asked as they approached the door.

"Yeah Aliyy," Harry agreed. "It was a great party though."

"Your highness," Dumbledore said in shock. "I apologize for the familiar way he addressed you."

"Harry is a friend of mine," the Sultan said coldly. "And I would appreciate it if you did not interrupt our conversation."

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed quickly.

"So Harry, I understand that Ichiro gave you a rather impressive gift?"

"I suppose," Harry agreed. "He said it would be helpful in learning how to use the sword."

"I'm sure," Aliyy said with a smile. "And as he did it at my party, I can not allow him to upstage me." He gave a signal and one of the servants presented Harry with a jeweled bottle. "Treat her well, she is a bit strong willed and willful, but she has a good heart."

"Ok," a rather confused Harry agreed.

"Thank you Harry," the Sultan said with a smile. "Now if you will excuse me, I have something I must attend to personally."

"Goodbye Aliyy," Harry said to his friend.

"You never fail to amaze me Harry," Dumbledore said to himself. "Come Harry, we must be going." They stepped outside and Dumbledore held out a portkey. "Alright," he said after Harry had taken hold. "In three . . . two . . . one . . ." they reappeared in the Headmaster's office and Dumbledore turned to Harry with a smile. "Do you know what you've done Harry?"

"I . . ."

"You've single handedly done more in a short party then I've managed to do in years of trying," the old man was overjoyed. "Have you given any thought to a future career?"

"Not really," Harry answered honestly, "I thought maybe I could be an Auror."

"Well . . . perhaps you should give some thought to becoming a diplomat as well," Dumbledore suggested, "graduation from the Auror's academy would not hinder that career path and I dare say it could aid it."

"I'll think about it sir," Harry muttered.

"That's all I ask," Dumbledore said happily, "tired?"

"A bit."

"Then why don't you go to bed," he said in a grandfatherly tone, "and take tomorrow off if you like."

"Thank you sir," Harry said as he left, "I'll take you up on that . . . for the morning anyway."

Belatedly, Dumbledore realized that Harry's first class of the day was Double Potions with Slytherin House. "I'll never get those two to put aside their differences if they avoid each other like that," Dumbledore sighed, "perhaps I could arrange some sort of extra lessons?"

Harry ignored his fellow house mates as he walked through the common room and went to bed. Who knew a party could take so much energy? Harry thought as he closed his eyes and went to sleep.

Harry awoke the next morning and was momentarily confused by the extra lump he found in his arms. "The bottle Aliyy gave me?" Harry asked dumbly. "Must have taken it to bed with me," he carefully put it on his bedside table. "But I could have sworn . . . ah well, glad it didn't get damaged." Noticing a bit of dust on the gift, Harry reached up to brush it off but froze when his stomach rumbled. "Breakfast first then," he said to himself. "I'll clean you up later." He felt foolish speaking to the object but consoled himself with the fact that there were no witnesses.

The bottle seemed to blush as Harry left but as his back was to it, the boy failed to notice the odd sight.

Harry got to the Great Hall just as breakfast was winding to a close.

"You'd better eat fast," Hermione advised, "we have Potions in fifteen minutes."

"I'm excused from classes today," Harry muttered.

"You did get in rather late," Hermione mused, "what did Dumbledore want you for?"

"We went to a party in Dubai," Harry replied with a yawn, "he's trying to get some of the other countries to help us with Voldemort and he needed me to get an invitation."

"Why'd he need you?" Ron asked with a confused frown.

"Cause his titles don't mean much outside Europe," Harry replied, "and I'm the 'boy-who-lived' everywhere."

"Oh . . . so how was the party?"

"Spent most of the time hanging out in the corner with a couple people," Harry replied.

"Still don't like crowds?" Hermione asked sympathetically.

"Yeah," Harry agreed.

"Don't worry about it mate," Ron said with a grin, "people suck."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed, "don't feel bad about it Harry."

"Thanks guys."

"And if you like," Ron continued, "we can skivv off on classes too."

"We most certainly can not," Hermione said in outrage, "school is important . . . unless you want us to Harry," she added hesitantly.

"I'll be fine," Harry said, ignoring Ron's hopeful look. "Thanks guys." Harry walked back to his room and climbed into bed for a few more hours of sleep. Glancing up at the bottle, he remembered his 'promise' and rubbed off the dust before dropping his arm and going to sleep. Had he stayed awake for just a couple more seconds, he would have beheld the odd sight of pink smoke pouring out of the bottle.

The smoke formed into a young girl who studied Harry with a blush on her face. "He isn't too bad I suppose," she mused, "better then some smelly goat hearder."

"Who is you?" Dobby demanded. "You must not harm Harry Potter sir."

"Where did you come from?" She asked in surprise.

"Dobby always collects Harry Potter sir's laundry at this time," the house elf replied. "Who is you?"

"I'm his new genie," she explained. "I'm here to ensure his happiness."

"So . . . so you is Harry Potter sir's servant?" Dobby asked in excitement.

"I am," the girl confirmed. She figured that was one way to explain her position.

"Oh Dobby knew that Harry Potter sir was a great and powerful wizard," Dobby cheered. "Finally others is realizing this."

"You wish to be his servant also?"

"Dobby's not worthy," the young elf cried. "Dobby's not worthy."

"I think the three of us should talk then," another voice said from the shadows, "I think we all have something in common."

Harry woke up a few hours later feeling refreshed and relaxed. "Just in time for lunch," he muttered to himself. Harry walked out of the Gryffindor tower and was joined by Hermione on the way to the Great Hall.

"How's your day off?" She asked.

"Great," he replied, "a few extra hours of sleep was exactly what I needed. We gonna wait for Ron?"

"I'm sure he's already in the Great Hall stuffing his face," Hermione said with a giggle, "helps that Divination is closer then the Runes classroom."

"Lucky for him." They rounded the corner and had the misfortune of running into Draco and the idiot duo.

"What's wrong Potter," Draco sneered, "get kicked out of Potions for being too much of an idiot?"

"Just ignore him," Hermione advised. She grabbed Harry's arm and began leading him away from the trio of Slytherins.

"You know," Harry said to her as they walked away, "I'm starting to think I need a better class of school yard nemesis."

"Those insults were rather weak," Hermione agreed, "I'll ask Daphne if she'd like the job when I see her in Runes tomorrow."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry laughed, "a nemesis that can tie their own shoes and read would be a major step up."

"Cirgraaak," Draco screamed.

Harry spun, wand in hand to meet the threat and was shocked to see Draco and his goons in a neat pile on the floor. "What in the . . ."

"Potter," Snape screamed, "I'll have you expelled for attacking your fellow students."

"I didn't do a thing," Harry said as his eyes scanned for threats.

"They're on the ground and your wand is in your hand," Snape sneered. "It's not hard to figure out what happened."

"Shut up," Harry said absently, "I'm trying to listen."

Snape's face became an unhealthy purple color and he began shaking in rage. "You . . ."

"Hear anything Mr. Potter?" McGonagall interrupted.

"No Professor," Harry said, "didn't hear a thing when whatever happened to them uh . . . happened. Just Draco trying to hex me and then he screamed, didn't even hear them fall to the ground."

"Very good Mr. Potter five points for being vigilant. Ms. Granger, five points to Gryffindor for watching Mr. Potter's back." McGonagall said, "carry on then."

"Yes Professor," Harry agreed.

"Thank you Professor," Hermione said happily.

"And Severus," McGonagall said sweetly, "we're going to have to have another little talk about jumping to conclusions."

"Ron's head is going to explode when he hears about that," Hermione giggled as the walked off.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "McGonagall finally puts Snape in his place and he misses it."

AN: Never did care for the way I ended this before and I always did think it had potential to be a fun fic to write.

Omake: Original Ending

Only moments before they disappeared, a dark shape detached itself from the shadows and took hold of the object.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore demanded after they arrived back in his office.

"I am Keiko," the dark shape replied. "Harry-sama's kunoichi."

"Ichiro's gift?"

"Yes."

"Harry," Dumbledore said with a twinkle in his eye. "Uncork that bottle."

Harry followed the Headmaster's instructions and nearly dropped the bottle nearly dropped it when pink smoke came out of it. And his jaw dropped when the smoke coalesced into an attractive young girl.

"What do you wish of me master?"

AN: Lot's of Harry gets a slave type stories, thought I'd have a bit of fun with the concept. Not sure if I'll write more of it, not too happy with the way I ended it.

Omakes on how this would go . . .

"You have to tell her that this wasn't my fault," Harry demanded. "It wasn't even my idea."

"I'm sure Ms. Granger will understand," Dumbledore said with twinkling eyes.

"You don't know what she's like," Harry hissed. "You didn't have to go to any SPEW meetings."

"I understand that Ms. Granger is going to be a bit . . . put out when she finds out what happened. But . . ."

Mini Omake by meteoricshipyards

"Ivan, may I introduce you to Governor Chan Li of the provence of Eastern Mongolia. Li, this is Ivan Dragamilov of the People's Committee on Magical Hazards. He was telling me about how they handled their werewolf problem, and as you were talking about the same thing, I thought he might be able to give you some suggestions..."

Couple omake for Luna Malfoy Lovegood:

OMAKE by meteoricshipyards - the expensive country home

"Good night Lord Black. Lovely party. Mrs. Black. Miss Granger."

The last of the guests walked to the very secure apparition location,

and disapparated. It was the only place on the grounds that anyone

could apparate to or from.

"That was. . . .boring," Harry summed it up.

"Yes, but absolutely necessary," Luna commented.

"I can't believe the amount of magic we used putting this together.

When you said "country manor" I thought of something staid and

stately. Not this. . . " she waved her hand at the rooms visible from

the front door, "this magical funhouse." A table walked up to them

with cups of tea.

"When witches and especially wizards get together, they can't help but

show off. Something in their make up," Luna explained.

Hermione had heard it all before, and had eventually stopped

complaining and joined in created the animated decorations, singing

plants, dancing silverware, the plates that hummed in six part harmony

throughtout the dinner, provided by the army of house elves. The ever

changing colored drinks, the dancing peguins. . . .

"Boss? We's finished cleaning the kitchen," a house elf said to

Hermione. Since she found that she couldn't free the elves, (not even

Dobby was really free. He had found some way to attach himself to

Harry. Truely free elves died, as she knew from poor Winky.) she had

come up with a way to help them -- House Elf Employment Agency: Rent a

House Elf at really good terms. She made sure her elves were well

treated, and they had access to the money the company made. Some were

developing interests in the arts, and could affort their materials

from the "hobby fund". But she wasn't going to have anyone call her

"Mistress" (except Harry and Luna). So "Boss" it was.

"That's fine, Tootie. Get the furniture back to Grimmauld Place and

Potter Manor."

"Yes, Boss!" Soon furniture was disappearing from all over the place.

"I'll be sorry to see this place go," Harry said, whistfully.

"Why? Most of it's cardboard?" Hermione asked.

"Because it was his, in a way that no other place he's ever stayed in

has been his."

"And I conjured most of it. Well, shall we retire to the bunker?"

"I'd be delighted," Luna said, with a fake upper-class accent. She

took one of Harry's arms, while Hermione took the other. They crossed

the grounds to the hidden, cement building built into the side of a

hill.

During the night, Harry had been very energetic describing how

impregnable his new country manor was. With anti-portkey and

anti-apparition wards over the entire estate except for the one small

area near the front door, which could be closed down at a command.

There was a anti-intruder line drawn along the entire property line

making sure no one could cross. There was no floo access yet, and

Harry wasn't sure if he would even hook it up.

Yes, it was very protected against invaders.

An elf popped into the bunker.

"All furniture is out of the manor, Boss. And there are many brooms

heading to the manor."

Harry clicked his finger. "I knew I forgot something when protecting

the house."

"It's a good think the Potter Manor has that protection," Luna giggled

as they watched the swarm of Death Eaters land and rush the house.

"I think they're all inside, Harry," Hermione said, looking through

the night-vision enchanted Omnoculars.

"Anyone want to do the honors?" Harry asked.

"Go ahead, Harry. You know you want to."

"If you insist," he said with a smile. Pressing the big red button,

they watched the faux-country house explode in a hugely satisfying

fireball.

"Shall we go home and get some sleep?"

Luna smiled that smile. "Yes and no."

Omake: Patron of the Arts

By stealacandy

"Okay," said Harry. "Pack'em up, then put up these paintings instead. Really, with the longevity of wizards, you'd think the magical artists would take up the time to actually learn to paint!"

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

"Headmaster. Headmaster! HEADMASTER!" yelled the portrait on Dumbledore's wall, interrupting his sleep.

"Mmrp... lemon sherbert... what?" said Hogwarts's old headmaster, Albus Dumbledore as he rose from his bed.

"Albus, Potter had me removed from my wall in No. 12 Grimauld place!" said Phines Nigellus urgently.

"Me too!" harkened Cruella De-Vil.

"And me!" cried Alphonso Centauri.

"And I was just taken off the wall in Potter Manor!" added a dejected Constantin.

"Huh!" said Alfred from his from on the Headmaster's wall. "I'm still hanging! Yeah! Yeah! Yeah! Take that, Constan! Wait... Oh dear, get off! get off me! Away, I said! Begone!... damn, Dumbledore, the damnable elves just tore me off my perch as well."

"What the bloody hell is going on?" asked a still-sleepy headmaster.

"Language, Albus," admonished Dilly. "You are not so old I can't string you overt my lap and spank your bottom!"

"You can't spank the Headmaster, you don't have a lap, Dilly," said Phines Nigellus. "You are a portrait!"

"But I can still make YOUR bottom red, Phines!" she yelled, and the chase began.

Dumbledore's head began throbbing. He swallowed a lemon drop.

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

Omake 2: Sporting

"I didn't know you were into racing, Harry. Where dod you get such fine horses?"

"I transfigured them," explained Harry.

"Wow! that's great transfiguration work!" said Hermione, admiringly. "What did you transfigure them from?"

"People." said Harry, shortly.

"PEOPLE? HARRY JAMES POTTER! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" yelled the shrewish miss Granger.

"They're just Death Eater, Hermione, relax!" Harry fended her off. "Well, mostly, anyway," he finished.

"What do you mean, Harry?" she asked.

"Well, this one over here-" Harry pointed at a horse trotting around the yard. "-is Vicent Crabb. The brown one over there-" Harry gestured towards the stable's door, "-used to be Blaise Zabini."

"And the alnino one the elves are grooming?" asked HErmione. "Tell me it isn't Draco Malfoy!"

"Oh, no," said Harry, and Hermione sighed in relief – a little. "Draco is no longer a Malfoy, Hermione." HArry explained.

"WHAT?" she screamed. "That's not what I meant, Harry, and you know it! It is Draco, isn't it? By whatever last name he goes these days."

"Well, Ron tried to call him Ferry," said Harry, "because of the episode with the Amazing Bouncing Ferret - but it didn't stick."

"It is Draco!" cried Hermione. "Oh, Harry, how could you?"

"Relax, Hermione," said Harry. "It's not Draco."

Hermione sighed in relief again.

"...it is Colin Creevey." finished Harry.

"WHAT?"

"He pissed me off, you see. Anyway, I'm not only into horse racing," Harry continued, "I'm into hound, and even roosters. Look over there." Harry turned her towards the yard, where she watched what looked like a white pecking hen. "I wanted a rooster, I really did, but Ferry over there is such a chicken."

"Ferry?" said Hermione. "HARRY!!!"

xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx xxx

Okay, that's what I've got. Not much, I know, still, Draco is a chicken, isn't he?

I thought to add Romilda Vain somewhere to this Omake, but then I realized she got lost in time, got pregnant, and gave birth to a little girl. Whom she named Sophia Loren, but that's another matter altogether.