Harry pressed his back against the wall, listening, not hearing anything. He turned around and scaled the pitted limestone wall with ease, up onto the roof of the Zambini manor.

He had decided to forgo his invisibility cloak, as he would have to do a lot of climbing. Instead he had his best disillusionment charm running and he kept low to the roof tiles. Besides – there shouldn't be too many people in the back parts of the mansion tonight – Harry had timed his incursion for the night that the Zambinis were hosting a dinner party (People like the Zambinis hosted a dinner party every week, so it wasn't a long wait).

Once on the roof, Harry took a moment to examine the tree houses through his omnoculars (set for night vision). Both were still tightly shuttered, though there was some smoke rising from the larger one on the left. Unfortunately, the only way in was up the stairs – the way the magic was set up, you couldn't fly up to it.

Moving as quietly as he could on the ceramic roof tiles, Harry lowered himself to the ground and ran around to the back of the staircase. It consisted of individual stair steps floating in midair, spiraling around the tree trunk, with just a rope banister to keep you from falling off.

It was exactly as he had seen in his pigeon-eye view on the the bedroom mirror.

'If I go up that and somebody comes down at the same time, there is no way to avoid bumping into each other.' But that was ok. Harry cast a modified sticking charm onto (and into) his shoes and instead stepped onto the underside of the stairs. He carefully slid his foot forward – as long as he didn't pull directly away, he could slide it freely along the wood plank. Harry slowly began shuffling up the stairs.

It was hard work stepping in reverse to pull himself up with each stair, but it worked without a hitch until he saw a pair of workers dressed in dark, nondescript robes coming down the stairs, each carrying a box that filled their arms.

'Oh, boy!' They were going to bump heads! Harry crouched 'down' and grabbed the step 'under' his feet, scrunching himself up as much as he could. He didn't dare lift his head to see where the workers were, or if they noticed him. 'Please don't look up.'

They didn't – Harry heard them walk on by, one of them snorting quietly.

Once at the top, Harry carefully pulled himself back onto the stairs normal-side up and finate-ed the sticking charm. After checking that his disillusionment was still good, he stepped into the smaller tree house.

Or he was about to, when he heard voices inside – it wasn't as empty as he had thought.

'Now what?' If there was somebody inside, they would see the door opening. Harry glanced around. The tree house had two stories, plus a sort-of tower that was built onto a higher level of the tree. All the windows were closed, as expected. But the the platform that the tree house sat on extended six inches past the walls, creating a narrow ledge. Harry carefully shuffled onto it, digging his fingers into the cracks between the shingles that lined the walls to keep from falling off.

He shuffled until he reached the rope bridge that ran between the two houses. It was short, only 20 feet long, and better yet, the door on the far side was open. Harry darted across, hoping that nobody would step out at the the wrong moment.

The larger tree house was three floors, but the lower two had been hollowed out into one giant room that had multiple cauldrons of potion bubbling away over flames that burned without any fuel, and the paddles mixed the the liquid all by themselves.

And the place stank of potion fumes, which was why the doors were open – to provide a little fresh air for the workers. Harry quickly pulled the top of his shirt up to his nose.

'Hermione was right.' She had been certain that if the Zambinis were making potions on an industrial scale that they would control the process with special wards instead of relying on human workers for everything.

Though there were a pair of workers who walked between the rows of cauldrons, but they looked bored and at least one of them was unsteady on his feet. Harry didn't know if it was from the fumes or if he had been sampling the wares, but he looked set to collapse at any moment.

Harry pulled the out the sketch of the 'Abberley anti-ward' ward that Hermione had created for him and he surreptitiously drew it between two of the cauldrons. According to Hermione, that should cause the magic controlling the brewing to fail. He didn't really need to sabotage the production – he was just digging for information on LeStrange and how he fit into the Death Eater operation – but Blaise was an ass, so Harry wanted to do something to piss him off.

He finished the sketch but unlike normal, didn't put his magic into it, instead letting it slowly charge from the ambient magic coming off of everything in the room.

Satisfied that Zambini would have a little surprise when he went to sell this batch, Harry made his way to the stairs leading up to the top floor, which might have offices and records.

"Hey, who's there?" One of the workers called out as he stepped from a gap a few cauldrons over. Harry whipped around and stupefied him before he could say anything further. He then whirled towards where he remembered the other man being and hit him with a stupefy as well.

"What?" He slurred but didn't collapse – whatever he was on was preventing the stupefy from working - he scrabbled at his side, trying to draw his wand.

"Percutio," Harry cast the piercing hex. Blood spewed from his targets forehead as he collapsed.

"Shit." Harry levicorpus-ed the two bodies into a corner and disillusioned them before running towards the stairs leading upstairs. 'I hope waking up entangled in the arms of a corpse doesn't traumatize that poor bastard too much'. Harry raced out of the room. 'Not my problem'. He alohomora-ed open the only door he could see, only to find more stairs leading up – was there another floor that he had missed? Harry took the steps two at a time – he was on a time limit now.

Upstairs was an office, but no papers were out and all of the filing cabinets had magical locks that made the drawer into an immovable part of the cabinet. Harry checked the desk – it was locked too.

Not that it would prove to be any challenge – amateurs never thought things through.

'Lets start with the fun stuff first - the drawer will have more esoteric things, items that show the owner's personality.' Harry lay down under the desk and, holding up the center of the drawer with one hand, used the other to direct a cutting charm that precisely separated the bottom of the drawer from the rest of the desk. Except it wasn't the drawer – it was a thin compartment that had barely enough room for the notebook resting in it.

Harry couldn't help grinning. 'The idiot put a hidden compartment in a locked drawer that you can't opened by normal means.' He riffled through it – it had a list of dates and names, followed by notes or possible other names

A name caught his attention: Helen O'Conner. It was followed by note 'Mawu'. 'It must be some sort of code or short hand.' Harry shrank the journal and slipped it into his pocket, jostling the desk in the process. A short stubby wand fell out of the hole – it must have been resting on the remaining lip. As it fell, Harry instinctively grabbed it. 'Uh, oh'. He paused, but nothing bad happened, so he gave it a closer examination - it was the same sort of device as Alex had had in his safe. Harry held up the cut-out piece of drawer and reparo-ed it back in place.

Harry repeated the procedure with the top of the filing cabinet, taking it off like a lid so he could riffle through the papers inside. They were professionally organized, but all they listed were deliveries of ingredients and other semi-legitimate records – there were no customers records. The few papers that referred to customers just referred to them by a number. Without a master list showing who was who, none of them were useful.

'Huh. So he's not a total idiot.' Harry snagged the the payroll records – most of the people would be small fry: either petty criminals or laborers who didn't mind shady work if the pay was good. But at least these weren't in code, and maybe one of them would know something.

Harry sealed up the filing cabinet as well and quickly made his way to the tree-house door. But as he arrived, he saw a guard trudging his way up the stairs

'I hope the magic only prevents people from flying up to the tree-house, not falling from it.' Harry cast a weak levecorpus spells and stepped off the edge, drifting down like a leaf. It was only as he was drifting down that he realized that several of the guards and other staff were having their own party back behind the trees, and he was drifting straight towards their cookout.

*UHD*

Daphne arrived with Alex to the Zambini dinner party, "Why am I here?" She asked. Or she would have, but she knew – she was there as eye candy, to chat up and distract Zambini and put him in a good mood so that Alex could get better terms from him on whatever deal he was here to negotiate. 'It would be nice if he actually came out and said it, once. "Hey, babe. I need you to seal the deal.' It wouldn't change anything that I do, but would it kill him to treat me like a real person?'

When they went inside, the party was worse than she expected. The atmosphere was stiff and formal, even by pureblood standards, and Harry was right when he insisted that most purebloods were born with a stick up their ass. She forced down the small smile that tried to escape at the thought of Harry. 'This is not the place or the time.' Though it was almost NEVER 'the time' – Harry had been visiting less and less frequently. It had been a month since she had last had any time with him. 'Maybe I should visit him…' Though the logistics of that were a nightmare – nowadays, not only were the paparazzi watching her, but also the Aurors, if Alex was to be believed.

"What are you smiling at, Daphne? I can call you Daphne, can't I?" Daphne looked up to see Blaise standing in front of her, staring at her intensely. They were in the lounge, having some before-dinner cocktails while the elves finished setting up the dining room. The room was half full, as there were another half dozen guests in addition to the LeStranges milling about.

"Oh, nothing, just lost in my thoughts."

"This is Blaise Zambini, he is our host tonight," Alex explained unnecessarily. "Please keep him entertained."

"Yes, please do." Blaise continued to stare at her.

When the group continued on to the the dining room, Blaise was seated next to his mother, opposite Daphne. As they ate, he never took his eyes off of her, only taking breaks to reply if directly spoken to. Alex spent most of his time talking to Anastasia (or trying to – she often deflected him onto other guests), so Daphne felt like a butterfly pinned to piece of cardboard for examination.

And his gaze periodically drifted downwards, to her chest, before returning to her face with a smile.

Daphne tried to ignore it, making small talk with the woman on her left, but she was too frazzled to even remember her name.

As the evening drew to to a close, Alex finally turned to the male Zambini, following him out as they retired to the 'smoking room'. Daphne can't hear what he was saying, but his voice was getting louder and his tone more urgent. 'He's getting desperate.' Daphne hoped that he would succeed in whatever-it-was. She didn't know what he did, and she didn't care, but when he failed he would spend the next week lounging around at home, being depressed, angry and generally insufferable.

Finally Alex pronounced loudly "Done!" He reappeared next to Daphne a moment later, "Come".

She followed him out, past the smoking room and through a narrow corridor to a back stairs where Blaise was waiting. "Go with him. Do whatever he asks."

Daphne's stomach dropped as she gave Alex a questioning look, but he just gave her a little push towards the other man and walk back the other way. She steeled her resolve, 'I am a pureblood wife. If this is what my husband needs, then so be it.' But she couldn't convince herself. She felt her gorge rising. 'We need this deal to keep our standing in society.' She actually wasn't certain what the deal was about, but it was yet another little lie she told herself.

Zambini took her painfully by the elbow and lead her up the stairs and down another narrow corridor – they must be in the servants section of the house. Halfway along, he turned and slammed her against the wall, pressing hard up against her, kissing her, as one hand made its way up her skirt between her legs.

And then he collapsed.

Daphne staggered back, still in shock from the assault and confused by what just happened when Harry stepped out of the shadows. "What did you do?" She gasped.

"From where I am standing, it appears I prevented you from getting raped."

"We need Zambini's deal in order to.." She stopped. She didn't know why. But she had been telling herself this same thing so often that it was the only thing that came out of her mouth. Instead she ended weakly with, "You shouldn't have done that".

"You like being molested like that?" Harry kept his voice down, but she could hear how angry he was.

"You think this is the first time Alex traded my body for a negotiation advantage?" Daphne hissed back. But it had never been like this. This was… she had no words to explain how she was feeling. She was running on autopilot, acting the part of an obedient pureblood wife, despite the horror that was threatening to overwhelm her.

"What.." began Harry when he was interrupted by a vibration that flowed up through the floor, followed by a screeching. Harry glanced out the window to see the larger tree house sagging to one side. 'Oh, shit. That wasn't just the potions ward – I must have taken out something structural. How much power did that Abberley anti-ward absorb?' That was the last time he used a spell that he didn't fully understand!

Daphne grabbed Harry and pulled Harry away from the window as something ghostly went darted through it with a screech. More ghostly figures rose from the ruins of the tree house.

"What went into those potion?" He nodded towards the collapsed tree house that had served as a drug factory.

"I don't know, but Alex's pet potions master talked about loa."

Harry nodded. He had heard the name before, but he hadn't know if it meant anything. He made a mental note to look it up. Later.

Suddenly they heard people running, yelling for Zambini.

"GO! Before they discover you!" Daphne pushed Harry towards the exit. A pureblood lady never pushed a man, but all of her upbringing was fracturing under the shock of what had just happened.

Harry nodded then paused. "I'm not keyed to the ward," He didn't want to test to see if the wards were still up or if he had accidentally taken those down as well. For all he knew, his little sabotage spell could have turned them into a half-broken booby trap. "So I can't apparate out. Do you know the quickest way to the back door?" There was the sound of people running from the front of the house.

Daphne pulled open the closest door – it lead into a broom closet – before pointing Harry towards the servant stairs. "There! And I'll hide here." Only to have Harry yank her after him as he turned for the stairs.

"Why..."

"What do you think will happen to you if they find you hiding in a closet with the master of the house unconscious outside? You're going to be in big trouble."

Daphne felt ice water run though her veins – Harry was right. 'Alex will kill me. He might literally kill me.' She nodded and ran after Harry. Once back on the the ground floor Harry reapplied the disillusionment spell to himself and Daphne. As he looked back and forth, trying to determine the best way to go, Daphne grabbed his arm and led him calmly to the front parlor and out the door. Everybody was too busy dealing with the chaos in the back of the house to note a door that opened on its own.

"You would make a good thief."

Daphne snorted, "As if I would stoop so low."

Once outside, Harry led the way to the closest road. The Zambini wards extended almost all the way there. "We're clear. Hold on and I'll side-along you."

"I guess I don't have much choice." It felt like a chapter in her life was ending, and she had no idea what came next. Ever since she had been old enough to understand the concept, she had been preparing to be a proper lady in a pureblood household. Now… she was terrified at the now.

"Would you rather go back?" Harry tried to keep it bottled up, but his anger was growing. He had gone out of his way to rescue Daphne, endangering his mission, and she had the temerity to complain about how he made her life worse. 'All she thinks about is herself. She is the most self absorbed shallow bitch. I can't believe I was ever in love with her.'

Daphne sneered, "as if." There was no going back from this. She grabbed tight to Harry's arm.

*UHD*

"Harry?" Hermione asked as the apartment door opened.

"Yeah. Everything went great, but there was a complication." Harry replied walking in, followed by Daphne.

Daphne scowled, 'so I'm a complication, now?' She took in the small apartment, the sketch of the Zambini estate pinned to one wall, and the lack of personal effects and shook her head in disgusts. "I should have known you would be working with that mu..uggle born." She changed what she was going to say at the last minute. No matter how tired and angry she was, she wouldn't lose her self control! "So what are you, working for the Aurors now? You do know that there's no way you'll ever make anything stick to the Zambinis."

"No, this is about more than a little drug dealing" Hermione snipped.

"Daphne, do you know what's doing on in England tight now?"

"The winter season is starting shortly…" Daphne began hesitantly, referring to the series of parties that ran from October through the start of March.

"Daphne, there was a coup. Voldemort took over. And he is rounding up all of the muggle born and doing Merlin knows what with them." Hermione held up yesterday's Daily Prophet. It talked about how all muggle born now had to register with the ministry, and required special permits to travel.

"What? He's dead!" Daphne sat down on the couch in shock. "He was killed by that Harry Potter boy!"

"Somebody using his name is very much alive, and appears to be the force behind the new government. And your husband is helping him."

Daphne started to laugh. It started as a small giggle before erupting in a full throated laugh. Harry and Hermione stood watching her in confusion. Harry went to get her a glass of water. Finally Daphne got herself under control, "Yeah, that I can believe. He was always a hateful, bigoted son of a bitch." She took the water. "It felt good to say that."

*UHD*

Hermione pulled Harry aside. "Can we trust her?"

"Yes - she has no political motivations, and at this point, there is no way that she could go back to Alex, so she has no personal connections to Voldemort's side."

Hermione scowled, unconvinced, but Harry was the expert here, so she would trust his opinion.

"I'm going to see if what I took from the drug factory is useful. If it is, it's likely going to be time sensitive." Harry stated apologetically as he holed up in the bedroom to research the book and wand that he stole. "Please don't come in until I let you know that it's safe – I'm going to be setting up some pretty strong wards."

The two women looked awkwardly at each other. They had never been friends in Hogwarts. They rarely even crossed paths. Hermione went to the kitchenette and busied herself making tea. Daphne sat down awkwardly onto the arm of the sofa and asked, "so, what are you doing here? Do you think two newly minted Ministry employees can topple the government and rescue England from itself?" She asked sarcastically. Daphne was scared, and the only thing keeping her going was anger.

"It's not a government – it's dictatorship," Hermione corrected, "And somebody has to do something. While Harry has been collecting information, I've been trying to get in touch with others like us who would stand up to tyranny!"

Daphne sneered condescendingly.

"Why are you here? You know where the door is. I imagine you have plenty of apartments that you can stay at." Hermione retorted.

"No, Alex has plenty of apartments." And all of the friends who she could stay with were actually Alex's friends. He never let her out unsupervised. Even if Tracy hadn't moved to America, she wasn't certain if she would have been able to maintain the friendship. "Wherever I go, I am going to have to start my life over again, at a much lower rung of society." The way she said 'lower' implied 'inferior'. "I might as well do it here, where I have company." Her gaze automatically jumped to the door behind which Harry was working.

They sat in an awkward silence as Hermione sipped her tea.

"So what Voldemort is doing doesn't bother you?" She finally asked.

"No. Why should it? I am a pureblood. My position won't be ruined."

"But you seem to care what Harry thinks, and Harry does care."

Daphne was silent for a while before looking down at her hands, which were mangling a napkin. "He's a big dummy," she said in an unusually soft voice despite how much the stupid idiot had messed her life over by injecting himself in when he wasn't needed. Or wanted. Daphne felt the anger that she had been repressing for the past hour start to escape and latch onto Harry's role in her fall from grace. 'He meant well.' But did he really? Or was he only thinking of himself. He hadn't even visited in Merlin knows how long! Did he even care about her anymore?

"So you do still care for him," the quite voice interrupted the other woman's spiraling emotions.

"Still?"

"Back in third year, when we were all sleeping in the Great Hall while the professors were searching for Sirius Black, I saw you sleeping next to Harry when I got up to go to the bathroom.

Daphne looked down at her hands for a moment before suddenly getting up and walking briskly over to the kitchenette. "How do you make hot water for tea?" She demanded, not looking at Hermione.

Hermione walked over and handed her the kettle. "Harry trusts you, but I don't."

"Why, because I was a sly and manipulative Slytherin back in Hogwarts?" Daphne tamped down on her emotions, hiding her anger under her 'proper Pureblood' facade.

"No, because you're married to Alex LeStrange, who is one of Voldemort's financiers." Hermione pulled out her wand, "Swear on your magic that you won't betray us, or I will kick out on the street before Harry can so much as open his mouth."

"Betray you? That's pretty open ended. You gryffindors can be so straight laced about how you view the world," Daphne gave Hermione another condescending smile.

Hermione leveled her wand at the other woman. "You purebloods know how to operate a doorknob, right?" She nodded towards the front door.

Daphne gave a theatrical sigh before glancing at the closed door behind which Harry was still closeted doing who-know-what. "Fine." She slowly withdrew her own wand, holding it in her palm so as not to appear threatening. She recited the oath spell, finishing "I pledge on my magic and my life that I will never betray Harry Dursley." She gave Hermione a challenging glare at the changes she had made.

Hermione's eyes got wide at the addition of 'and my life', but she scowled at the Harry being the only one covered by the oath. "I guess that is acceptable." She took a tin of cookies and went back to the couch, to slowly sip her tea and nibble on a cookie.

*UHD*

Finally, after a tense two hours, Harry came out of the other room. "I think I have a sense of what we are dealing with. It would help if I had somebody from the DoM research staff to help with that wand-device."

Hermione shrugged, "Sorry. I majored in Econ & Magical Policy at Uni." The two women had been trying to pretend that they were ignoring each other. Neither knew what to say: Daphne was an upper-class trophy wife and Hermione was a muggle born, university educated, up-and-coming ministry employee.

And both suspected that the other had a thing for Harry.

Daphne was about to quip that she didn't keep Harry around for his brains before casting a glance at Hermione and deciding it would be out of place at a time like this.

"Do either of you know what a 'loa' is?" Harry finally got around to asking.

"Not exactly," Hermione responded immediately, "But I know that it's some sort of magical creature – some muggle texts refer to it as a 'spirit'. They are native to the Caribbean. Why do you ask?"

"I think that the drug Alex was distributing has a loa trapped inside, and when the customer swallows it, the loa takes control of them. My guess is that the stubby wand is some mechanism for controlling or programming the loa, but I'm not certain how it all works." Harry then rattled off the diagnostic spells that he had tried, and the results, which were inconclusive at best.

Daphne listened to the conversation, trying to call up her Hogwarts education. 'I was a good student!' But for the last 4 years the only thing she had had to think about was planning dinner parties. If she tried to contribute anything to the conversation she would just sound dumb. And if she made one her usual jokes (barbs) at Harry, she would sound like a dumb slut.

"We need to talk to an expert."

"Yeah, and I know just the wizard. Pack your bags, ladies, we're going to the Caribbean!"

"In the morning," Hermione countered, "Right now, I'm exhausted and want to go to bed." She took a step towards the bedroom before turning to give Harry a pointed look.

"Were you two sharing a bed?" Daphne's response showed that she wasn't as oblivious as she had appeared. "That's so cute - I bet you were fully clothed and platonic about it," she fake cooed.

Hermione blushed at how spot-on her description was.

"Ah, why don't you two ladies share the bedroom. I'll sleep out here," Harry had desperately been trying to power through the awkwardness, but then Daphne just had to bring the elephant into the room. 'I don't have time to deal with her drama.'

*UHD*

"How will we get to Bahamas? We need passports to get an international portkey." Hermione was eating breakfast. The options were pretty minimal, so it was just toast and a cup of coffee.

"We never needed passports when we – Alex and I – traveled. When we portkeyed to Italy nobody asked for any sort of identification." Daphne replied haughtily. It had been a long night. She and Hermione hadn't talked once they retreated to the bedroom. Despite the situation, the other woman had fallen right asleep, but Daphne had spent half the night laying awake, staring at the dim pattern cast on the ceiling by the streetlight through the curtains, thinking about her situation over and over again without getting anywhere.

"That's because Italy and England are both part of the EU, sweety." Hermione replied condescendingly.

Daphne blushed in embarrassment, feeling even more useless. She had even been forced to borrow casual clothing from the other woman (which she had had to transfigure, as they hadn't fit right - she was taller and had a smaller chest than the other woman - Hermione was now branded as 'the other woman' in Daphne's mind - And Daphne hated wearing clothing that had been transfigured. They itched).

"Don't worry, I got you covered." Harry took out the instant camera that he had bought earlier with Hermione and took a photo of her. After a moment, the camera spat out a photo. Harry gave it an approving look and slid it into a drawer of the desk and gave the handle a twist. He then took a photo of Daphne. When that was ready, Harry pulled open the drawer again, took out a passport that had replaced the first photo, and put Daphne's photo inside instead. "Take a look and see if that is all correct." Harry handed Hermione the passport.

"This isn't a normal hotel room…" Daphne had not been paying attention when they had arrived here late last night. She had assumed that Harry had brought her to a hotel, but thinking back… "This isn't a hotel at all. How does a forensic technician get access to something like this? Are you actually some sort of Auror?" When Harry didn't reply, she glanced over at Hermione, who was assiduously studying her nails. Neither one replied.

*UHD*

They arrived in the Bahamas right at lunch time – though it was early morning Bahamas time.

"Let's go get some food while we wait for the old scoundrel" Harry nonchalantly picked a route towards a restaurant that wasn't too crowded. "Though we may have to settle for second breakfast," He added seeing that they hadn't switched over the menu yet.

They were just finishing up when a middle aged man wearing shorts, an unbuttoned Bermuda shirt and flip flops ambled in. He hadn't had a shave in about a week, and his long wavy hair was tied back with a strip of leather. "Harry!" He swept Harry up in a hug.

"Sirius, you old dog. How are you doing?"

"Not bad. And I see you're not so bad either, hooking up with two pretty ladies!"

Hermione immediately blushed as Harry sputtered, "It's not like that Sirius!" He had known his godfather would tease him as soon as he saw them, yet he still wasn't ready for it.

Daphne just rolled her eyes at the childishness. "This is your contact? He reeks of alcohol!"

"Only the best," Sirius swept her a bow before turning back to Harry, "What's this about Voldemort taking over back home? The papers don't have anything about it." It showed how worried he was that Sirius immediately went to business.

"We shouldn't talk here – let's go to your place."

Sirius nodded and brought out half a coconut husk from his pocket. "Hold onto my nut and we'll take a ride."

Hermione cast an appalled look at Harry, who just shrugged, "He's more responsible than he sounds."

"He couldn't be any less," Daphne muttered darkly. The whole situation was surreal. It was finally sinking in that her old life was gone, destroyed by Harry in his usual unthinking way. He never considered the consequences of his actions! And now she was stuck in the Americas, where they probably still had red savages and lived in rude huts, sheltering with a drunk gigolo!

A moment later they whirled through the air to land outside a large ramshackle wood-shingle house. All of the shingles had been painted different pastel colors, giving it a cheerful feel that went well with the bright sunny day. "Feel free to go wherever you want in the front half of the house, but stay out of the back – that's where I have my still."

"Still?" Daphne asked with trepidation.

"I make designer rums. I mostly sell to the locals, but I am thinking of exporting back to merry old England." Sirius' face fell, "Or I was, before this happened."

Inside, the house was pleasantly cool and after their host had brought them a drink (non-alcoholic), Harry recounted what had happened, leaving out the secret stuff.

"That's bad. Really bad." Sirius paused to consider, "I can find you a local Obeah man to explain loa. They are common around here, but I don't really know much about them other than how to keep out of their way."

"I'll come with you." Harry volunteered.

"Son, you have bags under your eyes so large that they have bags under them. Get some rest and let me handle this."

"I have been corresponding with some others who want to resist the new government. Can I offer them the use of your house?" Hermione asked. "Assuming they can get out of England.

"Sure. It's the least I can do."

Once he had left, Hermione turned to Harry, "Can we trust him? He looks… too casual."

"He's my godfather, I trust him. And.. Well, from what I know of him, he has always been kind of immature, and the laid back attitude here has just encouraged him." More like restored him - when he had first escaped from Azkaban, he had been a mess. "But he comes through when you need him." Probably. Harry wasn't certain about that part, but their options were limited. "He helped my folks against Voldemort back when I was a baby," he finished lamely before quickly changing the topic. "Why don't you ladies each grab one of the guest rooms upstairs – there are plenty, and Sirius doesn't care which ones you take, as long as it's empty. He does have a house elf - Luca – but he's pretty busy helping out with Sirius's work, so don't bother him unless you need to."

Once the others headed upstairs with their minimal luggage, Harry went out into the back – Despite what Sirius had said, it was too early in the day to go to sleep, and what with everything going on these past two weeks, he had been slacking off on his training.

Part of the back yard had been sectioned off with a strong ward, setting off a training area. Harry set up the target dummies and began running through his various attack combinations.

"Mind if I join you?" Harry turned to see Daphne standing a safe distance back. Her arms were crossed like she was hugging herself and she was worrying her lower lip.

"Sure. Let's see what you still remember."

Daphne took a fighting stance, starting with some basic attack spells. She was rusty from lack of practice, but she improved quickly as her body remembered the movements trained into it at the Dueling club. "That's not bad for somebody who hasn't had to fight anything more than a party arrangement in four years." Harry quipped as they took a break for water. He was actually quite impressed – she had a lot of natural talent, just like he remembered from back when they were in school.

"Don't laugh!" Daphne retorted, "I feel so...useless like this. I thought I had... something, but it turns out I was just a tool for Alex. I didn't even know anything!" And the only skills that she had were apparently in the bedroom!

And it was all Harry's fault. She knew she shouldn't feel that way, but it was the truth – everything had been fine before Harry had decided to play Auror and forced her to abandon her life and messed everything up. But what scared her the most was that she didn't know if she should be angry at him for ending her old life, or at herself for needing him to end it for her.

Her mood kept whip-lashing between extremes, from self pity to anger to helplessness and back again.

Harry snorted at her statement but stopped when he saw that Daphne was actually upset. He had never seen her like this before – she often threw hissy fits, but those were all theatrical, intended to express her displeasure, but they didn't reflect her actual emotions. Harry had never seen her looking so… honest.

He wasn't certain what to do. He had never had to deal with emotions before. 'Does she want me to reach out to her?' But with the way that she had been snapping at him all day, he didn't really want to. Or maybe she just wanted him to leave her alone. 'I think she made it pretty clear that all she wanted from me was a distraction from Alex. And now that he's out of the picture, I'm not needed.'

But still… "You don't have to feel anything – this isn't your fight. You're free - You can go start a new life, doing whatever you want. I can forge you papers for the Bahamas, if you want."

"But is it is yours? The fight?" Daphne ignored the second half of Harry's statement.

"Yes. For more reason's than I can explain."

"Then let's do another round." She took a fighting stance again.

Harry nodded acceptance, not certain what else to say.

A half hour later, Daphne was staggering on her feet and Harry called the train session to an end. As Harry snagged the water bottle, he started, "Hey, Daph.." He wasn't certain what he wanted to say, but things had changed between them, and not for the better. 'If I just walk away, I'll never know where we stand.' "How about we do something crazy, like go for a walk, in public?" Harry turned to see Daphne's response, only to see her striding back to the house.

She paused with her hand on the doorknob, standing silent for a moment before bursting out. "You don't get to say that. You're the reason my life has turned to shit!" She slammed the door behind her.

'Well, that's that.'