Chapter 38 (Part 1)

February 25th. Ravenhead.

"Parkinson, your turn. Come on out."

The bland tones of Potter's voice were jarringly at odds with the terror they inspired.

Edward Parkinson had long since given up any hope of rescue or survival. He knew that one day, Potter would come for him and do whatever it was he did with the people he'd abducted. He had silently determined to himself that he would meet his end with the dignity befitting a lord of a noble House. Yet now that the moment had arrived, he found his legs too frozen with fear to move.

"You can come out on your own or I can stun and levitate you."

And that wouldn't be very dignified would it? Edward swallowed and forced his legs to move.

"After you." The young wizard said mockingly, indicating where he was to go with his arm.

Edward briefly considered attacking his captor physically, but the thought passed quickly. Potter was bigger and stronger than him, had a knife at his belt and needed no wand to do magic. It would be suicide.

So he just walked where he was told and said nothing.

Edward might have attempted conversation if not for the terror that closed his throat. The heavy silence and ominous footsteps was maddening.

Several times during the trip, he thought of spinning around and attacking Potter, but he could never work up the nerve to do it. And what would be the point anyway? They had already passed through several stone doorways that needed magic to open and Potter didn't even seem to have his wand with him. Even if he managed to overpower him by some miracle, he'd still be left stranded in an empty hallway.

Far too soon for Edward's liking, they arrived at their apparent destination.

It was clearly a potions laboratory of some sort, but nothing like anything he'd seen before. For one thing, the room was entirely too large and filled with too many odd things for it.

The set of cauldrons he recognised, same with the shelves full of ingredients kept behind thick glass doors even though some of them looked disturbingly like human organs. There was also a collection of knives in an adjacent glass cupboard, ranging from tiny to meat cleaver in size. Edward preferred not to speculate on their uses.

That was all that looked familiar though and it occupied only a small area of the room. One wall was taken up by large glass tubes filled with a green-tinged, but otherwise clear, liquid. A few of these tubes had some strange, brown-skinned creature floating in it that looked like an unholy love-child between a house-elf and a goblin. It had big, pointy ears and big, round eyes almost like a house-elf, clawed hands and feet almost like a goblin, though they were four and three-digited respectively. That was where the similarity ended however, as it also had six, strange little bone spikes along its jaw and was also a bit taller than either house-elf or goblin, with disproportionately long hands compared to its body and a complete lack of any visible genitalia.

The last notable thing in the room were two stone slabs, each with iron manacles attached and a strange silver-colored machine sitting on a pedestal between them.

"Like it?" Potter asked, making Edward jump.

"What?" He asked nervously.

"My laboratory, you like it?" Potter repeated.

"I guess." Edward said cautiously, unsure of how to respond.

"I'm glad someone does." Potter groused, baffling him greatly with his companionable tone. "I know I've been spending a lot of time in here lately, going through your fellow prisoners because I don't want to leave you unattended while I'm on vacation, but my girls sometimes act as if I'm deliberately neglecting them by using you for my experiments instead of just killing you. I just don't like to waste resources, you know?"

Edward blanched at the blunt statement.

"You don't have to do this." He pleaded desperately, his determination to die with dignity abandoning him quickly now that the time had come. "I'll take my family and leave the country, we'll never get in your way again. You can obliviate the past few months from my mind if you want."

Potter only stared at him blankly.

"Please… I don't want to die."

"Don't want to die?" Potter echoed with a tone of amusement. "Do you remember your initiation to the ranks of the Death Eaters, Parkinson? The young boy and his parents that you killed?"

Edward did remember. It had disturbed him a little bit, to kill something that looked like any other family, but they were mudbloods and muggles in the end. He'd gotten over it.

"Do you know why they died?"

What kind of question was that? They died because he'd killed them, because they were a threat to their way of life and the Dark Lord had commanded their deaths.

"They died because of ignorance and fear."

"I'm not afraid of mudbloods." Edward bit out, realising that it was perhaps unwise, but his pride wouldn't let him stay quiet.

"Really?" Potter chuckled, apparently amused. "Fear is such an interesting thing. It lies at the core of all living things, the most powerful impulse of spirit and the most pervasive of all emotions. Fear is at the heart of shame, it lurks behind anger and hope, you can't even have love without fear. After all, if you aren't afraid to lose it, then do you truly care? A man without fear would be a monstrous thing indeed. Of course, the problem with fear is that it produces idiots like you, who are so desperate to do away with the cause of their fears that they don't stop to think. You probably rationalised it away as protecting your world, but in truth, you were just lashing out. Little better than a cornered rat really."

"We were protecting our world." Edward said tersely, a spark of anger making it through his fear.

Potter merely nodded condescendingly. "Mhm, there you go again, lying to yourself. You were protecting your privileges and nothing more. It used to be simpler, didn't it? Mudbloods knew their place back in the days of your grandfather's grandfather? Well of course they did - the mundane world was a dirty, harsh place for the common people back then. Coming into a world of magic where food wasn't scarce and they could live in good, clean homes and didn't have to perform backbreaking jobs from dawn to dusk must have been like a dream. What was a little bigotry in comparison to that? It was no different than what they had to put up with from the rich before. But the world changed. While wizards stagnated, muggles progressed. The old order was torn down and ideals of equality for all took its place. It's a lie for the most part, but people like to believe it and the mudbloods are no longer content to have their pride stepped on. You could see that, even if you didn't understand, and you feared."

That struck Edward hard, because he could indeed recall more than one grumbling conversation between his peers about how the mudbloods didn't know their place anymore. It also seemed to present a straw to grasp, something that might convince Potter not to kill him.

"But you're a lord yourself, a lord of two powerful families." He said, trying to keep the edge of desperation out of his voice. "Why would you undermine your own position and give to mudbloods what you might leave to your children instead?"

Edward remembered too late that Potter's mother had also been a mudblood, but he still thought it was a good argument.

His captor seemed to disregard the insult to his mother, but also snorted derisively as he replied. "And have them turn out as useless as Draco Malfoy or your daughter? As entitled and obnoxious as Theodore Nott? As stupid as Marcus Flint? I'd sooner see it all fade to nothing. Magic offers so much to even those born in the most disadvantaged of positions… I won't let any children of mine hide behind money or heritage. If they are worth anything at all, they won't need to."

Edward didn't understand Potter at all. He was insane, he had to be.

"But we've drifted off topic, I had a point I was getting to." The madman said. "I'm afraid too. I might have lucked out into a huge advantage that allows me to learn magic much faster than should be possible, I might have a better understanding of the underlying nature of magic than anyone alive, I might have more raw talent than anyone in my generation or a hundred generations before and I might have enough potential, dedication and love for learning magic to become the most accomplished sorcerer to have ever walked this world, but I'm still only sixteen and with very little real combat experience. Voldemort is more than four times my age and seems rather combat specialised. If I take him lightly, he's going to obliterate me. The irony here is that Voldemort, too, is afraid. I don't know what happened to him in his youth to make him hate and fear the mundane world so intensely, but nobody claws at life and power like him if they aren't afraid. He wouldn't have tried to kill a toddler if he wasn't terrified. I bet he doesn't even know what he wants to do with himself if he wins, he's just too scared to stop."

The moment he stopped talking, Potter's hand snapped in his direction, fingers curled like claws and Edward felt an invisible force take hold of him like a giant's fist.

"That's why it doesn't matter what you want ." Potter said grimly. "The Dark Lord preyed on your fear and your ignorance to lure you into his service, Voldemort's fear of anyone that might challenge him has made him an implacable enemy to me and my fear of him now compels me to kill his slaves before they can be used against me. We've come full circle, Parkinson."

He was thrown roughly onto one of the stone slabs he'd noted nearlier and the iron manacles attached to them quickly grabbed hold of his arms and legs, immobilising him. Then, as he was gasping from the pain of the impact, a rubber ball was shoved into his mouth.

"Sorry about the ballgag, but I really dislike the sound of people screaming in pain or begging for their lives. I'd knock you unconscious, but I'm afraid that what I'm about to do to you would probably wake from anything short of being dosed with the Draught of Living Death and I don't want to waste one of those on you." Potter said, sounding frighteningly sincere.

Edward instinctively struggled in his restraints, but it was predictably futile.

Potter kept talking, now fiddling with the machine that stood between him and the other slab. "In case you're wondering what this is, it's a life-drain machine."

Edward stared at the machine in wide-eyed horror and started struggling even more fiercely.

Potter went on in the same calm tone as he used a knife to cut open his robe and leave him bare-chested. "I got the idea from the Princess Bride. Great film, I'd recommend it to you if you had any idea what a television was. I suppose you could also read the book, but it's a bit of a moot point since I'm about to kill you."

Edward ineffectually vocalised his fear into the rubber ball stuffed in his mouth.

"Don't worry too much, it'll be over relatively quick. Unlike the original life-drain machine from the Princess Bride, my version isn't a tool of torture. I never really understood that part. You made a machine that can suck the life out of people and you're using it for torture? That's like using a pair of wands as chopsticks."

A single suction cup was placed over his heart and it stuck there, obviously magically. "Did you know that it's important to consider the purpose of a particular item when enchanting it?" Potter asked idly.

Edward hadn't really known that, but then he'd been only a middling student and not very good at enchanting besides. He had bigger concerns at the moment than Potter's nonsensical questions.

"You'd think it wouldn't matter, but it does. If you take away the magic, this is actually just a mechanical suction pump. It took a bit of modfying to get it just right, but I think I finally got it. Can't make a life-drain machine out of a hammer or a beer stein after all, however amusing that would be."

Edward was not feeling very amused right now.

"Alright, now to get the other half of this experiment…" Potter muttered and walked towards the fluid-filled glass tubes that he'd noted earlier.

He stopped in front of one of those that held those odd creatures and must have cast a spell of some sort. The fluid drained away, leaving the creature slumped lifelessly in its glass enclosure. Another spell levitated the entire glass container, giving Potter access to the creature.

"You ever seen one of these?" The clearly deranged young wizard asked brightly.

Edward had not, not that he was really able to answer.

"It's a Brown Minion in case you were wondering." Potter explained anyway, for some reason looking as if he was having trouble not laughing. "They were used by the Fourth Overlord to overthrow the Glorious Empire, and by his predecessors before him to overthrow less impressively named lands."

Edward had never heard of any overlords, nor of a Glorious Empire. Maybe it was something that Binns hadn't covered in History of Magic? Entirely possible since all he talked about were the Goblin Rebellions.

"They're a necromantic construct, in case you were wondering." Potter continued to lecture. "You might know about Inferi, which is really just a dumb name for zombies that makes it sound vaguely satanic for no good reason. Inferi are the results of beginner's Necromancy - any moron can use a dead body's residual life force to reanimate dead flesh. Well maybe not any moron, but it's not that hard to do. Minions, on the other hand, are much more impressive if I do say so myself. To simplify, you create the desired dead body to your own specifications and then pump it full of life force to animate it. That's at least intermediate Necromancy and much better than a shambling, half-rotted carcass. Ideally, I would have a Minion Hive to do most of the heavy lifting and pop out Minions like a conveyor belt, but that would require me to do some serious experimenting with the reproductive organs of human females, especially witches and possibly squibs. Too bad that there seems to be such a dearth of violently psychotic or murderous witches around. It makes me wish I hadn't killed Alecto Carrow last year, even if it was a useful death. Aside from her and Bellatrix, it seems that most witches prefer to display their malice in more subtle ways. Good for them, bad for me. My girls are very tolerant of what they call my 'morally dubious experiments', but they'd almost certainly object if I started snatching non-Death Eater witches or squibs or muggles, even if they weren't very nice people. Fleur and Dora would at least. I have trouble understanding why to be perfectly honest - they seem to be okay with what I did to Narcissa and that was hardly any nicer than killing her and harvesting her organs. Not as messy perhaps, but one could argue that turning a proud, haughty woman like that into my happily brainwashed mistress is worse than a clean death, even if she is overall a more pleasant person to be around now. The worst part here is that I used to understand… I think. And now I don't, not really. That's why I let the girls have the final say about who I experiment on in case you wanted to know, besides making them feel better of course - I just can't be sure how far from 'normal' I've strayed. If it was up to me, I'd have snatched the likes of Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle over a Hogsmeade weekend or something, but Dora protested that they're too young and that they hadn't done anything yet. I tried to explain that they're going to be a problem in the future, or that they're not any younger than me, or any number of other perfectly valid reasons to take care of them right away, but she wouldn't budge and got upset when I said that she wasn't thinking rationally. Even Fleur didn't look like she agreed with me and Luna was unwilling to pick a side. I suppose Bones probably wouldn't be happy with me killing 'children' either and Narcissa still loves her son… When it comes down to it, the only thing protecting those twits from me is other people's sentimentality. I'm not willing to drive a wedge into my relationships with the few people I care about over them, but I just know that this is going to blow up in our faces. I've had that happen often enough to recognise a fuck up in the making, and I probably won't even get to say 'I told you so' when it does."

Potter's friendly, rambling tone made everything so much worse, simply because it gave him the distinct feeling that he wasn't doing this out of any kind of spite or hatred. Edward Parkinson was just collateral damage to him.

"Right, I think we're all set." Potter said after attaching something to the creature's chest and looking everything over again to make sure. "It's a good thing that magic makes it much easier to quantify bio-energy than science, or else this would be way harder."

Edward wasn't listening anymore, he lay lifelessly in his bindings and wished that Potter would just shut up.

"I'm freaking you out, aren't I?" The clearly insane wizard asked. "It's pretty strange how weak the average death eater's stomach is given the stuff you guys got up to back in the day. You can murder, rape and torture like it's going out of style, but the thought that the tables might turn one day never seems to occur to any of you. If we had time, it would have been an interesting experiment to see if I could break through your social conditioning and make you understand how similar you are to those you hate. It's an impressive feat of willful ignorance.

"I'm not surprised though - ignorance, willful or otherwise, is a requirement of civilisation. The truth is a terrible thing, you see. It cuts deeper than the sharpest sword, it strikes with more force than the heaviest warhammer and it spares no one. The fragile human ego and paper-thin sense of security that society is made of isn't strong enough to withstand it, not even close. Social mores, religion, law, culture, tradition… mankind excels at obsfucating the ugly truths of the world from itself with those kinds of trifles. Look too far behind the curtains and you get… well, me ."

By Merlin, why couldn't the lunatic just get it over with? If he had to die, then Edward would prefer not to listen to Potter spouting philosophy beforehand.

"Yes, Parkinson, I know I'm getting on your nerves." Potter said as if he'd read his mind. For all he knew, he might very well have done exactly that. "Sorry about that, but it's become a bit of a habit to monologue to people that I'm about to kill. Terrible habit, I know. I don't even need any James Bond films to tell me that. Still, it's proven to be a good way for me to express my thoughts verbally. Sometimes, things that sound good in your head are revealed to be rubbish when they come out of your mouth."

So he was lying here, chained to a stone slab, with drool leaking from his mouth due to the rubber ball gagging him, because Potter liked to think out loud? Edward wished he had attacked the bastard earlier. It would have been more dignified.

"No, it wouldn't have been." Potter answered his thoughts, confirming Edward's suspicion that he knew Legilimency. "I was waiting for you to do it, but you didn't have the nerve. Don't feel too bad about that though, you weren't the only one. I'm so much stronger than you that the idea of attacking me filled you with a subconscious dread. It's the same reason that Voldemort and even Dumbledore have such intimidating presences, though the old man keeps his hidden as much as possible. I have to wonder if Voldemort doesn't hate muggles so much because they don't have this same kind of magical sixth sense and aren't instinctively intimidated by him. For all I know it could be a significant reason for why wizards dislike interacting with muggles; their lack of aura. It certainly bothers me."

Potter sank into a contemplative silence for a few seconds, before he shook his head and met Edward's eyes again. He was smiling ruefully.

"I know you must think that I'm insane. I don't blame you - it's a knee-jerk human response to anything that doesn't fit your personal understanding of the world. I'm something much worse than insane though. I'm terribly, terribly sane . Or at least I'm trying to be. Peeling away the layers of falsehood that you're living under becomes harder once you're done with the obvious ones, especially when some of them are intrinsic to your personality. Some day, I should thank that dementor that nearly gave me a smooch a few years ago… there's nothing quite like a glimpse of eternity to make you think…"

Potter trailed off again, but something was different this time. He didn't seem merely lost in thought, but completely absent.

For a whole two minutes, Edward looked on in confusion as the green-eyed wizard stared blankly out into space, barely moving the whole time. Potter could make all the claims of sanity he wished, but there was clearly something very wrong with him.

"I miss it, you know?" He abrutly continued as if nothing had happened, making Edward jerk in surprise. "The Dark. I know what it does to people now, how it made me colder. My upbringing might not have been conducive for fostering empathy, but I didn't used to be like this. I threw up when I killed Pettigrew, now I'm putting Frankenstein to shame and I don't feel anything. I tried to act 'normal', for what that's worth, but it turns out that you can't simply unlearn sociopathic traits once you've developed them. There's no telling what I'd be like if it wasn't for my girls and their beautiful souls. It makes me wonder if Luna doesn't have a touch of foresight with the way she insisted that I Join with her, or if it was just her being Luna. The Dark is beautiful too, it blankets the world in despair. A thing of tranquility, a thing serene…"

Potter trailed off and went into that creepy stillness again. It was another few minutes before he continued.

"I lied to you a little bit before." He admitted, not seeming to realise his lapse. "I said that I've been going through my prisoners so quickly lately because I'm going on vacation and didn't want to leave you unattended. That was true, but the main reason is because the Dark is closest when I kill. I'm like a fat guy trying to diet, but still going over to sniff the sausages all the time. I know it's dumb, but I can't stop. In my dreams I see a world without fire, frozen all the way to the core, drifting through a starless void…"

Another long pause. It gave Edward time to consider what he'd just heard, unfortunately. Potter might not be as prone to violent outbursts as the Dark Lord, but he was infinitely more unnerving. He didn't even seem to be talking to him anymore, but to himself.

"I thought it was just withdrawal symptoms at first and ignored it. That was dumb too, thinking that I could treat this like a drug addiction. I tried drawing on the Sun every day, thinking that its Light would help. It didn't. If anything, it's even worse. The Light is so harsh and loud… My self-control is frayed, my attention span isn't what it used to be and I have too much energy all the time. My runes… such a crude, permanent thing I did to myself and they're so tangled up with each other. I didn't know what I know about magic now, I didn't account for how saturated with my magic my body is. The more I draw on the Sun's power, the more I strengthen their effects and the more I yearn for the calming touch of Dark…"

Potter paused again, but seemed thoughtful this time rather than absent. Then he turned to look at Edward with an oddly apologetic smile. "I think I've bored you enough with my personal issues already, even if you are a surprisingly good listener, at least when you're gagged. Believe it or not, this has helped me reach a decision on something that has been gnawing at me for some time. Etal isn't going to like it, but I got suckered in by his legend and made the mistake of assuming that he was wise. He might be smarter than most people and have superb senses, but he's still an animal. He likes what he likes and doesn't think any further than that. I can't keep leaning just this way or that, I have to find balance."

That didn't mean a damn thing to Edward, who was, quite frankly, more than a little irritated, scared and disturbed by what Potter was talking about.

"You have my thanks for listening to me pontificate. I'm almost sorry for choosing such a painful end for you, but it's too late to change my mind now. I know you're afraid to die and I won't say it's without reason, but try not to fight it and take comfort in knowing that it will all be over soon. The embrace of Dark is gentle. Let it absorb your sorrows, forever."

Edward had only a moment to experience the stark certainty of his imminent death before Potter activated the life-drain machine and turned his existence into pain.

Harry watched with anticipation as the last of Parkinson's muffled screaming faded away, hoping to see his creation rise to life.

It rose alright, but not to life. Its chest bloated like balloon and then exploded in a shower of gore, raining blood and viscera all over the laboratory. It was a good thing that all the sensitive stuff was protected.

"That wasn't supposed to happen." He muttered, wiping a splotch of dark blood from his face. "Back to the drawing board I guess."

He wasn't too disappointed though. Creating a whole new form of life - or unlife - wasn't something you did over the course of a few weeks after all.

And it wasn't even the most important thing he'd gotten out of this little episode. He hadn't meant to unload on Parkinson like that, but one thing had led to another… Still, he was glad he had. Now he just needed to convince his girls and Etal that shunning the Dark wasn't working.

February 29th. Potter Manor.

"… doesn't look like it's going to be possible to create a single emergency number and split it between multiple mirrors. The enchantment always collapses when there are two or more callers and nothing we've done so far has worked to stabilise it." Septima was saying.

"That's alright, it was always a long shot." Harry shrugged. "We'll just go with Plan B - reserve numbers one through fifty or something like that for St. Mungo's, the DMLE, Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and whatever else. I already have Fudge sold on the idea."

It hadn't even been hard, just a story about how Cornelius Fudge would be lauded as the wisest and most forward thinking minister of magic to have ever held office. It wasn't even a lie really - giving the wizards and witches of the British Isles the ability to call for help from law enforcement, medical professionals or disaster reversal in a quick and convenient way was nothing to sneeze at. Well, the part where Fudge thought of it was a lie, but it was wise and forward thinking.

"Speaking of sales, how are they doing?" He asked, turning to Penny.

"Improving." Penny said, looking down at a few notes she took. "People are still complaining about having to use numbers instead of their names, but at the rate things are going we can reasonably expect every magical household in the country to have at least one mirror by year's end."

Harry nodded thoughtfully and turned back to Septima. "How long do you think it would take R&D to figure out a way to tweak the enchantment to accept an additional activation phrase?"

"It doesn't sound like a problem." Septima answered after a moment, frowning in thought. "It would be simpler to put it in along with the rest of course, but it should be easy enough to add without disrupting the primary enchantment."

"Get them started on that then. We can charge extra for adding an activation phrase of their choice, providing that it isn't something too common."

"People won't like that." Penny warned.

"Extra features, extra cost." Harry shrugged. It was the same for people who wanted their mirrors to look a certain way instead of buying one of the standard models.

"Alright." Penny shrugged. "You've also received an interesting request from Director Bones. She wants to know if you could make a set of mirrors for the Auror Office, ones that couldn't connect or be connected to from an outside mirror."

"Ah, like a a work-only phone." Harry nodded, unsurprised. Convenient, instantaneus communication was a massive boon for any group of professionals, especially those engaging in risky pursuits. "Tell her that we can and that we will provide it free of charge, then ask her what kind of customisations she'd like. Schedule a meeting with Septima when she asks for more details."

"Were you expecting this?" Septima asked, amused.

"Of course." He'd already prepared a block of fossilized wood for the purpose, but hadn't wanted to broach the idea with Bones himself. If the people working for him were worth the gold he was paying them, they should be able to figure out how to make a sophisticated set of communication devices that were a good bit less clunky than handheld mirrors, even if they did still employ mirrored glass in their makeup.

"I'll write a reply to Director Bones as soon as we're done here. The only other thing I have for you today is the list of potential managers you asked me to compile."

"Nice." Harry said with a grin. "let's see it then."

Penny handed a stack of papers and he began looking over each applicant carefully. The shop in Diagon Alley already had a manager, but this list was for stores that he expected to open in other countries. Thanks to the convenience of transport that magic allowed, production could and would remain in Britain, but he had to make purchase of the mirrors available in a given person's native country if he wanted to profit from that market.

"A werewolf?" Harry asked in surprise.

"One of those that immigrated to Britain recently." Penny said with a nod. "He has the necessary qualifications, so I didn't think you'd care that he was a werewolf."

"I don't." Harry said absently, reading further. The man did, as Penny had said, have the necessary qualifications. He'd been bitten in his late twenties, which had given him time to get some working experience before the stigma of his lycanthropy made holding down a job difficult. "This one I think we'll want. Aside from the good publicity, people might also be less inclined to snarl complaints at a werewolf manager, if he's willing to move out of the country again that is. Are there any other outliers like him?"

"Well, there's a veela, from France." Penny said reluctantly with a small grimace.

"Ah." Harry sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

It had been a solid three months now since he'd knocked up Fleur's grandmother and the news had already started spreading. The healer that had discovered the pregnancy was a veela herself and she'd consulted a more senior healer, another veela, before delivering the happy news. Veela fucked a lot, which also meant a lot of pillow talk, which was a well known bane of secrecy.

Aurélie had tried to keep it quiet for as long as possible as a consideration towards him, even moving in with her youngest daughter for the duration of the pregnancy, but it had been a doomed effort from the start. If it hadn't been the healers, then one of her daughters, granddaughters or son-in-laws would have blabbed.

While the news of a sixty-seven-year-old veela getting pregnant certainly didn't merit front page news, the story had spread quickly in the veela community. As Aurélie had said would happen, it hadn't taken long for someone to piece together the various bits of information floating around and finger him as the most likely candidate to be the father.

Then there was the fact that he'd slept with five veela now. He already knew that Fleur had gossiped and bragged about his prowess to her friends and aquaintances in France and it was safe to assume the other four had as well… Yeah, that had contributed to the current situation as well.

Mainstream French magical society seemed to be oblivious, which was a small mercy, but Harry had already started receiving letters. There were older veela, ranging from fifty to an unbelievable ninety-four, politely requesting that he try to get them pregnant as well, often offering all sorts of incentives for the service. There were middle aged, married veela telling sad stories of trying to conceive for years without success and asking that he step in for their husbands. There were young veela looking for an adventure, including one particularly brazen sixteen-year-old that had suggested a free-for-all sex party.

The term 'drowning in pussy' had never been so exasperating. Flattering all this female attention might be, but he had things he wanted to do besides fuck.

"You think she's just trying to use this to get into my pants?" Harry asked.

"Well she does have the skills required for the job…" Penny admitted with a hint of pink on her cheeks.

"But?"

"I think you might want to look at her letter yourself." Penny said uncomfortably and handed him the letter in question.

Harry quickly read it over and understood what his steward meant. The letter was full of thinly veiled innuendo about how this veela was looking forward to 'exploring the intricacies of their working relationship' during the interview and how she 'hoped he was satisfied when he drilled deep into her past'. At least she was honest about her intentions.

Now the question was if she actually wanted the job or if it was just a pretense to get close to him. The application appeared to be serius despite the blatant propositioning.

Harry briefly considered the pros and cons of a veela store manager. It was always a pro to have a beautiful woman selling your shit and she might hire more veela to man the store. On the flipside, she might not be serius about this or might even use her position of authority to fuck around with the other employees.

… on second thought, that wasn't necessarily a con. Harry didn't care who she fucked as long as things got done.

Harry decided that he couldn't turn someone away simply for wanting to have sex with him. "A French native would be useful for running our French branch when it opens… ignore the propositioning and treat her like any other candidate."

"Alright." Penny nodded, obviously approving of the approach. "That's all I had for the day, so unless you need me for anything else…?"

"Just one thing. Could you order us a tourist portkey to Egypt for five from Diagon Alley?" It would probably be best to evacuate Britain before any veela got bold enough to make house calls. A few months of being unavailable would hopefully allow the worst of it to blow over.

"You think you'll be able to get away with using a tourist portkey like anyone else?" Penny asked skeptically.

She had a point, Harry knew. While Egypt was, unlike the Americans, rather relaxed about incoming portkeys, there was little chance of someone as high profile as him slipping quietly into the country like any other tourist. One of the pitfalls of a tiny, isolated society was that word got around really fast. Plus, it would be easier to negotiate the opening of an Egyptian branch for Potter Communications if he allowed people to make a big deal out of it.

"No, I fully expect news of our trip to reach Fudge in less than a day. He'll panic like he always does and rush over here to talk to me about it. I'll have to explain to him that the sky won't fall if I'm not here to hold his hand, then I'll reluctantly accept his offer to contact a representative from the Egyptian Ministry of Magic to provide us with a VIP portkey so that he feels useful."

"Wow." Penny blinked. "Is he really that predictable?"

"More predictable than the sunrise, that's Fudge." Harry snorted.

"Heh." Penny chuckled. "Alright, I'll go write the letter."

She left then, leaving Harry alone in his study with Septima.

"So, how are you doing on the recruitment front?" Harry asked, getting up from his chair and turning to stare out the window.

"Not so well." Septima admitted, standing up as well. "There's only so many witches and wizards in Britain, and only a small part of those has both the required skill and the desire to work for you… I'm afraid we'll have to start recruiting abroad if you want to have enough people to keep up with demand once you start opening shops in other countries."

Harry nodded silently. He'd figured as much. Finding people that were willing to move to Britain in order to work for him would be significantly harder than simply having Septima contact her old students. No matter though, it would work out.

The sunlight on his face quickly managed to divert Harry's thoughts away from business and into magic. Really, it was fortunate that running a business in the magical world was so laughably simple in comparison to doing so in the mundane one or else he'd probably pull a Tony Stark - leave the boring stuff to other people while he tinkered in his lab.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, extending the reach of his senses.

Septima was standing just behind him, a bit nervous and awkward in the sudden silence, but with an undercurrent of eagerness. She thought that he was going to turn around and ravish her any second now, was hoping for it even. What strange sorts these submissive types were… most people would say that Septima was far more confident and self-assured now than she'd been a couple of years ago and they wouldn't be wrong, but they only knew half of the story. Septima found it paradoxically liberating and empowering to just let go and allow herself to be to be dominated.

Harry took another deep breath and tried to ignore the prickling sensation of his runes and the surge of raw feeling that came in the wake of it. His heart thundered, the blood roared in his veins, his muscles screamed for action and he was suddenly sporting a massive erection. All the usual stuff that happened when frail human biology was touched by solar fire.

Another deep breath and he reached for the Void. It was hard to do in the middle of the day with the Sun's loud presence, but the Void was always there. Balance was hard too, but important. Humanity existed in the balance.

The pressure of a soft, female body leaning into him made his eyes snap open.

"Harry?" Septima asked softly and with just a little too much sigh in her voice to be merely concern.

Balance could wait for a little while though.

Harry turned around and grabbed Septima by the hair, just enough to hurt a little bit. She gasped in surprise and looked at him with eyes full of lust.

"You know I don't like it when people interrupt my thoughts." He said sternly.

"I'm sorry." She said, though she didn't sound even close to sincere. "Is there some way I could make it up to you?"

"I could think of a few…"

March 1st. Potter Manor.

Narcissa had long been aware that Cornelius Fudge was a greedy, dimwitted coward. Lucius had sometimes vented his exasperation with the man to her, as had Harry.

She herself had never interacted much with him and so had taken that with a grain of salt. Now that he was here, all but begging Harry not to leave, she realised that those tales had been, if anything, understated.

"Are you sure I can't convince you to put off your trip to Egypt for at least a few months?" Fudge fretted, nervously tapping his fingers against his leg. "With these dreadful disappearances happening, I really think that the people would feel safer if you were in the country."

Narcissa did not allow her amusement to show. She had never asked and Harry had never said, but it was very clear to her that the very man that Fudge was currently entreating had been behind those disappearances.

"There hasn't been a disappearance in a over a month now." Harry pointed out calmly.

"But what if they start happening again?" Fudge fretted some more. He was most likely worried about his own skin, or perhaps his reputation.

"Then my presence in Britain wouldn't change anything unless they tried to attack me. I don't have the legal authority to arrest criminals."

Fudge sighed and nodded in disappointment, but then suddenly looked up and beamed at Harry.

"What if I made you a sort of adjunct to the Minister of Magic, one with special powers and authority similar to an auror? That way you could act within the law."

Narcissa stared at the fat fool in disbelief and saw that Harry was similarly stunned. She knew that Harry had merely been stating facts and not attempting manipulation of any sort, yet Fudge had just offered to let him completely circumvent the DMLE.

Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and she knew that he was asking for her input. His first impulse was likely to refuse, but he trusted her to know if this was an offer worth taking. Narcissa's chest swelled slightly with pride at being so trusted.

Of course, this had the unfortunate side effect of drawing Fudge's attention to it. The man had no self-control whatsoever.

She'd worn light blue, knee-length skirt and a tight-fitting, cleavage-baring, cream-colored silk blouse today - one that employed spells to provide support for the breasts rather than a bra - in the hopes of enticing Harry to sleep with her, knowing that he found muggle clothing more attractive than robes. Giving Fudge a view had not been her intent, so her voice came out colder than strictly necessary.

"That would be unwise." She said with a chilly stare aimed at the idiot that made him shrink in his seat. "Not only would the Wizengamot be displeased with the idea of granting one of their own policing powers in addition to the judiciary ones he already has, but Amelia Bones would also be deeply unhappy to have her authority undermined."

Left unsaid was that it would also draw far too much attention to Harry's activities, whatever those were.

"Amelia works for me, she'll do as I say." Fudge snapped, his cheeks going red at the mention of the head of the DMLE.

Narcissa had to struggle not to roll her eyes. Fudge was terrified of Amelia Bones, forever paranoid that the far more competent woman would take his job. It wasn't an unfounded fear admittedly. Harry had contemplated ousting Fudge and backing Bones as the new Minister of Magic several times, most often after talking to Fudge for any length of time. A useful and malleable figurehead Fudge might be, but she knew that Harry was completely disgusted by the man's incompetence and all around fudgeness, as he called it.

"Narcissa is right." Harry interjected calmly. "Director Bones has enough on her plate without an unsupervised citizen being given auror powers and getting in her way. The last thing we want in these troubled times is for there to be tension where there doesn't need to be any, nor do we need to give the Wizengamot any more reason to grumble."

Narcissa had to admire that he could say that with a straight face. She knew that he took particular glee in making the Wizengamot grumble.

"I suppose you're right." Fudge said despondently. "I just wanted the people to feel safe again."

More like you wanted to feel safe again.

"Everything will turn out fine, Cornelius, don't worry." Harry assured with utter confidence. "I may not be here, but Narcissa will be and I rely on her a great deal. Just contact her if you need help with anything. And if there is some kind of dire emergency, then she can contact me over the mirrors."

While Narcissa was not looking forward to further interaction with Fudge, the trust that Harry was placing in her and the desire to please him overrode it easily.

"Alright." Fudge nodded, already looking more assured now that he knew that there would still be someone around to tell him what to do. He really was quite pathetic. "But at least let me contact the Egyptians and have them send a representative to escort you. We wouldn't want them to think that you're just anyone."

"I was hoping not to cause a scene, but if you think it's for the best…" Harry said relctantly, though Narcissa knew it was faked. While he truly would prefer the anonymity, he had learned how to make use of his both his fame and infamy. He was better at it than Lucius had ever been, just like he was better at everything else than Lucius had ever been.

"I do." Fudge puffed up, oblivious as always to how he was being manipulated. He blustered out a few more assurances about how he'd make sure that the Egyptian Ministry of Magic showed him the proper respect and rose from his chair.

She and Harry escorted him to the Floo as was polite. Fudge probably didn't even know how to apparate… at least not without splinching himself.

"That man is like a living caricature of a politician." Harry muttered as soon as the green flames receded. "It should be illegal to be that stupid."

Narcissa knew an opportunity when she saw one.

"Would you like me to relieve you of some tension, my lord?" She purred, reaching out to gently run a hand over his crotch so that there could be no mistaking her intent.

"My tension, huh?" Harry smirked, his own hand darting forward and pinching a nipple between his fingers." Are you sure it's my tension you're looking to relieve, Cissy?"

Narcissa gasped as he continued to pinch and pull at her nipple, blood rushing to both her face and her sex as her arousal quickly mounted.

She turned a smouldering look on him as she replied to his question. "Both."

Harry's smirk widened and he gestured with his hand. "Lead the way then."

Narcissa did just that, turning around and walking towards her bedroom.

It was hard to keep her pace measured instead of running towards it, such was her eagerness for what was to come. She could feel his eyes burning into her back and it made her knees want to tremble.

To think that she had once been able to go for months or even years without satisfaction when just the thought of her powerful lord had her juices flowing. Truly, Lucius getting himself killed was the best thing he had ever done for her.

The trip passed in a haze of lust and seemed to be over in an instant, yet it was still entirely too long for her tastes.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Narcissa threw herself at him and began kissing him ravenously. He returned it with equal passion and she reached towards the back of his head, seeking his hairband.

He had once used a plain cloth and rubber one of muggle make. Narcissa had tried to get him to wear something more fitting for his station, either something done with expensive cloth or precious metal, but to no avail. He turned it all down as being gaudy.

So naturally, when Nymphadora and Luna gifted him with a plain iron hairband shaped like a raven's skull, holding the usual enchantments designed to keep long hair in place, he liked it. His fondness for austerity was terribly frustrating sometimes.

The hairband clicked open under her questing fingers and released the mane of thick, black hair that she loved so much. Even as Harry's tongue plundered her mouth, she took an indecent amount of pleasure in running her fingers through it.

Harry took the hairband from her and Narcissa tore herself away from his mouth, gulping down some much needed air. Panting with lust, she pulled the shirt he was wearing over his head, sparing a moment of gratitude for the ease with which muggle clothing was removed.

His chest now naked before her, Narcissa bit her lip as she ran her fingers across it. Never had she imagined that she would find chest hair so attractive. The custom for pureblood men was to remove it with a few easy depilatory spells, so she'd considered it almost vulgar the first time she saw it. Now she could barely wait to touch it.

Or it could be the muscle underneath, that was also a possibility that deserved exploring. And explore Narcissa did, mostly with her mouth seeing as her hands were busy with his pants.

Just before she finally managed to remove the offending clothes, Harry stepped back and settled himself into a small couch that she used to read in.

"You said something about relieving some of my tension?" He said with a smirk. "I think I'd like to take you up on that."

"Of course, my lord." Narcissa said with a smile, going to kneel in front of him without hesitation.

Not that long ago, the obvious implication would have infuriated her. She had never used her mouth to pleasure a man before, thinking it demeaning and repulsive. The first time that Harry had implied that she was to do it, she hadn't really wanted to and had been extremely hesitant. Only the desire to obey and please her lord had pushed her to do it despite her reservations.

But that had long since changed, and now she took pride in her ability to pleasure him in any way.

His shoes, socks and pants came off easily and then he was exposed to the air, erect and hard, for her.

Narcissa had intented to take it slow, but as was often the case, his first sound of pleasure egged her on until she had her nose in his pubic hair and his member as far down her throat as it would go. He'd taught her how to do that too.

His musky scent and pleasured groans left her underwear soaked and her right hand seemed to slip under her skirt almost by its own accord. She knew that she should pace herself, but she desperately needed some relief.

In no time at all, she was whimpering around the thing in her mouth as her climax approached. It was all just too much; the smell, the sounds, his hand on her head, the sheer satisfaction of knowing that Harry was enjoying her ministrations… the orgasm made her legs shake even as she desperately kept working at his shaft.

Once it passed, Narcissa redoubled her efforts, embarrassed to have brought herself to climax before him. Fortunately, it seemed that he hadn't been far off, as she could tell by the way he was tensing and curling his fingers in her hair that he was very close.

She raised her eyes to look at him, taking in the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure with a sense of deep satisfaction. Pulling back a bit so that only his crown remained in her mouth, she started pumping his member vigorously with her left hand, closing her eyes again and waiting for the rush of hot, sticky seed to flood over her tongue.

He didn't dissapointed. With a grunt, Narcissa felt him tense and spill himself into her mouth. She gulped it down greedily and then made sure to lick every last drop off his member. His discharge was as clear a sign that she'd pleased him as there could be and she wasn't about to let any of it go to waste.

"Is my lord feeling better now?" She asked coyly, sitting back on her knees and batting her eyes at him.

Despite her very recent orgasm, Narcissa felt her arousal roar back in full force at the look her gave her.

"Yes, but I think I've still got some tension left." He said, glowing green eyes glittering darkly with lust.

Narcissa found herself pushed on the bed and given no time to think as he ripped her blouse off.

"I liked that blouse." She gasped inanely. Truth be told, she didn't care about the blouse at all right now, being far too focused on how utterly irresistible Harry was when he was this forceful.

"So did I." Harry grinned and ripped off her skirt.

That left her wearing only a pair heeled beige boots and a soaked, lacy black thong. Not for long though, as those articles of clothing were quckly disposed of as well.

Narcissa's breath was coming in quick, lusty pants as she waited for him to ravage her.

But he didn't. Instead, he took her hands and placed them on her ankles. Then he cast a sticking spell on them so that she couldn't let go.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a pleading whine that would have shocked anyone who had ever heard the usual composed, icy cadence of her voice, but she didn't care. Her core was aching with the need to have him buried inside her.

"Call it a little payback for playing with yourself earlier." Harry said with a wicked smirk and lowered his head between her legs.

Narcissa would not call being eaten out by a master of the skill a punishment by any stretch of the imagination. It took less than a minute for him to have her crying out in another orgasm.

While she was recovering, she felt an odd breezy sensation rush through her bowels, but was a bit too out of it to really pay attention.

She did pay attention to the questing finger that slipped into her arse. With the amount of fluids slicking her crotch and thighs, it encountered no resistance.

"What are you doing?!" She repeated with a gasp. That was dirty! Any attempt to get away was foiled by the fact that she had her hands stuck to her ankles, which she realised was probably the point.

"Punishing you." He replied, still giving her that wicked smirk.

The following fifteen minutes were a torturous ecstasy for Narcissa. Harry continued to apply his expert tongue to her sex, while at the same time stimulating her anally. She begged, she cried, she gasped for breath like a drowning woman and she orgasmed.

By the first climax of this treatment, she stopped trying to resist the finger wreaking havoc on her anal nerves.

By the second, she was actively trying to get it deeper.

By the fourth, she was too tired to do anything but gasp quietly as the pleasure shook her body.

The finger was removed and the spell undone, but Narcissa could only lay there and shiver as her sweat-soaked body was left to recover.

A weight settled down on her and she labouriously lifted her eyelids to look into the powerful green eyes her lord.

"You think you've been punished enough, Cissy?" He asked. "If not, I could always fuck you in the arse."

"Please…" She said weakly, not even sure if she was begging him to not do it, or to do it. It didn't matter really, he could use her in any way he wanted and she would be glad of it. Harry knew what he was doing.

He seemed to decide not to and Narcissa cried out in happiness as he sheathed himself in her. She was too tired to do anything more than weakly wrap her arms and legs around him as he thrust into her, but it was wonderful.

She loved every moment of it, the slickness of sweaty skin against sweaty skin, the heavy smell of sex making her head swim, the weight of him pressing down on her, his teeth at her throat, the wet squealch every time he filled her, the grunts of pleasure as he approached release, the flood of warmth as he spilled his seed into her. It was all perfect, he was perfect and she was happy with her place in the world, that being to serve him.

"Pleasant dreams." She heard him chuckle into her ear and her lips curled into a slight smile. Yes, a little nap sounded good.

March 3rd. British Ministry of Magic.

When the day of departure came, Harry was only slightly irked and not at all surprised to find Fudge anxiously waiting for them when they stepped out of the lift in the Ministry atrium. The current Minister of Magic was more than enough of a dunce to forget that people were supposed to wait for him, not the other way around, especially when he was worried about something.

"Harry!" Fudge called out loudly the very moment he laid eyes on them.

The near-shout of course attracted the attention of pretty much everyone in the atrium, who immediately began gossiping to each other. There was even a camera flash when they shook hands in greeting and there was little doubt that it would be in the papers tomorrow.

"Cornelius." Harry said with a forced smile. Fudge might be as dumb as a box of rocks, but he never missed an opportunity to look good. Not that waiting for his arrival like some kind of lackey was a particularly good image for the Minister of Magic to have, but Fudge clearly didn't know that.

Just as Fudge moved to greet the others, Harry felt Fleur's magic reaching out, dragging at the fumbling politician's aura like a dozen gentle hands. Looks like someone's feeling playful.

Fleur had been doing this whenever she thought she could get away with it ever since she had attained enough control over her magic to do it. Harry approved. It was good practice.

"Ladies." Fudge stammered, flushing bright red and his eyes drawn to Fleur as if magnetised.

Harry cleared his throat, hiding his amusement.

"Hm?" Fudge said dazedly, as if coming out of a dream. Then he seemed to realise that he had been staring at Fleur like a fool. "Oh yes, well, um, come along. The Egyptian representative is already waiting with your portkey."

"Lead the way then, Cornelius." Harry said, gesturing towards the main lift.

"What am I, chopped liver?" Sirius muttered too quietly for Fudge to hear as they started walking, clearly caught somewhere between amusement and irritation at being disregarded.

"Don't worry, Sirius, it's just the wrackspurts." Luna assured him.

Dora muttered something that sounded a lot like 'wrackspurts my arse', which was quickly followed by a little jump from Fleur as she had her behind pinched.

" Wrackspurts? " Etal hissed, rising out of Harry's collar like a submarine periscope. " What are those? Do they taste good? "

Harry couldn't quite keep the grin off his face at the absurd question. Come to think of it, this was the first time that Luna had mentioned wrackspurts around Etal.

" I do not believe you can eat them. " He advised the quetzalcoatl, his grin widening slightly when Fudge flinched at the sound of Parseltongue. "According to Luna they are formless creatures that either cause confusion or appear around confused people. I have never seen any sign of their existence, but you could not eat them either way. "

Etal huffed and sunk back into the collar, giving every impression of disappointment.

Harry kept the amusement off his face as they entered the lift and rode it down.

"Everyone, this is Nadia Sayegh. She works in Egypt's Department of International Magical Cooperation." Fudge said once they reached one of the Ministry's rarely used guest lounges, sticking his chest out self-importantly. "Ms. Sayegh, it is my distinct pleasure to introduce my good friend, Harry Potter, Lord of the Noble House of Potter and…"

Harry tuned out the moron's pompous droning and focused instead on examining this Nadia Sayegh.

Average height and build, perhaps late twenties with a light brown-ish skin tone, dark eyes, and black hair. Pretty in an exotic sort of way, even if the smile she gave him was diplomatic and a bit nervous. Her magic didn't feel particularly extraordinary… not as weak as Fudge of course, but certainly not strong enough to be truly classified as anything special either. An NPC type government employee then, possibly chosen in the hopes that a woman would make a better first impression on him. She was dressed in an officious-looking tan robe made of what seemed to be cotton. It looked to be well made, but the colors were a lot more drab than what you'd usually see British magicals wearing. Harry couldn't say he was displeased about the last part, considering the eye-watering crap some British magicals - such as Fudge and his fondness for lime green - favored.

"I am honored to meet you all." She said in lightly accented English once Fudge was done with the introductions and held up a coil of rope. "I have your portkey right here, unless you have some last minute business to finish?"

"We're ready to go." Harry said and took hold of the rope, the others following his example. "Goodbye, Cornelius."

"Bye." The Minister of Magic said with a little wave, already looking a bit lost.

March 3rd. Cairo, Egyptian Ministry of Magic.

The first thing that Sirius heard after the portkey deposited him was agitated hissing.

A quick look at the source revealed a cranky, full-sized quetzalcoatl looking quite put out by the mode of travel, and a placating Harry hissing back, trying to calm Etal down.

He also noticed that their escort was looking a bit frightened by the sight and quickly moved to reassure her. It was the gentlemanly thing to do after all and who knows, the lovely Egyptian witch might be agreeable to a later rendezvous afterwards.

"Don't worry, Etal just hates any kind of transportation magic." He said smoothly, giving her his best lady-killer smile.

"Oh, I see." The dark-eyed beauty said, visibly relaxing.

"So, Nadia, may I call you Nadia?" He pressed the attack.

"If you wish, Mr. Black." She said with a polite smile that Sirius took as a personal challenge.

"Please call me Sirius, Mr. Black was my father and he was a right bastard." Sirius said with a look of exaggerated distaste.

"Very well, if you insist." She said with a nod, still resisting the ol' Padfoot charm like a champion.

"I do insist, it's a very Sirius matter."

That finally broke through the diplomatic facade and garnered him a genuinely amused smile.

Ah, a woman that appreciated a good pun. So rare. This was going to be fun.

Harry had managed to calm Etal down by then and they started moving. Nadia acted almost like a tour guide as she pointed things out or sometimes commented on something.

Sirius had expected the Egyptian Ministry of Magic to be less… British. Oh, the layout and decor were different, as were the people and clothes, but the overall effect was still highly reminiscent of what they had just left behind.

He could see that Harry saw it too. He was thinking, always thinking. Sirius once again felt the bite of regret at having run off after Pettigrew and getting himself imprisoned. Harry might be an incredibly impressive wizard, but he was too old for his years. Would it be so bad if he was less powerful in exchange for acting his age?

He suspected that Harry would say so. His cynical godson valued his magic in a way that he valued few things. If magic was a woman, it would be his first.

Truth be told, Sirius didn't understand his godson very well. Harry had been a precocious kid when they'd met after his escape from Azkaban, but he had changed a great deal in the few years since then. He was a lord of the Wizengamot and far too serious to be healthy. He was more of an adult than most adults.

Ah well, if Harry couldn't act like a proper sixteen-year-old then at least he was a stud. Three girlfriends, one a veela and another a metamorphmagus… James would be so proud. James would also laugh himself silly upon hearing that his son had gotten his veela girlfriend's grandmother pregnant. Sirius certainly had.

"So, Nadia, what do you normally do in the DIMC?" Sirius asked curiously.

"I usually work in the Office of International Magical Law, but it was specifically requested that I be assigned as a liason to your group." She answered promptly.

"By who?" Harry asked, almost managing to hide the suspicion in his voice. Sirius doubted that anyone who didn't know him would notice.

"My grandfather." Nadia revealed easily. "He heard that you were going to be visiting and arranged it so that I could extend an invitation to stay as guests at his home. Unless you've already made other plans?"

Ah. Old boy network. That was very British too.

"We were intending to camp in a wizard's tent somewhere in the wilds." Harry said with a small frown.

That wasn't strictly true. Harry had intended that and been unyieldingly insistent on it. They'd all eventually agreed.

Sirius knew that he should by all rights be the one making these decisions, but he had long since realised that Harry would not hesitate to ditch him and do as he pleased anyway. He had a massive independent streak and any attempt at parenting would only serve to infuriate him. That ship had sailed while Sirius was rotting in Azkaban. Probably for the best - Sirius didn't think he'd do well as a parent, which was why he had renounced his position as Lord Black and let Harry have it, aside from his own distaste for the title that was.

"Oh." Nadia said, looking stunned. Probably at the idea that magicals would willingly rough it. Not that a wizard's tent was exactly 'roughing it'. "Would you join us for dinner at least? Grandfather was most eager to meet you."

Sirius could almost hear his godson thinking of a way to refuse that wouldn't be rude.

"We would be honored." Harry finally said, everyone except Nadia knowing that he was lying through his teeth. "We want to take a look around the shopping district and then find a place to set up the tent first, so we'll meet up with you later. Sirius, do you think you could stay with Ms. Sayegh while we do that?"

Ah, Harry had noticed his interest in the Egyptian witch and was facilitating his efforts to seduce her. Good man.

"It would be my pleasure." Sirius grinned.

March 3rd. Cairo, Egypt.

"Kind of reminds me of Diagon Alley." Dora mused when they stepped out of the Ministry building.

Harry had to agree with the sentiment, Egypt's hidden magic district was a lot like Diagon Alley, down to the way it was nestled in between the streets of the country's mundane capital. Not suprising, since the Egyptian Ministry of Magic had also come off as being very similar to the British one. The people were more brown, the signs were in Arabic as well as English and the clothing seemed to lean more towards tan or beige in hue, but other than that, it was closer to the British/European model of magical society than North America's had been.

That was… kind of suspicious actually. He knew that the ICW had come sniffing around here about a quarter of the way through the 18th century, decades in advance of of the mundanes. Given that the local magicals of the time were neither numerous, organised or especially powerful - Egypt having been conquered by Greeks, Romans, Arabs, Turks and several flavors of Islam since its heyday, all of which had eventually reduced the local wizards to a few scattered remnants - they had taken over easily and established a rudimentary magical government that was meant to enforce the Statute of Secrecy.

While that would explain the place having a certain European flavor to its government, it definitely did not explain why it looked as if the surrounding culture had not seeped in over the past two-hundred and fifty years as locally born wizards and witches were trained. Even the notoriously isolationist British purebloods hadn't been able to stop that from happening.

"Let's find ourselves the local equivalent of Flourish and Blott's." He said, wanting to investigate this minor mystery.

"Actually, I'd like to take a look at what kind of plants they're selling around here." Dora admitted. "Mum asked me to get her one of the more tame ones."

"Bookstore is fine with me, but I want to go look at some of the animals too." Luna said.

"And I want to see what kind of tourist locations we can visit. Egypt is supposed to have some good ones." Fleur chimed in.

Harry pursed his lips and aimed a scowl down the street. It seemed safe enough, but he was not feeling entirely comfortable allowing them to scatter like this. Not in this place.

"How about pairing up then?" He suggested. "Fleur with Dora and Luna with me?"

Fleur and Dora looked at each other and nodded with a shrug while Luna simply beamed at him and skipper over to take his hand.

"We'll find you when we're done." Harry said firmly.

" I am going with Fleur. " Etal hissed from his collar and quickly jumped ship.

" Traitor. " Harry hissed back in amusement.

Etal did the snake equivalent of a raspberry and wiggled deeper into the veela's collar.

"Hah, Etal knows where the fun is." Dora said with a cocky smirk.

"And the beauty." Fleur added with the same expression.

"Yes, yes, you're both fabulous." Harry rolled his eyes and made a shooing gesture. "We'll meet up with you later."

The two women smirked once more and swaggered off with their hands around each other's waists.

"Those two are a bad influence on each other." Harry muttered, looking after his girlfriends and then around the street again with slight worry.

"Harry?" Luna said softly, looking at him questioningly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, just a bit tense." He replied.

She looked at him with that particular look of absent scrutiny that always made him - and everyone else to be fair- think that she knew something. Harry still wasn't sure if she actually did or if it was just that kind of look.

"Are you being prejudiced again?"

And there was the cause of the uncertainty. Quite a lot of the time, she really was unerringly on point.

"Yup." Harry admitted with a nod.

Egypt was an Islamic country and Harry despised Islam just like he despised Christianity - they were basically the same thing after all - but Islam had not undergone the same reformation that Christianity had and religion still had its slimy tentacles wrapped around every facet of people's lives in Islamic countries.

Because of this, he saw all Muslims as potential enemies - people that couldn't be reasoned with. Yes, it was painting them all with the same brush, but he didn't care. He didn't care to know them or speak to them, not until they renounced their idiotic delusions, at which point they would no longer be Muslims by definition, so his reasoning neatly looped upon itself and spared him from having to make exceptions. He imagined that wizards in Medieval Europe must have felt the same about Christians. Sure, the guy selling cabbages from a street stall might be pretty harmless and probably a decent person in most respects, but he would cause you a lot of trouble if he learned you were magical.

Harry had even gone so far as to insist on making a blood-linked magical tracking device for each of his girls and for Sirius, which were currently sitting on his left forearm in the form of bracelets. Aside from keeping track of them, the braceletes also pulsed in time with their hearts, acting as a crude indicator of danger. He knew that they thought he was being overly paranoid and Harry would admit that it was probably true. After all, it wasn't like they had any reason or intention of interacting with the mundane population - had gone to considerable lengths to avoid such a thing in fact - but anything that reduced his stress levels was to the good. The feeling of being surrounded by potential threats combined with his derision for the local religion and culture was not the best of combinations and everyone was better off if he avoided the spiteful temptation to curse people. The occasional passing priest or street preacher in London was one thing, but Cairo was a bit too much of a target rich environment.

"Okay." Luna said easily.

"Have I told you recently that I love you?" Harry asked fondly, pulling the petite blonde into a hug as they walked. Fleur and Dora would at the very least have been exasperated with him in this situation, but Luna was so completely unjudgemental that you really could tell her anything and receive no condemnation.

"Not verbally." She replied happily, snuggling into his side and sending a wave of affection at him with her aura. "I love you too, Harry."

Harry returned the magical pseudo-hug as well as briefly tightened his arm around her.

"Do you think Sirius will manage to seduce Nadia?" Luna asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

"Hard to say, she wasn't some giggly idiot but I could tell that she wasn't completely unreceptive either." Harry said after a moment's consideration and then frowned. "He'd better not forget to mention that he's only out for a shag though. I don't need him causing me diplomatic headaches." He did still need to discuss the legal particulars of extending his business to Egypt after all and having their government contact pissed at his godfather wouldn't make that any easier.

The rest of their walk down the magical shopping district only further reinforced the similarities it had to Diagon Alley. Robe shops, apothecary, quidditch store, potions paraphilia,…..the only significant difference that Harry had noted so far was that Egypt's Ministry of Magic had its visitors entrance in the alley instead of somewhere else. Even accounting for the fact that there was only so much variation a shopping district can have, there was something decidedly European about the whole thing.

The bookstore was perhaps the most blatant about it. The design was very similar to Flourish and Blott's, but it was the books themselves that were the oddity. Quite a lot of them were in English, French, German and a few other European languages. In fact, if Harry had to guess, less than half of them were in Arabic.

"Curiuoser and curiouser." He murmured as he browsed the shelves.

"May I help you?" The voice of the shopkeeper, and perhaps owner, came from behind him, also in English.

"Yes, actually." Harry turned around and said with a small smile. "I would like to purchase all the books on the local magical history and law." He'd have taken a few spellbooks too, but there was nothing here that he hadn't already seen in Britain.

"All of them?" The old man blinked.

"All of them," Harry nodded firmly. "in both English and Arabic if possible."

The language spells that he had made such good use of back in Britain did not allow one to learn the written form of a language. Fortunately, once you knew the spoken form it was just a matter of learning the alphabet and doing some reading to get the hang of it. You wouldn't win any awards for grammar when trying to write in it, but you could read it just fine.

The old shopkeeper spent only a moment more looking surprised, then his eyes acquired an avaricious gleam.

"Right this way." He said happily.

"I'd like a good book on the local magical creatures." Luna spoke up.

"Of course, young lady."

Match 5th.

"Harry, you've been reading those books for ages already!" Dora's voice was not quite a whine. It was damn close though. "Let's go do something."

"I must agree with Nymmie." Fleur added her own two cents. "Those books will not be going anywhere."

"To be fair, the pyramids won't be going anywhere either." Luna pointed out reasonably. "But I would like to go see them today."

"Just one more thing…." Harry said absently, underlining a bit of text in the book of Egyptian magical law and then writing something down in a handy notebook.

"What could possibly be so fascinating about Magical Egypt's laws that you've had your nose buried in there so long?" Dora asked in utter exasperation and continued sarcastically. "Compensating for all the laws you're breaking back home?"

"Oh, the laws themselves are about as interesting as watching paint dry." Harry chuckled, closing the book. "But I did learn quite a few interesting things based on what isn't written."

"Such as?" Fleur asked with an archly raised eyebrow.

"That Egypt doesn't have any muggleborns apparently."

"That's impossible." Dora said flatly after a moment of stunned silence.

"Quite." Harry agreed. "But the fact remains that there are no provisions made in any of the laws for muggleborn children or their parents, nor are there any mentions of either purebloods or muggleborns in the history books. As far as Magical Egypt is concerned, there are only witches and wizards."

"That's… weird." The metamorph said slowly.

"Is that why you gave that boy that was being fostered with the Sayeghs such a strange look?" Luna asked shrewdly.

The dinner invitation that he hadn't been able to refuse without knowing how important Nadia Sayegh's grandfather was had been a typical high class affair; very stuffy and dull. The old man had clearly been looking to make connections, which was both tedious and predictable. Despite his irritation, Harry was prepared to say that it had been worth it, simply for the opportunity to see the six-year-old boy that Nadia's older brother was fostering.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "In fact, I might not even have noticed this if not for that."

According to the family's patriarch, the boy's parents had died as a result of some 'muggle violence' and they'd taken him in. It was a familiar ploy to Harry, take in some unfortunate kid to show how noble and virtuous you are. He would have dismissed it as the typical aristocratic feigned kindness if not for the lie he had sensed.

"The reason why they don't have any muggleborns is because they obliviate the shit out of the parents and take away any magical children as soon as they detect them. After that it's easy to just put them up for adoption."

"What?" Dora demanded, looking angry.

"I don't have any solid proof of course, but I don't think I'm wrong." Harry went on as if she hadn't spoken.

"Why would they do that?" Fleur asked pensively.

"Who cares why?" The metamorphmagus fumed. "It's barbaric."

"Actually, the why is very important." Harry argued. "There isn't much else they could do under the circumstances, aside from leaving the children untrained that is."

"Huh?" Dora blinked, caught off guard. "How could stealing children from their parents ever be the right thing to do?"

"You have to factor in where we are. The vast majority of the mundane population around these parts belongs to a backwards, belligerent, magic-hating religion. According to this" He held up the history book. "wizards here have had trouble over this before. The book only mentions a serious breach in the Statute of Secrecy in the early 18th century and doesn't say anything about the cause, but I'd bet half the gold in my vaults that it was because the government tried to adopt the same system for dealing with muggleborns as Britain currently uses."

"Only half?" Dora quipped.

"Only an idiot bets everything he has all at once, even on a sure thing." Harry quipped back. "Anyway, they probably learned quick that they had to be a lot more draconian with the secret of magic than Europe. Normally I'd say that was dumb, but in this case I can only applaud them for keeping that poison out. That must also be why Magical Egypt feels so damn European; they're taking in the bare minimum that they can get away with from the surrounding culture, which has allowed the original European influence to linger a lot longer than it should have. Come to think of it, that would also explain why Magical Britain feels like it was still trying to escape the Victorian era- they must have been doing the same thing until relatively recently. At first I thought that the muggleborn issue only became an issue in the past century or so because before then the mundane world was by and large a shithole unless you were rich. It's probably still a factor, but now I'm inclined to think that the modern muggleborn - that being a magical child raised by mundane parents in mundane culture - is actually a recent phenomenon."

"That makes a lot of sense." Luna said.

"Thank you." Harry smiled at her.

"So… I guess we're not going anything about the child snatching?" Dora sighed after a few seconds.

"Nope!" Harry answered cheerfully, putting the books aside and getting up. "Even if we wanted to, it's all perfectly legal and I don't fancy staging an ill-considered revolution. Now, you said you wanted to go see the pyramids?"

That the mundane government wouldn't see it that way went unsaid, as did Harry's disregard for the thoughts and feelings of the religious.

"It doesn't feel right, just ignoring it." The metamorph grumbled.

"Don't think about it too much. Those kids are probably better off anyway, at least they won't grow up being slaves." He said blithely.

"Slaves?" Both Fleur and Dora echoed in surprise.

"Yes, slaves. 'Muslim' literally means 'a person who submits'; ergo, slaves. I guess I can at least give Islam props for being honest about what it is; slavery. All religion is slavery really, you just can't see the chains."

Fleur and Dora both rolled their eyes mightily, nodded to each other and grabbed one arm each.

"Hell no. If you think we're listening to another one of your rants on religion, you've got another thing coming." Dora said snarkily.

" Oui ." Fleur nodded firmly in agreement. "We are not debating ideology today. Today, we are having fun."

"I wonder if we'll see any skeletons." Luna giggled and skipped after them.

"I wasn't ranting." Harry asserted with dignity, receiving disbelieving snorts in return.

Alright, so maybe he had been ranting a little.

March 7th.

Harry put his arm down and watched as the skeleton collapsed, sighing in boredom.

There was no getting around it, Egypt was boring as shit.

Oh, there were plenty of tombs that were unknown to the mundane population. Not the giant pyramid types that were rather conspicuous, but smaller ones, some of them so small that they were little more than a doorway into an underground complex. Ancient Egypt's wizards had apparently gone for hidden more than ostentatious, though there were also a few smaller pyramids that the ICW had made vanish from the eyes of the mundane population centuries ago.

Unfortunately, it seemed that the goblins had already cleared out the vast majority of them. Then to add further insult to whole thing, some clever wizard had thought that turning the emptied tombs into some sort of theme park/tourist attraction would be a good idea. That was why there were now poorly animated skeletons walking around in them, some of them with extra limbs or skulls, designed to scare anyone that decided to explore the tombs. The lazy fucks could have at least put in the effort to animate a mummy, at least that would have fit the theme.

He recalled how excited Ginny had been about her trip here and felt like snorting. Either nobody had told her that all the excitement was staged or she'd still been impressed in spite of that. He wasn't sure which was worse.

"You know, this reminds me of a joke I came across a while back." Sirius said as he looked at some hieroglypgics.

"What kind of joke?" Luna asked curiously.

"About how Egypt is the same as the internet; everyone writes on walls and worships cats."

"Either you're as bored as I am, or your sense of humor took a dive." Harry snorted. "That joke is old as shit."

"I do not get it." Fleur admitted.

"You're not missing out on much." Dora said with a roll of her eyes.

"This sucks." Harry declared with a sigh after a few moments.

"But not as much as Fleur's grandmother, right?" Sirius snickered.

Then he yelped as his cousin fired a Stinging Hex at his arse.

"Don't be so crass." The metamorphmagus scolded.

"He's right though, Aurélie could suck cement through a straw." Harry said with a smirk, quickly deflecting the retaliatory hex sent at him.

"And you! Don't encourage him." She scolded some more.

"Too late, I'm already encouraged." Sirius grinned, making Dora huff in exasperation.

"Oh leave the boys alone, Nymmie." Fleur said teasingly. "My grandmother would take that as a compliment."

"Ugh, veela."

"Nymphadora, are you upset that you didn't get a blowjob from Aurélie?" Luna asked, cocking her head sideways curiously.

"No." The metamorph ground out.

"She would be glad to oblige if that is the case." Fleur assured, gleefully jumping on the opportunity provided by Luna. "A veela's sexual appetite is even greater during pregnancy."

"I do not want a blowjob from your grandmother, Fleur!" Dora shouted, her words booming through the tomb and no doubt drawing the attention of the other skeletons.

"Sounds like you guys are having fun." Sirius sighed fondly as his cousin fumed and everyone else snickered.

"We are." Luna said cheerfully. "My favorite is the buttfuck train."

"The what?" Sirius blinked.

"Luna!" Dora hissed warningly, and was ignored.

"Oh, that's when I stick a vibrating dildo up my fanny, Nymphadora grows a futa penis or uses a vibrating double-ended dildo and fucks my bum with it, then Fleur puts her own vibrating double-ended dildo in her fanny and fucks Nymphadora's bum with it and Harry dictates the pace with his penis up Fleur's bum. It's great fun and we switch things around sometimes to spice it up, although Harry is being really selfish by not letting anyone else take the conductor position."

"Damn." Sirius said, much impressed. "That does sound like fun. I'd be jealous if I wasn't such a love machine myself."

"Envious. And yes I can see what a love machine you are, clearly you can suck your own cock like a master."

"Fuck you, Harry."

"Rejected."

"I hate you all so much." Dora snarked. "If it wasn't for you, I would still be a respected auror. Instead, I'm unemployed and having my perverse sex life bandied about in this dank tomb, but that I could forgive. What I can't forgive is that you're all so immature that I have to be the responsible one."

"Look on the bright side, Nymmie ." Harry smirked widely at her sour expression and prepared to cast a Ray of Nipple Hardening at his oldest girlfriend's breasts. "At least you're having fun."

Dora yelped and groped at her chest when a sudden blast of frigid air enveloped her nipples. She glared at the most likely culprit and launched herself at him, sending him running into the depths of the tomb with a laugh.

"Wait, I want to play too!" Luna called, running after them with a giggle, followed closely by Fleur.

"Ah, young love." Sirius sighed again. "Or at least young lust, which is even better really."

The sound of a blasting curse reached his ears and the dog animagus figured that they must have found another skeleton.

March 11th.

"Harry, I know that Egypt has been a disappointment to you and that you're bored, but how is trudging through the desert fun?" Sirius griped.

"We're not doing this for fun, we're looking for something." Harry replied.

"What would that be?" Fleur asked. While she was certainly enjoying the bright sunshine, all this sand was rather ruining it for her.

"Etal detected a big magical cat earlier."

There was a moment of stunned silence as they processed that.

"A nundu is a big magical cat." Luna said happily.

"A nundu is also a nearly unstoppable killing machine." Dora felt the need to point out, very much hoping that Harry did not have any crazy plans of seeking one out.

"Pfft, bullshit." Harry scoffed. "Sure, it's insanely magic resistant, but it can't fly, so all you'd need to do is sit on a broom or flying carpet and bombard it with conjured iron spikes or something. The diseased breath might be a problem, but nothing that can't be worked around easily enough. Nundus usually show up in eastern Africa anyway, and even that's pretty rare, so we aren't likely to run into one."

"So just to be clear, we aren't going after a nundu?" Sirius had to ask.

"No, we're looking for a sphinx. I'm hoping to figure out what the deal was with the cryptic hints the last one I met threw at me."

"Sphinxes have a nasty habit of mauling people that get their riddles wrong." Dora noted dryly.

"Well then we'd better not get any riddles wrong."

It was another twenty minutes of walking later that Etal spoke up.

" Over there! " He hissed, pointing at what could have just as easily been another patch of sand.

"Alright, let's go say hello." Harry said cheerfully, genuinely glad that this otherwise crappy vacation was finally yielding results.

The sphinx had appeared asleep when seen from a distance, but she became aware of them quickly and awaited their arrival with perfect calm.

"Good day." Harry greeted casually.

"Greetings, Spellweaver." She replied in the gravely tone of her species.

Harry's brows furrowed at the way she addressed him. "You aren't the same sphinx I met in Scotland." He stated. The face wasn't the same as he remembered and the chances of such a thing happening were remote in the extreme anyway. That meant that the first one had either been telling tales or that 'spellweaver' was a title that any sphinx would give him.

"Do you seek to be ordained?" She asked, ignoring his statement.

"Ordained as what?" Harry blinked, baffled.

"A priest of Ra. That is your purpose in seeking me out, is it not?"

Harry blinked again, wondering if he should point out that the Ancient Egyptian pantheon was nothing but a dusty memory.

Sirius seemed like he was about to say something and Harry waved at him to stay quiet, thinking.

There was simply no way that the sphinx could be oblivious to the knowledge that Ra's priesthood had been defunct for ages, which meant that something fishy was going on.

"Yes, let's go with that." He said cautiously.

The sphinx nodded her massive head. "Very well. I will await your arrival south-west of Pharaoh Djoser's pyramid."

"When?" Harry asked.

"I will await your arrival." The sphinx repeated, got up and ran off without another word.

"That's one dedicated girl." Sirius said, amused. "I hope you realise that this is probably a trap."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it?" Harry agreed. "The only problem is that I can't figure out any kind of motive that a bunch of sphinxes might have to set a trap for me. More to the point, they couldn't have planned for when or even if I'd seek one of them out. No, this has the feel of opportunism."

"I don't like it." Dora said with a frown. "We have no idea what we'd be walking into if we go along with this."

"She didn't insist on Harry going alone." Fleur pointed out. "With the five of us all there, we should be able to handle anything."

She didn't say that she was just as curious as Harry. She had considered going into the curse-breaking profession at one point after all and this sounded like it would be interesting.

"That could just mean that the trouble is too much even for all five of us." Dora argued, deliberately channeling her mentor's paranoia.

"I don't think she meant us any harm." Luna weighed in.

"It's the first piece of Ancient Egypt we've been able to find that hasn't already been looted by someone else." Harry said. "I want to see what the deal is."

"An adventure, eh?" Sirius grinned. "I'm game."

Dora looked at everyone's faces and sighed. She was clearly the only one that thought it might be better to leave well enough alone. That being said, she couldn't deny being curious herself.

"Fine, but we go in there loaded for bear." She said.

"I don't think we're going to find any bears." Luna said doubtfully.

"That's not…." Dora began in exasperation, only to trail off into a sigh at the snickering coming from Harry, Sirius and Fleur.

"You guys suck."