Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Sun Source

Scorched Earth

by Clell65619 27 reviews

in which Harry plays a small joke on the Slytherins… and the Headmaster. Minister of Magic Fudge reacts to the loss of his sugar daddy… uh, good friend Lucius, while Draco demands revenge. Ha...

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: R - Genres:  - Warnings: [V] [X] [?] - Published: 2009-11-13 - Updated: 2009-11-14 - 10751 words

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor any of the other characters or situations associated with Harry Potter. Nor do I own any of the characters and situations associated with anyone named Remo Williams or indeed any of the more outgoing citizens of the small North Korean village of Sinanju. But you knew that.

A/N2: in which Harry plays a small joke on the Slytherins… and the Headmaster. Minister of Magic Fudge reacts to the loss of his sugar daddy… uh, good friend Lucius, while Draco demands revenge. Harry explains his position so that even Fudge can understand it, Voldemort has a tantrum when he finds out what Harry’s big brother wrote about him, and attempts to give Harry a furry little problem, and Harry finds he’s crushing on the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

Harry Potter and the Sun Source

Chapter 6: Scorched Earth

Harry waited in the shadows outside the unusually bare stretch of damp stone wall. He shook his head at the blinkered thinking of these British wizards. In a school where almost every inch of wall space was covered in semi-sentient portraits, landscapes, suits of armor, and tapestries, they actually thought that hiding something in a bare stretch of wall was clever. Why not just put up a neon sign that flashed ‘Nothing to see here, move along’?

It was a real pain having to wait for someone to open the door. Oh, he could have forced the issue, but that seemed to be a poor plan stealth wise. Indeed he has amused himself over the last hour of waiting by tweaking several of the more aggressive wards around the entry way. It seemed that someone involved in setting up the ward scheme used Serpent speech as an integral part of the entries defenses. The ability to use Serpent speech was fairly rare, which meant that the wards in question had likely never been maintained in any significant way. Which was probably why they had been so easy to redirect. Where before they formed a lethal barrier to anyone attempting to enter the hidden doorway without the current password being used, now it would vanish the knickers of any witch passing through the portal password used or not. The second apprentice smirked to himself. Said knickers would reappear at random intervals on top of the Headmaster’s desk… That should inspire a bit of excitement.

Finally the prefect showed up from her midnight patrol. The young woman leaned forward and whispered ‘The Greatest of the Founders’, then she waited while the hidden door revealed itself and opened.

The young woman gasped when she felt her underpants disappear as she passed through the doorway. Harry used her momentary distraction to slip past her, aided by the dim light of the corridor. Distracted people made mistakes, a lesson his father had repeated over and over, a lesson that Harry had taken to heart.

The Slytherin common room was a long, low room with rough stone walls draped in tapestries showing the life of the house’s founder, Salazar Slytherin. The ceiling had round, greenish lamps hanging from chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece around which several Slytherins students were silhouetted around it in high-backed chairs, seemingly studying.

“Which of you prats pranked the door?” the Prefect shouted from the entry way. Harry pressed himself against the wall in the shadow of a support stanchion as the irate witch entered the room. Every head in the room turned her way to deny responsibility for any prank.

None of the faces revealed in the dim light belonged to his target. Excellent. The common room had four doors that allowed one to leave. One led to the passage out of the dungeon dormitory, the other three must lead somewhere… interesting.

The door to the left of the massive mantel bore the label ‘Severus Snape, Head of House’. So, the Death Eater’s private office or perhaps even his personal quarters. Interesting Harry mused, making a mental note to attempt to explore the space in the next couple of days to see what if anything interesting left behind by the coward, for now he had other priorities. That left the pair of doorways on the right of the hearth.

Harry pondered the wisdom of just selecting a door at random, then a lesson he recalled from his first solo adventure in the Philippines came to mind. He let the scents of the room make his decisions. The first door has a musty smell, while the second smelled of soap and various flowers.

Using the still ranting prefect’s distraction to his advantage, Harry made his way through the second door, only to be confronted by a maze of passages. With a small sigh Harry set off in search of his quarry.

He caught her scent in the fifth room he checked. Four beds, three with their draperies closed. The bed closest to the door was empty, a sleepy giggle drifted from the one on the opposite wall. Harry recognized Daphne Greengrass’ giggle, followed by the sigh of satisfaction he had come to know from Tracey Davis.

He smiled to himself. That answered a question he had wondered about when the pair of them had come to him together. The third bed had someone snoring in it. A quiet snore, but deep. Probably the girl named Millie who hung out with Neville Longbottom and Granger. Harry hesitated, he had always been wary of approaching this particular girl, she was just so… so… beautiful…

Business before pleasure he told himself, toeing off his shoes and sliding into the fourth bed, his balance such that the mattress didn’t even shift as his weight was added to that of the bed’s inhabitant.

Harry willed his night vision to full strength. Yep, there she was. He reached over and took her left hand in his and began tapping on the insider of her wrist with his index finger in time with her pulse. After the tenth tap, the girl moaned deep in her throat.


Pansy Parkinson was in the midst of what was possibly the worst nightmare of her life. Once again the Dark Lord was taking her face and forcing her to…

Suddenly the dream changed. The Dark Lord was gone, replaced by Harry Potter. He was standing bare chested in the Common Room, holding out his arms to her. She felt her self go very wet and rushed to him. Part of her mind was terrified that no matter how she ran he would never get any closer, but no, she leaped into his arms and her nose filled with his scent.

Pansy opened her eyes. She was overwhelmed with her own arousal and she grinding her arse into… someone? Who was in her bed?

“Hello Pansy.” His voice was suddenly all around her. “I was hoping we might… talk.”

“What are you doing here? You can’t be here. I’m still dreaming.” She rolled over to face him, pulling her wand from under her pillow. “Lumos!”

A soft blue glow filled the interior of the four poster, she blinked as her vision adjusted to the light and she found a smiling Harry Potter laying next to her. His left hand tracing a figure eight pattern in the small of her back.

“I saw you watching me when I was working in Hogsmeade this afternoon.” Potter said as she fought for her breath, “and I saw you portkey away. Did you tell Voldemort about what you saw I could do?”

“I…I… don’t… uhh.” The girl shuddered into a small orgasm.

“Not so fast Pansy.” Harry said pinching a nerve cluster behind his left knee. “We’ve got all night… unless you want me to stop.”

“No! Don’t stop.”

“Ok,” Harry said as he moved on to the cluster inside her right armpit. The girl’s eyes began to flutter. “So was Voldemort impressed?”

“He wants… wants… wants you captured alive.” She gasped.

“It’s always good to be wanted.”

“I want you,” Pansy wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “Get out of those clothes.”

“In a minute. Where is he?”

“Where is who?”

“Where is Voldemort now? Is he still at the Malfoy’s”

“No…” Pansy ground herself again him. “He’s somewhere else… I don’t know where, I went by portkey, and they returned me the same way… Do me Potter. Do me now.”

“What’s your job now? Are you supposed to kill me?”

“Oh Merlin,” she exclaimed tearing at his belt. “If you don’t get those clothes off and fuck me, I will kill you, you half blood bastard.”

“You are such a sweet talker Pansy.” Harry laughed as he kicked off his jeans.


Two hours later, after reaching step nine twice and twelve once Harry emerged from Pansy’s bed and snagged his shoes from the floor, considering what he had learned. Voldemort was interested in him far more than he should be, Harry had been quite surprised to learn of the Dark Lord’s anger that his people had tried to kill Harry in Hogsmeade.

What was that about? That most certainly wasn’t a rational response to someone threatening to kill you all the while working his way through your minions. But then, one really shouldn’t expect rationality from a megalomaniac who believed he was entitled to rule the world. At least they were good for business.

Pansy had no idea where the dark dink was hiding now. Maybe poking around the Malfoy house during the Christmas break would offer some ideas as to where the bad guys had run off to. If nothing else it would be fun to mess with Wrong Hole a bit… Harry smiled and started for the door when the drapes on the bed next to Pansy’s were suddenly pulled open.

“Potter? What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey Millie,” Harry said, more than a little embarrassed to have been found.

“Well,” the big girl asked. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” Harry lied, knowing that there was no way a babe like this would fall for that. She had to be used to being hit on all the time.

“To see me?” she asked in a very quiet voice.

“Yeah,” he said, reaching out to take her hand in his. “Would you like to go somewhere and, you know, talk?”

The girl blinked in the darkness of the dorm room. Then she pulled Harry into the bed, closing drapes behind him.


A fifth fireball manifested in Voldemort’s right hand, before flying across the chamber to immolate the Death Eater who had brought this insult to his lord while all of his assembled followers waited in silence dreading the next display of rage that might snuff out their lives as easily as it had those of the five smoldering corpses that littered the floor of the chamber. The man born Tom Riddle forced himself to calm down. He looked again at the letter that his Ministry spies had stolen from the DMLE’s evidence lockup.

Dear Dark Lord Funny French name:

Your troops are pathetic. Don’t try it again.

You really don’t want to get me angry at you. You belong to Harry. He’s just going to kill you. Me, I’d make you suffer. And you really don’t want to make our father angry with you, trust me on this.

After hearing Harry speak of his three encounters with your people, I find myself wondering if you’re really in this for the conquest…

- Remo

Voldemort ignored the House Elves scurrying about, repairing the fire damage, removing the bodies of the dead and disposing of the feathers and the other trash in the room while he pondered how this might have happened.

How did a Muggle survive an attack by seven fully qualified wizards? And what did the Muggle mean by warning Voldemort off from angering a Muggle old enough to be a grown man’s father? The Dark Lord shuffled through the parchments from the DMLE. His eyes settling on the report of the last spells cast by the wands of his fallen men. The time stamps on the report showed a flurry of casting in the final seconds of the Death Eater’s lives. Bludgeoning hexes, Curses of every kind, Cutters, a flame whip, and more then fifteen killing curses, and still they died.

He pondered the note saying that the forensic wizards had absolutely no idea how one would go about stuffing seven men into a single oil drum. There was no spell to do so, and while the Muggle might be able to do it with their machines, no such mechanisms were available at the Aerodrome where the attack occurred.

Between the memories of the Parkinson girl and the report from the DMLE, Voldemort had to acknowledge what he had known since he had seen in Bellatrix’s memories of the boy destroying his raiding party in Diagon Alley. The boy had a physical edge that magic alone could not counter. The speed at which he moved, the techniques he employed, Potter’s absolute belief that he was unbeatable. All of that set the boy apart from anyone Voldemort’s Death Eaters had ever faced. This left the Dark Lord with a single option.

“Get me Greyback.”


It was a very angry group of female Slytherins that arrived at breakfast the next day. Even Crabbe and Goyle, a pair of young men not noted for the wisdom needed to come in out of the rain, seemed to understand at a visceral level that antagonizing the girls this morning would turn out to be a very large mistake. Several Slytherin boys had already found that "antagonizing" could be construed to mean smiling, talking, laughing, or looking at the girls. The girls sat uncomfortably at one end of the Slytherin table. Some had lost several pairs of knickers that morning, trying to avoid the curse on the door.

In short, the ladies of Slytherin were not amused.

From the Hufflepuff table, Harry concentrated on not smiling while he observed the young women, many ‘going commando’ for the first time. It appeared that Wrong Hole had made some comment or other that the Women of Slytherin had taken exception to, his face and hair was showing signs of recently receiving multiple hexes, and the arrogant little waste of flesh seemed to have picked up a tic from somewhere.

All in all, Harry deemed this a very good joke to play on one of the houses that seemed to take themselves far too seriously. Now he only had to come up with something for the Gryffs. He smiled to himself when he spotted Millie; the girl was seemingly unconcerned about her lack of underwear. From his vantage he could see that she was more than a little distracted. As long as his hit allowed it, he might find a way to visit the Slytherin dorms a little more often…

The distraction caused by the discomfort of the Slytherin women muted the school’s reaction to the announcement of the loss of Severus Snape when he was described as being an ‘unfortunate victim’ of the combined Troll/Giant/Death Eater attack on Hogsmeade.

It wasn’t until Dumbledore described Snape’s passing as ‘heroic’ Harry lost all decorum and began laughing.


“Something is going on with the Slytherins Albus.” McGonagall said as they made their way to the Headmaster’s office.

“Yes, I noticed. I rather suspect that it has to do with the Severus’ untimely passing.” The Headmaster said as he waited for the gargoyle outside the door to his office to move aside.

“I’m not sure exactly what is going on Albus,” Filius Flitwick said as he followed his fellow educators up the moving staircase to the office. “I think we need to determine if the attacks on Hogsmeade and our students are happening for no other reason than Mr. Potter is in attendance at Hogwarts.”

“While finding Harry might well be a major motivation for Voldemort, we must recall his reign of terror began before Harry ever returned to Britain…” the Headmaster stopped in the door way to his office, his mouth open in shock.

“What’s wrong Albus?” Pomona Sprout asked from behind him.

Minerva McGonagall pushed past the Headmaster who seemed to be frozen in shock, and then turned back to the stunned man. “Albus, why is there a pile of girl’s knickers on your desk?”

The other two Heads of House entered the office and boggled at the sight.

“Is there something you need to tell us Albus?” Filius asked with a huge grin.

“I swear Filius, I don’t know anything about this.”

“Well it’s obviously a prank,” Minerva observed.

“No, really?” Pomona asked sarcastically. She picked up one of the pairs of underpants. “Hello Kitty?”

“Well, yes,” Dumbledore said, conjuring a container and using his wand levitating the unmentionables into it. From his manner one would think that he didn’t want to touch any of the articles of clothing. “The Purpose of this meeting was originally to welcome Aurora Sinistra to the post of Slytherin Head of House, though she seems to have been delayed by whatever is bothering the Slytherins this morning.”

“I’m here, I’m here.” Aurora Sinistra said as she entered the Headmaster’s office. “Some prankster has caused the Slytherin’s girls underpants to vanish.”

Slowly the three senior heads of house turned to look at the Headmaster. Oblivious to this, Aurora continued.

“It’s localized at the door to the dormitory, passing through the doorway from the dungeons to the common room causes the underpants the girl is wearing, or any on her person to vanish.” Aurora shook her head. “Why this had to happen the day I became Head of House, I’ll never know. I checked the door the best I could, but as I’m sure you recall Filius, Charms was never my best subject. I was hoping that you might find the time to come by and take a look at the doorway for me.”

“I’d be happy to Aurora,” Filius Flitwick said happily, “It will be interesting to see…”

There was the sound of a chiming bell, and a pair of red silk panties suddenly appeared over the Headmaster’s desk, only to fall to the surface of the desk between the headmaster’s hands. The four senior members looked from the frilly undergarment to the face of the newest head of house.

“Albus…” Aurora Sinistra asked in a brittle tone, “Is there any particular reason that my knickers vanished in that charmed doorway only to suddenly appeared in your office?”

“I… I… uh…” The Headmaster stuttered, while Minerva hid her grin behind her hand, Pomona turned away and Filius fell from his chair choking with laughter.

“Is this some sort of sick initiation for the post of Head of House?”

“No, no, no… No,” Dumbledore answered. “What appears to be happening is when the young ladies… unmentionables vanish, they evidently reappear… here after some period of time. Whoever the prankster is, he, she or they have pranked me as well as the ladies of Slytherin house.”

Filius picked himself off the floor, and offered Aurora the conjured container that held the under things that had been found on the Headmaster’s desk when they had arrived. “My apologies, Aurora, Albus for my laughter… It’s just that the looks on your faces were just so…” Giggles threatened to silence him again, but the Charms Master fought the urge. “The young ladies unmentionables are contained here. Why don’t we go see what I can do to remove the prank from your doorway?”

As the somewhat mollified head of Slytherin and the giggling head of Ravenclaw left the Headmaster's office, Minerva McGonagall found herself wondering what kind of pureblood elitist Slytherin would be wearing Hello Kitty undies.


Dumbledore suddenly sat up straight in his chair, as if startled.

“What is it Albus?” Pomona asked, having seen this reaction from the Headmaster before. “Is someone coming?”

“More than a dozen wizards just entered the Wards…” the old man said as he concentrated on what the castle was telling him. “Hogwarts recognizes them as being from the Ministry.” The old man rose from his desk. “I should be seeing what it is they are needing I suppose. Would you ladies care to accompany me?”

“What could the Ministry want?” Minerva asked as she rose from her own chair.

“Who knows?” Pomona answered as the trio left the Headmaster’s office.


The entry door opened and Cornelius Fudge strode in, accompanied by a dozen Aurors. The Minister of Magic was somewhat surprised to find The Headmaster, his assistant and Pomona Sprout waiting for him.

“Cornelius!” Dumbledore said smiling. “What a pleasant surprise. What brings you to our school on this cold Sunday morning?”

“Ministry business Albus,” Fudge answered imperiously. “We are here to arrest Harry Potter. Where is he?”

The old man shrugged, his ice blue eyes twinkling. “This time of day? Likely in his common room, or perhaps exploring the castle. What might you be arresting my student for Cornelius?”

“The Murder of Lucius Malfoy.”

“That murderous Death Eater was directing the Giants attack on Hogsmeade,” McGonagall spat. “If young Harry did kill the man he did us a public service.”

“Indeed this seems odd Cornelius,” Dumbledore interjected. “I was present when Auror Shacklebolt performed the Priori Incantum on Lucius’ wand. The man cast at least six unforgivables”

“Lucius was obviously under the Imperius. We can’t have fine upstanding Purebloods like Lucius Malfoy be killed in the streets by half bloods now can we?” The Minister asked. “Potter, Albus, I want him brought here now, or I’ll send my Aurors to get him.”

“Ye cannae do this!” Minerva protested.

“Madam McGonagall, I’ll remind you that I am the Minister of Magic. I can do anything I want to do.”

Dumbledore’s shoulders slumped. This couldn’t possibly end well.


”You wanted to see me Headmaster?” Harry asked as he entered the Great Hall.

Something was going on. Harry had noticed the presence of thirteen adults he didn’t know before he set foot in the Great Hall as well as an odd set of wards that seemed to be causing the students he was passing to forget that the Great Hall was there. Interesting. It wasn’t hard to pick up on McGonagall and Sprout’s alarm. That meant Harry was ready when the red robed man with short wiry grey hair lunged from just inside the door attempting to grab Harry’s arm.

“Try not to kill cops unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Remo had told him many times. “I used to be a cop, and most of them, well, they’re assholes, but they’re at least trying, you know?”

That’s why Harry only shattered the Auror’s right forearm, instead of killing him.

“Trying to grab someone like that strikes me as being a bit rude,” Harry said as he allowed John Dawlish to fall to the floor in agony. Harry surveyed the room. Dumbledore, McGonagall and Sprout were by the Head’s table seemingly being ‘guarded’ by a pair of red robed Aurors… One of which had a Dark Mark. Dumbledore was doing his serene, nothing bothers me thing, while both McGonagall and Sprout were very worried. Nine other Aurors were scattered about the Great Hall, the House tables missing, with their wands out and at the ready. Standing next to Shacklebolt was a fat man in green robes nervously turning a green bowler hat in his hands.

“Harry James Potter!” the fat man bellowed. “You are under arrest for the Murder of Lucius Malfoy and other Purebloods to be named when they are finally identified. We will be adding assault on Auror Dawlish to those charges.”

“Really? And who are you? Some shill bought and paid for by Malfoy? I know you don’t have a tattoo on your arm… Though he does.” Harry said pointing to the Auror to guarding Dumbledore.

“Preposterus. I will be adding the slander of Auror Selwynn to your charges. I am Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic! Aurors, do your duty.”

The eleven Auror still standing drew their wands.

“No.” Harry said.

A look of shock washed across the face of the Minister. This… boy was refusing the will of the Minister of Magic? “What do you mean ‘No’ boy?”

“I mean you can’t arrest me.”

“And why not?” The tall black Auror standing next the Minister asked.

“A question easily answered Auror Shacklebolt,” Harry said with a grin. “You didn’t bring enough Aurors.”

“Not enough?” Fudge sputtered, “What makes you think twelve Aurors aren’t enough to arrest you?

“Seven Death Eaters, four trolls, and three giants, one survivor, and he only made it because Auror Shacklebolt gets whiney if I don’t leave him someone to question.” Harry moved casually into the center of the room while the assembled Aurors encircled him. Idiots. These clowns are as stupid as the Death Eaters. “I don’t want to fight your Aurors. Killing them would annoy my older brother. He used to be a policeman, that’s what the Muggles call their Aurors.”

“Mr. Potter, please stand down. We all know you’re capable but you are still subject to the law.” Kingsley Shacklebolt said hesitantly.

“Nope,” the boy took a ready stance. “I am Sinanju, and Sinanju is not imprisoned, ever, by anyone. The only way to take me is to kill me.”

“If that is what must be done.” Fudge screamed. “Aurors, take him down!”

The eleven Aurors cast stunners as one. As they were doing so, Harry collapsed himself to the floor of the Great Hall allowing the red bursts of energies to pass over him to hit the Auror on the opposite side of the caster. Seven red robed bodies fell to the ground.

“Well, that was fun,” Harry rose from the floor and ghost stepped to just behind Fudge. Wrapping an arm around the neck of the fat man the boy whispered in the Minister’s ear.

“Aurors! Stand down! Stand down now!” the Minister screamed in the face of the four surviving wands being pointed at him.

“I knew we could come to an understanding Minister,” Harry said stepping away from the man.

“What do you want?”

“Well Minister,” Harry bent down and pulled the left arm of the still stunned Auror Selwynn shredding the sleeve of his uniform, exposing the writhing snake and skull of the Dark Mark tattoo. “It seems to me that you are having a little Dark Lord problem. For the right price, I’ll take care of that for you.”

“You expect to be paid? Why should I pay you to fight him when he keeps sending his Death Eaters after you?”

“You’ve no reason at all Minister,” Harry admitted. “You know, the Daily Prophet has been after me for an interview since I tangled with the Death Eaters in Diagon Alley, they’d probably be willing to pay me for a chance to tell my story.”

“You can’t do that!” Fudge shouted.

“Sure I can, free press and all that. I wonder if they’d be interested in what Lucius Malfoy told me before he died.”

“Fine,” the Minister acquiesced. “How much?”

Dumbledore choked when Harry mentioned a figure.

Fudge signed the contract and issued a Gringotts draft for the amount agreed from the Ministry accounts, then stormed from the castle in the company of the bulk of his revived protective detail, including the still stunned and now under arrest Selwynn, leaving Shacklebolt to finish with the clean up.

“Harry, there was no need to do that.”

“On the contrary Headmaster, it was completely necessary. The Minister was angry at the loss of his principle source of extra-ministry income. He had to be shown that his past could rise up and bite him if he wasn’t very careful.”

“But there was no need to defy the Minister like that Mr. Potter, you wouldn’t have been detained long.” Shacklebolt said quietly, confirming Harry’s suspicion that Shacklebolt was at very least coordinating efforts with the Headmaster.

“There was Auror Shacklebolt, I cannot stress that enough. Had I allowed him to have you arrest and confine me, my doing so would have doomed your entire ministry. My father would never have let that insult stand.”

“But what could one Muggle do?” Shacklebolt asked.

“You’ve seen what I can do? In comparison to Chiun of Sinanju, I am less than nothing. In fifty years I will only be approaching what he can do. Angering my father is the fastest road to suicide known.”

“What was it you told the Minister that changed his mind Harry?”

“Oh, Vault 1483. That’s the vault Malfoy told me he had been using to funnel money to Minister Fudge.”

“And you used that information to extort money from the Minister?” Dumbledore asked in a disapproving manner.

“Don't worry Headmaster; you are still my primary client. The children of Sinanju are hungry. Your requirements for the assassination of Voldemort delay me unnecessarily." Harry shrugged. "I can hardly be blamed for wanting to keep their parents from having to return the children to the sea by recouping what the time I am spending here is costing my village when the opportunity presents itself." He looked into the twinkling eyes of the confused Headmaster. "Come now, Headmaster, do you care nothing for the children? Is it because they are humble villagers, far away, and not English?”


Fenrir Greyback entered the throne room of the Dark Lord’s newest headquarter. This would be the first time the Supreme Alpha of the British packs had been in the presence of the Dark Lord since his rebirth, and after hearing the stories told by the marked Death Eaters, it wasn’t something the werewolf was looking forward to.

As soon as he crossed the threshold his senses were assaulted by the evidence that what the Death Eaters had reported was true. He began to regret how close it was to the full moon. His senses were heightened almost to their absolute maximum. This wasn’t going to be easy.

Remembering that he wasn’t supposed to look directly at Voldemort he announced himself. “You called for me my Lord?”

“Yes Greyback, I did. I have a task for you.”

“How may the pack be of service to you my Lord?”

“There is a boy attending Hogwarts, one Harry Potter.”

“Potter? The Boy Who Lived?”

“Yes…” Voldemort answered drawing out the ‘s’ in the word as if he were a snake. The Dark Lord stopped in mid word and pinched the bridge of his nose. Greyback waited in silence for several seconds before chancing a glance toward Voldemort.

Ordure ! rends moi mon corps, charogne !” Voldemort suddenly slurred, before blinking twice and continuing as if he hadn’t uttered the oddly accented words. Was that French? Or Italian? How odd. “He has proven too talented for my Death Eaters to deal with. I require you to capture the boy and bring him to me. My Potions Masters will provide you with all the Wolfsbane you require. The boy is not to be infected with your curse, nor is he to be damaged too badly.”

“I understand my Lord. The moon is full in three days. Is that soon enough?”

Petite bite, éjaculateur précoce. Je suis sure que Potter en a une plus grosse, bande mou!” once again the unfamiliar words came from the mouth of the Dark Lord. Voldemort shook his head, and then continued. “Yes… Three days to the full moon. Do not fail me Greyback. Leave now. Tell the guard that I require my potions.”


Susan Bones watched sullenly as the last of the students filed out the Entry Hall to leave for the Christmas Holiday. Hannah Abbott had asked that she come to the Abbott home for the Holidays, but Susan wasn’t sure she would be fit company for a family gathering. This would be the first Christmas since the murder of her Aunt and Susan strongly suspected that she was likely to spend Christmas day in tears.

She sighed as the last of her friends disappeared out the door, and turned to make her way back to the Hufflepuff dorms. She expected this to be a lonely two weeks, as Professor Sprout had told her that she had been the only ‘Puff to submit a request to stay in the castle over the holidays to that point.

“Hello Susan.”

She turned to find Harry Potter sitting on one of the benches that lined the long entry Hall reading a book. “Harry? Are you spending the holidays here?”

“Yeah. It’s funny, this sort of snuck up on me, my family doesn’t celebrate Christmas, so I didn’t really expect anything to happen here. Silly of me I guess.”

“I thought I was going to be alone in the dorm for the entire two weeks.” She sat down next to him on the bench. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

“I’m glad you’re glad,” Harry smiled. “I won’t be around the whole time; I’ve got a field trip or two to take care of, but most of the time I’ll be at your disposal.”

“Field trip?” she asked.

“Just a few things to take care of off the grounds, nothing important. Feel like getting lunch?”

The redhead smiled. “Professor Sprout told me that breakfast and lunch would be served in the Common Room.”

“Well then,” Harry closed his book and holding it under his arm rose to his feet and offered the girl his arm. “Shall we?”

Susan stood and took his arm. “It’s always nice to dine with a gentleman.”


“A moonlit walk around the grounds? Miss Bones, if I didn’t know better, I would think you were trying to seduce me.”

The redhead smacked his arm. “Prat. Why aren’t you cold?” bundled against the below freezing weather she marveled at his tee-shirt. “You breath isn’t even fogging.”

“Why should I be cold? The local temperature is a fact of nature. Your body is part of nature. If you let your body do what it’s supposed to do, the body will take care of itself.”

Susan shook her head. “You are so weird.” Extending her hands she looked up and started turning slowly in a circle. “I love this time of year, the air is so clear, it’s like you can see every star in the universe.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed.

“What is it?”

“You’ve got a beetle on your hat.” Harry carefully plucked the insect from Susan’s knit hat, the tiny creature struggling in his grasp. “Weird. I wouldn’t have thought that a beetle would still be active this far north at these temperatures.” With a flick of his wrist the insect was flung away from the pair, where it fell to the ground and lay still as if stunned.

“Thanks, I hate bugs,” the redhead said, looking Harry in the eye. “So, I’ve told you what I like about winter, tell me what you like about this time of year.”

“I like it that it isn’t snowing just now. Fresh snow makes footing more slightly less sure.”

“You are such a romantic.”

“I know.” His voice dropped, “Susan, we’re being watched.”

The girl stiffened a bit, but covered it well. “Well don’t be thinking that this little walk is going to let you get lucky Mr. Potter.” She said conversationally before continuing. “Where are they? How many?” she asked in the same low tones he had used to warn her as her wand dropped into her hand. Susan had spent far too much time with the protective detail assigned to her due to her Aunt Amelia’s place in the Government not to know how to react to strangers watching her from the shadows.

Harry reached out and took hold of her cloak, pulling her to him. “Seven.” He whispered his lips a fraction of an inch from hers, “two in the bushes behind me, five more in the shadows of the tree line.”

She mimed breaking the kiss, and hugged him close while looking over his shoulder. “Are you sure? I don’t see anything.”

“They’re there. Weres.”

The girl stiffened. Harry could tell she was terrified of werewolves.

“Let’s head inside.” He said loud enough to be heard by the watchers.

“Maybe you will be getting lucky” Susan said in the same tone, her trembling left hand latching onto his right.

The closer of the two werewolves moved. Like shadowy lightning it launched from the murky recesses of the overgrown bush toward the couple. The creature’s first step from the bushes crushing the stunned beetle under its clawed foot. With fangs bared and a jungle roar, the creature flew at the exposed throats of the helpless boy and girl.


Though he maintained a rough approximation of the outward appearance of a man, the leaping creature possessed the strength and speed of a wild beast. It moved on instinct and rage. The animal ruled the creature’s senses, not the human buried deep inside its mind.

At the last moment, it soared past Harry in a blur, its head tipped to one side. The alpha had forbidden any real harm from befalling the male meat, but nothing was said of the female. Sharp teeth sought the neck of Susan Bones.

In spite of herself, the girl shrieked in terror, and Harry moved to place himself between her and the attacking beast, shoving the terrified Hufflepuff roughly to the side. His strong arm extended, Harry’s right hand lashed out. A sure stroke behind the ear separated bone from bone. Flesh and muscle split apart before the boy’s fingernails. Harry did what appeared to be a pirouette and the creature flew past, wind whistling through the empty space where a moment before its jaw had been. The severed jaw dropped to the ground and the shocked animal tumbled to the ground, scrambling to right itself. A long tongue flapped in empty air. The creature whimpered in pain and confusion. Harry sent a hard heel into the animal's forehead. The creature that was a grotesque fusion of man and beast collapsed into oblivion.

The second attacker launched herself for Harry’s chest in an all consuming rage. The death of her mate driving the Alpha’s orders from her mind. A primitive urge compelled her to knock the prey down. Ease the kill.

But while these people that disease had twisted into animals attacked on primal instinct, their prey was much more than a mere boy. He was Sinanju, trained from his earliest memories toward the very peak of mental and physical perfection. When the hurtling shebeast was an inch away from ramming Harry’s chest, he moved. He fell backwards, avoiding the blow, his lower spine bending at an impossible angle until his back was parallel to the ground. His startled attacker flew over.

The creature slammed against a nearby tree, snarling confusion. She was back up in an instant. Twisting with remarkable speed, she launched herself on powerful legs back toward Harry. But this time, the instant before she could make contact with her prey, the creature suddenly stopped. Something was different, something was wrong. She landed in an alert crouch, sniffing the air suspiciously.

A new scent wafted to her nose, carried on eddies of still air. Fresh blood. Her sharp eyes located the source.

Two yards away, Harry held up one hand. A single drop of crimson glistened in the moon light on the index fingernail. Harry flicked it off. Slowly lowering his hand, he used the same finger to point at the were's stomach.

At the same instant, the woman turned beast felt a strange yawning sensation in her belly.
The creature glanced down just in time to see the meaty sacks of her own internal organs spilling from a razor slit in her abdomen. She was still staring down in utter incomprehension as Harry sunk a trainer toe into her downturned forehead. The beast joined her mate in death.

"Okay, here's the deal," Harry said to the five remaining werewolves. "I’ve had experience with your kind before, this attack is too organized for a pack just out on a run for the full moon. That means at very least your Alpha is doped up on the Bane. You don’t have to die tonight; I don’t get paid by the body. But that doesn't mean I won't snuff you if you push me. Now, you're not getting out of here, so why don't you be a nice puppies and take a nap until the moon goes down and the nice Aurors can come to take care of you?"

The harshness of Greyback’s features melted into a malevolent, fang baring snarl.

"Who says we want to be ‘nice puppies’?" The Alpha growled from a throat no longer suited for human speech. "Besides..." Slowly Greyback raised his hand. Around him the four remaining werewolves became even more alert. "You're fast, meat," he said. "But there are five of us and only one of you."

This time it was Harry who smiled. "Bad Dog. Don’t make me get a rolled up newspaper."

But even as Harry spoke he saw the slight nod from Greyback. The creatures behind him took the cue. A symphony of furious growls rolled up from five throats as the animals launched from the foliage.

Unlike Greyback, the four lesser werewolves didn't recognize that the male of the two frail humans standing stock-still as anything other than an easy meal. After all, humans were puny, humans were weak.

This particular human was also apparently no longer there.

The five leaping creatures landed in the precise spot where dinner had stood only to find that the boy was gone. Curious growls rumbled up five throats.

When the nearby voice came, sounding like the voice of death itself, the creatures jumped in fear. "An Apprentice to the Master of Sinanju is not an easy target is he?"

The pack wheeled. Harry was there, already moving.

The boy grabbed two creatures by the scruffs of their necks and slammed them together hard enough that their skulls merged in a meaty thump.

"We didn’t have to do this. I asked nicely," complained Harry, who was suddenly among the pack. An elbows found a soft belly, driving intestines into lungs and heart. With a violent expulsion of vile breath, the third creature joined the first pair in death.

"That’s five for the great white hunter," Harry said.

Panicked now, Greyback and his final follower both attacked blindly. Jaws snapped viciously, teeth eager to tear flesh. Claws slashed.

They chomped down on empty air. Their claws shredded nothing.

And while their teeth clicked futilely and their bellies grumbled disappointment, the final two creatures felt a sudden jolting pressure to their chests.

They didn't see Harry’s hands shoot out. They didn’t even feel the flat of his hands impacting on their heaving chests. They only knew that one moment they had been charging; the next they were airborne.

Howling in rage, the last pair impacted into the tree. Greyback felt his spine snap and everything below his waist go numb. He was only mildly concerned when his sole remaining follower slumped unmoving to the ground.

The boy was suddenly standing over the Alpha’s writhing body. Two quick thrusts of his right hand shattered the Alpha’s shoulders, and then he put both hands to the creature’s neck, crushing a nerve cluster under the second vertebrae.

Greyback’s eyes were wide as he lost all control of his body.

Harry returned to where Susan Bones lay sobbing and knelt beside her. “Hey, come on Susie, everything’s going to be ok.”

"I was so frightened. I thought I was going to die and you… You were joking with them.” The girl sobbed, a bit of anger replacing the terror in her mind. “You… you Great White Lunkhead.”

Harry took the redhead’s hands in his own. “You can yell at me about my inappropriate sense of humor later Susie.” He stood, pulling the girl to her feet. “Right now, I need you to run to the castle and let the staff know about the Weres on the grounds, Ok? I don’t think there are any left out here, but the cops should be called.”

“Cops?” Susan asked.

“Aurors. Call the Aurors, ok?”

The girl nodded, then flung her arms around his neck and kissed him. “You saved me again.”

“Damsels in Distress are a specialty of mine,” Harry said with a grin. He turned her around and smacked her on her butt. “Now, go. Get help.”

Susan nodded and took off for the castle at a run. Harry watched in appreciation as she ran. Susan wasn’t a beauty, she didn’t hold a candle to Millie Bulstrode, but the little redhead was definitely cute. The second apprentice of Sinanju smiled to himself, and then turned back to his captive. Conjuring a rolled up newspaper, Harry smacked the werewolf on the snout.

“Bad Dog!”


“Alright Susie, I’ve got your statement. If you want we can talk now. Just us.”

The redhead lost the battle to hold in her tears. “He was joking with them Tonks, they wanted to kill us… or worse, turn us, and he was joking with them.”

“I know Sue, I know.” The pink haired Auror said, stoking the still frightened girl’s hair. “I’ve seen Harry… well I guess, fight isn’t really the right word. Calling it a fight implies the other side has a chance, I’ve seen him do what he does and he frightened me.”

“You’ve seen him?” Susan asked the woman who had been her favorite member of her protective detail.

“Oh yeah. When he came back to Britain, I was assigned as his protective detail until I got him on the train. We were in Diagon, getting his supplies with Bellatrix LeStrange and a raiding party of Death Eaters apparated in. I shoved Harry into a shop and tried to fight them alone. Bellatrix got behind me and crucioed me good. She was going to kill me when Harry got between us and wiped out Bellatrix and the Death Eaters.”

Susan smiled, “I’m glad it’s not just me he keeps rescuing.”

“Yeah,” Tonks agreed conjuring a damp cloth and wiping Susan’s face clean. “That was embarrassing as hell, to have the one I was supposed to be protecting, protecting me. But that’s not the worst part.”

“What was?”

“I sort of seduced him the night before.” The Auror said with a blush.


“I know Susie, believe me I know. I’m old enough to be his slightly older sister very hot best friend,” Tonks shook her head. “I should have known better. We made love twice the night he arrived, and then again in the morning. Then he saved my life, and even though I knew I shouldn’t, we made love all night long the night before I put him on the train.”

“The seven years difference in your age isn’t that much Tonks.”

“That’s not all.” Tonks knew she was babbling, but she and Susie had told each other everything when Tonks had been her body guard. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. Last weekend before the Death Eater attack, I came to Hogsmeade to find Harry. We were making love when the Trolls attacked.”

“Harry is good, isn’t he?” Susan asked with a small grin.

“Yeah,” Tonks said dreamily, before realizing what Susan had just said. “Wait, you and Harry?”

“Yeah,” It was Susan’s turn to blush. “Draco Malfoy tried to rape me on the Express, and Harry stopped him. I wanted to prove to myself that I was in control of my sex life, so, I… well I sort of seduced Harry that night. So he went from you to me.”

“So it’s not us. He’s the slut.”

“Pretty much.” Susan’s smile grew larger. “It’s funny, Harry’s had a lot of the unattached girls here at school and everyone tells everyone that they had a fantastic time, but none of us are… in love with him. Except maybe Pansy Parkinson. She’s got it bad.” Susan looked about the Common Room as if to confirm that they were alone. “I’ve even noticed Professor Vector looking at Harry…”

“So I’m supposed to feel better because I’m not the only child molesting pervert running around disguised as an authority figure?”

“Or see yourself in good company.”

Tonks stood from the sofa and straightened her robes. I’m going to need to check in with Shack. Take care of yourself Susan. Write me if you need anything. Go easy on Harry, he may be a sex god, but he’s still only male.”

“He saved my life again, the very least I could do is show him how grateful I am.”


Boxing day, Harry mused to himself, surely must be the oddest name for any holiday in the world.

Harry was standing outside the gates to Malfoy Manor, examining the warding scheme in use on this day after Christmas. The Malfoys must have paid a great deal for this scheme, and then insulted the Warder for some reason. This was the only explanation Harry could come up with to explain the very obvious flaw in what were otherwise the finest wards Harry had ever seen.

Finding this place was child’s play. All that had been required was to gain entry into Severus Snape’s office and find his address book. For a supposed spy the man had had not sense of operational security. After finding the apparition coordinates for the Malfoy estate, Harry promptly ignored them and appeared with a soft crack a mile to the south east of the nominal official apparition point.

No sense in making it easy for a welcoming party.

Covering the mile took less than three minutes and now Harry was at the gates. It was time for a decision. Should he trigger the flaw in the wards, setting up a cascade failure in the scheme and possibly causing damage to the Manor house, or should he simply ring the bell?

Decisions, decision.

He reached out and took hold of the bell cord, giving it two soft pulls.

A small elf appeared with a Pop. “Welcome to Malfoy Manor,” the little being said with a bow. “How can Dobby be helping youse?”

“Harry Potter to see Mrs. Malfoy.”

“For what reason does you want to see the Mistress?”

“I am a class mate of young Draco, and I’d like to offer my condolences for the passing of Mr. Malfoy.” Harry offered.

“Does Harry Potter have a card for Mistress?” the Elf asked.

“No, I do not.”

“Proper Wizards announce theyself with a card.” The Elf huffed as he popped away.

Harry waited two minutes, and was almost to the point where he was going to collapse the wards when the gate opened allowing him passage. He smiled to himself, evidently he was expected to walk the quarter mile to the front door.


When Harry reached the door it was opened by the same elf who had questioned him at the gate to the estate. Framed in the now open doorway was Narcissa Malfoy, clad in stylish cream colored robes, the woman offered a disdainful glare.

“And why are you here Mr. Potter? I’m told that you personally executed my husband.”

“I killed him, certainly Mrs. Malfoy, but it was hardly an execution. He chose to follow the wrong man, and ultimately chose to attack the wrong man.” Harry offered the woman a smile. “And while I’m sure your grief is real, I notice that you don’t seem to be mourning too intensely.”

“The depths of my grief are hardly your business boy.” The woman spat.

“Mrs. Malfoy, I am asking for nothing more than a chance to speak with you. May I come in?”

“And if I say no, you’ll kill me?”

“Goodness no. My father would have my head for such a thing, I would simply do damage to your fine home until I gained entry.” Again he smiled at the woman.

“Won’t you come in then?” “Dobby, tea for two if you please.”

“Yes, Mist…”

“Uh, Dobby?” Harry asked interrupting the elf. “Just water for me please. Plain water, room temperature.”

The elf’s eyes flicked to his mistress who nodded. Dobby popped away.

Narcissa lead Harry to the Manor’s sitting room, and once seated herself on a leather wingback chair, gestured for Harry to sit on the sofa.

“So Mr. Potter…” Narcissa asked as Dobby served her tea and Harry’s water. “What was it you wanted enough to threaten violence?”

“Simply put, I want Voldemort. Waiting for him to come to me has gotten old, I know he was here, your husband told me he was, but he isn’t any longer. I believe that you know where he is. I would like you to tell me.”

“And why would I tell you, supposing I knew?”

“I can think of many reasons. First and foremost is that you are a mother and you love your son.”

“Are you threatening Draco?” the regal woman asked in a chilled tone.

“Not at all. Draco and I have had disagreements and he has paid for his arrogance with me. Our disagreements came from his mouth attempting to write cheques his wand couldn’t cash. The reason that you will protect your son is what your husband told me before he died. He told me that in killing him I had won nothing because his son would take his place… I don’t really believe that you want that for Draco.”

“The Dark Lord would kill me.”

“He’s already killing you Mrs. Malfoy. He’s been doing something to you, I can see it in how your school your features when you speak of him.” Harry picked up the glass of water the Elf had delivered and lifted it to his lips, and then paused.

“Oh, nice try Mrs. Malfoy. What did you have your elf spike this with? What ever it is it has only the slightest hint of a scent.” Harry placed the glass back on the tea tray.

“The man who killed my husband comes to our home, of course I took precautions,” the woman said quietly. “What will you do now?”

Harry shrugged. “Just what I was doing before. I want Voldemort. You need Voldemort killed so that his evil doesn’t infect your son any more than it has. You have what I want, I can do what you need. I believe we can have a working arrangement… As long as I don’t drink the water.” That same smile crossed his lips.

Narcissa leaned forward, allowing her visitor a clear look at her cleavage. “Perhaps there is a way to ensure a more binding agreement…”

Harry took the woman’s right hand in his own, and began tapping his index finger on the center of her wrist in time with her heartbeat. “Why Mrs. Malfoy… are you trying to seduce me?”


Step three… oh come on! Harry thought as Narcissa Malfoy shuddered into her first orgasm.

“What… Uhh… What are you doing to me?” she gasped as she rode the wave of her body’s response to Harry’s ministrations.

“That’s just a small orgasm Narcissa,” Harry said as he moved to step four. He should have suspected something when she had been surprised that he wanted to see her naked. Lucius evidently never had. It seemed he hadn’t done other things either.

“So good… so good… so good… so good…” Narcissa murmured as she molded her body to him.

Oh that wasn’t good. He wasn’t going to break double digits this time. Step six…

Narcissa convulsed under him and screamed her way through another orgasm. This confused Harry, he had barely touched her, so how was it possible that Lucius had never…


Harry turned his attention to the door where Draco was standing with his mouth hanging open. Sparing a glance to Narcissa he found that she had passed out in his arms.

“Hello Draco.” Harry said to the staring boy.

“Potter? What are you...?”

“Don’t worry Draco, you won’t have to call me ‘Father’ right away. We’ll work into it.”

“You bastard!” Draco fumbled for his wand.

“Oh, shut up.” Harry tossed a wandless stunner across the room, dropping the Slytherin where he stood. Then he levitated the boy out of the bedroom and closed the door.

Harry returned his attention to Narcissa who was only now rousing. “Coming back to us?”

“What are you doing to me?” she gasped.

“Do you want me to stop?”


“Ok, let’s try that again.” Step one.


Twelve days into the new year Remo Williams was at his latest assignment. Upstairs had determined that a terrorist cell was planning an attack to coincide with the Vice President’s visit to the US Embassy in Rome.

Smitty had sent him an elaborate plan for locating the terrorist staging area, but Remo had lost those document a few moments after receiving them, so he fell back on his normal method of finding his targets. He got into a cab, handed the driver a large wad of bills and asked to be taken to the crazy men with all the guns in the world.

Rome being the city it is, it only took three tries to find the right group of crazy men with all the guns in the world.

In a dark warehouse filled with weapons and explosives Remo watched as the thirty seven men discussed their plans in a language the Earthly avatar of Shiva did not understand. The walls were covered with charts and diagrams of every kind. It didn’t take long for Remo to realize that like all meetings, only the one doing the speaking was even the slightest bit interested in what was being said, and the rest just wanted to be allowed to go and do their jobs.

It was at that exact moment that Remo became aware that Chiun was in the building.

It wasn't any special Sinanju skill, he simply heard the sniff.

Remo knew that sniff. He had heard it for more than two decades whenever Remo's elbow moved a fraction of a centimeter out of alignment in a strike. Whenever a hit took any longer than absolutely necessary. Whenever a beautiful woman showed any interest in Remo. Whenever Remo did anything at all that Chiun found the slightest fault with.

No one on Earth could pack as much disgust and disappointment into a single sniff as Chiun could, he spent his spare time hanging out with Jewish grandmothers in Florida working on improving the technique.

Remo decided then and there he was tired of the man he thought of as his father looking down on him like this. Tonight he would show Chiun exactly what he was capable of!

The next sixty seven seconds was a demonstration in the perfection of Sinanju technique as Remo carefully and precisely waltzed through the mass of terrorists, weaving through their number back and forth, dealing delayed death strikes as he went.

The enemy crowed as they managed to get into position finally. There would be no escape for the crazy man who had wandered in slapping and poking the Warriors of Truth! As the thirty-seven men trained their weapons on Remo and prepared to pull their triggers, they suddenly all dropped dead at once.

Again, Remo heard a sniff behind him, but it wasn't the sniff of disgust he was used to hearing, this one was a sniff of The Master of Sinanju holding back tears of joy!

His proud smile vanished when as he turned around, Remo discovered that Chiun didn't appear to have paid the slightest attention to his performance. The old man was reading a letter.

"Little Father?" Remo asked, wondering what could have made Chiun so happy.

"It is your brother. He has managed to get paid four times for one hit! And he collected a bounty on seven werebeasts." Chiun crowed.

Remo found himself blinking at that. "Good for Harry. What did you think of my performance here then?"

"Yes, I noticed your work,” the Master of Sinanju said distractedly, still gazing at the letter. “Your start was rather sloppy and the end rather showy, but on the whole I'd rate it as..."

Remo leaned forward intently. “Yes, Little Father?”

"Adequate," Chiun announced and turned and walked away without a second glance.

Remo heard the word adequate echo in his head for several seconds, before bursting out in a broad smile. “Adequate”

“Adequate for a fat clumsy white thing, yes.” The old man added from the darkness.

“Adequate,” Remo said the word again, as if relishing the entire concept. “Yes! I swear I could walk on water right now!'

"No, as clumsy as you are, you would be required to run to keep your footing," Chiun called back as he disappeared into the night.

Remo just smiled. Chiun called him adequate. He must have impressed the old man; Chiun had never been so lavish with his praise before.


A/N: the last:
It has been pointed out to me by several of my Pre-readers that they didn’t understand why Harry thought Millie was such a babe. One needs to bear in mind that beauty is a cultural thing, and that Harry was raised in a culture very different than ours. The Great and Powerful Ed Becerra explained it best: “He was raised in Korea, in a peasant village, by a father who considers "beauty" to be how well a woman can work in a field, keep a home, and raise children in a land where starvation is a constant specter. By those standards, the current model of Western beauty would be a twig who couldn't do ANYTHING useful. Whereas a woman who could one-punch a water buffalo would be a goddess.” So, yeah, Harry’s going to be nursing a bit of a crush on Millie for the rest of this story… Which isn’t going to prevent him from doing his job.

Many thanks to Meteoricshipwards on the Caer Azkaban newsgroup for his suggestion that was the kernel of the ‘reaction of the Slytherin girls’ scene, and to Ubereng also on Caer Azkaban for his suggestion for using the Ministry’s contract on Voldemort to abuse Dumbledore, just a little bit… ‘it’s for the children!’, and the final scene where Chiun rubs Remo’s face in Harry’s salesmanship was mostly written by dogbertcarroll also of Caer Azkaban and slightly modified by me. I only steal from the best.

Horace Nihil (and honest to god French speaking French type person) was kind enough to proved me with some interesting French phrases for this chapter. Translations:

Ordure ! rends moi mon corps, charogne !
(“give me my body back”, charogne = corpse (suits Voldie !) )

- Petite bite, éjaculateur précoce. Je suis sure que Potter en a une plus grosse, bande mou »
(“little dick, etc. I’m sure that Potter’s bigger than yours, …”)
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