FicWad

On the dance floor, Harry tried to listen to Hermione over the pounding music.

“Harry, there’s something I have to tell you. I haven’t told Ron yet. When they analyzed the Priori Incantem data you sent us from that strange wizard’s wand, the magi-forensic office came across a spell they had never seen before. They asked me to do some research. I saw what it was and went straight to the Minister. He told me to get over here right away and to bring Ron and a Basilisk fang.”

Harry gasped. The only use he knew of for a Basilisk fang was to destroy a horocrux. He, Ron and Hermione were the only people alive who knew the full story of Voldemort’s horocruxes. They had not even told everything to the Minister of Magic himself.

“Do you mean that the wizard who attacked me made a ...?” Harry asked with horror.

Horocrux making was the darkest of the dark arts. He had thought that Voldemort was the only wizard in centuries to have attempted it. Then he looked towards their table and saw that Jason was gone.

“Harry, keep dancing, act normally,” Hermione shouted.

“He’s run away,” Harry shouted back. He raced to the door, but Bourne was out of sight. The magic detector was useless. Harry had been able to track Bourne easily in New York because Bourne had been giving off bursts of spontaneous magic. Now his magic was under control and would be released only when he used his wand. The detector flashed twice but the spells were faint. Harry realized that Bourne must be several blocks away.

Hermione was in the doorway shouting at Ron.

“You let him get away! Why weren’t you watching him.”

“What do you mean, watching him?”

“Watching Jason so he didn’t get away. That’s what we’re here for, to help Harry.”

“No one ever told me that,” Ron protested. “I thought that we were just here to visit for a few days.”

“This was a secret mission,” Hermione replied. “I was under orders not to tell you anything until I had spoken to Harry.”

“What was I supposed to do? Read your mind?”

“Stop it, you two, please,” Harry broke in. “We don’t have time for this.”

They found a quiet café and Hermione completed her story.

“The name of the wizard who attacked you is Tiberius Prince. He’s a first cousin of Professor Snape on his mother’s side.”

Harry and Ron chuckled. Hermione was never able to break the habit of deference to teachers.

“Their father Nero,” Hermione continued, “moved to America when the Ministry started asking too many questions about some of his activities. He did very well in business and his sons, Tiberius and Gaius, have a lot of influential friends in the Department of Magic. The Prince family cut Eileen Prince off when she married a Muggle, but at some point, Snape got back in touch with his cousins.”

“So how does Jason fit in?” Harry asked.

“Snape was there when the Bones family was killed. Someone told him to get rid of Edmund but he couldn’t bring himself to kill a baby. I mean we know he was a git, but he was never totally evil. He arranged for his cousins to take the baby to America. He expected that they would place him with a wizard family but instead, they arranged for him to be adopted by Muggles. They ran his life as an experiment in producing a new kind of wizard.”

"I knew all of that," Harry said. "What about the horocrux? If the Ministry thinks that this Tiberius Prince made one for himself, why don't they just report it to the Americans? You can't get away with something like that no matter how many big shot friends you have."

“That's not the problem,” Hermione replied, “He made the horocrux for Jason.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Harry said. “Why would anyone make a horocrux with someone else’s soul.”

“Insurance,” Ron said. “If you’ve spent thirty years experimenting on someone, you wouldn’t want to lose him.”

“There’s another reason,” Hermione added. “If you own a piece of someone’s soul, you can control him.”

Two men were standing beside them. One of them handed Harry a piece of paper. It was a request that they attend immediately at the offices of the Regie de Magique. The men escorted Harry, Ron and Hermione to a building in the old part of the City. They were taken to a conference room where a witch, who reminded Harry strongly of Dolores Umbridge, was waiting for them.

"First let me say what an honour it is to meet you Mr. Potter," the unknown witch began. "My name is Marie-Joseph Latuilippe-Corriveau, Assistant Secretary to the Gouvernour."

They exchanged pleasantries, but it was clear that this was not just a social call. The door remained open, but the two wizards who had brought them were standing guard outside.

"Your arrival here took us somewhat by surprise," Madame Latulippe-Corriveau continued. "We were concerned that you did not obtain prior clearance or report to our office on arrival."

"Well, you see, I wasn't really planning to come here," Harry said.

"That was not a problem. We contacted your Minister and he explained that you were on an assignment to escort a certain British wizard home. He assured us that you would not stay long and asked the we leave you and your guest undisturbed. Naturally, we were only too happy to assist the famous Harry Potter, but we really cannot overlook the events of tonight."

"What events?" Harry asked.

"We received reports of an unknown individual running through the streets, waving a wand and firing spells. Most of the spells were minor and could be ignored, but we found one Muggle who was under a full body-bind curse. There was also a second unconscious Muggle, but his injuries were not caused by magic."

"So, where is my guest now?" Harry asked.

"We don't know. At around midnight we had to call off the search and use every available witch and wizard to break up a magically created ice jam. We want answers from you, Mr. Potter. What are you doing here?"

"I thought the Minister had explained that. My guest is a British born wizard who had become separated from his family early in the last war."

"Surely that would be a job for the magical social services branch? Why send a trained Auror when so many followers of the Dark Lord are still at large in Britain?"

"It came up quickly, and I was available?"

"But then what about your friends. It seems rather odd that your two closest companions in the struggle against He Who Must Not be Named would come here on a pleasure trip at this time of year."

“No, I’m here on business,” Ron broke in.

Hermione glared.

“I’m a partner with my brother in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We’re looking for a North American distributor for our new brand of firework.”

He took out a firework and placed it on the table. It exploded in a blaze of colour and light. The guards rushed into the room and tried to extinguish it but only succeeded in multiplying it tenfold.

Harry, Hermione and Ron ran to the entrance hall and found an Apparation station.

"That was brilliant, Ron," Hermione said.

She took Ron and Harry by the hand and said, "Let's get out of here."

They materialized in a different city.

“Where are we?” Harry asked.

“Toronto. I’m taking us to Las Vegas in stages,” Hermione said. “From here we’ll go to Detroit and them head south. It should take us five or six jumps.”

“No way,” Ron said. “We’re going to the airport and flying there.”

“Ron, you’re only saying that so you can tell you’re father that you’ve been on an airplane,” Hermione said.

“No, I just don’t want to leave bits of me scattered all over North America.”

Harry and Hermione knew that Ron was right. His Apparation was weak, and he risked being badly splinched if he attempted several long distance jumps.

On their way to the airport they reviewed the situation.

“Something must have caused Jason to panic and run from the club,” Harry said. “He didn’t have any anti-Muggle concealment charm, so the CIA men were able to follow him. He must have run and used magic to hold them off. I had taught him a few basic defensive spells, and he was getting fairly good.”

“Then those two Muggles must have cornered him in the alley” Ron continued. “Jason knocked one out with his fists but then another wizard came along and used the full body-bind on the other Muggle and captured Jason.”

“Then this wizard created the ice jam to distract the Regie de Magique while he escaped with Jason.” Hermione added.

"I think it's pretty clear what must have happened," Harry concluded. "The Prince brothers have Jason and we have to go and find him."

There was no argument about where they should start their search. The Nevada desert was beyond the pale of wizard law. The local magical authorities were mainly concerned with keeping magic out of the casinos. There were rumours of all sorts of dark magic in the ghost towns and abandoned silver mines. If you wanted to make a horocrux or hide a kidnap victim, Nevada was the place to go.

Jason doubled back to Montreal and caught a bus west to where the St. Lawrence River was the border. He used the glacius spell to cross the river into the United States. The strange wizard had a New England accent so Jason decided to start his search in Boston.

Harry had told him that there were magical quarters in most of the older cities on the eastern seaboard but he had no idea where they were. He found a deserted spot in Boston Common, took out his wand and sent up a shower of sparks. He sat down on a bench and waited. In less than half an hour he saw the pigeons scatter. An owl swooped down and landed beside him. There was piece of paper tied to the owl’s leg.

“ Welcome to Boston. You have been detected engaging in careless wand use in a Muggle area, contrary to Section 45(a)(I) of the local protocols to the American Statute of Magical Secrecy. As this is a first offence, you have the option of entering a guilty plea and paying a small fine at the office of the local magistrate. Further violations may result in more serious sanctions up to and including confiscation of your wand.”

Attached to the citation was a map and directions to the court house. Jason headed for north Boston and found an obscure alley near Old North Church. As directed, he tapped his wand on a brick and the wall opened.

He stepped into a wide, colonial era street filled with shops. Men and women in robes were walking about. Jason remembered Harry describing his first trip to Diagon Alley and for a moment he felt the same child like delight. He was safe. He had found a place in the heart of America where even the CIA could not trace him. The feeling did not last long. He remembered that he had enemies in this world as well.

Jason could not remember a time when he had not known danger, but it had always been danger he could recognize and avoid. He was thoroughly trained in counter-surveillance. However much they tried to disguise or conceal themselves, the hard men with guns always gave themselves away.

Now danger might be anywhere, but he could no longer spot it. Everyone around him was carrying a wand and could use it in ways he could not even imagine. He remembered some stories Harry had told him. At any moment, an old man with a wooden leg might turn him into a ferret. A frail girl could hit him with a stunning spell harder than the hardest punch he could throw.

Jason bought a second hand robe so that he could blend in with the crowd. His hair was a problem. Wizards did not go for military style cuts. It would take weeks for him to grow it out. Then he realized that he was thinking like a Muggle. He found a magical barbershop and in half an hour he was sporting a ponytail and a full beard.

The Prince brothers received word of Bourne’s arrival.

“You should take him now,” Gaius insisted.

“We can’t risk staging a kidnapping in our home town. If the authorities got involved it could ruin everything.”

“It could ruin everything if the authorities found that Bourne was carrying your wand.”

“He won’t stay long. I know this man. He is looking for something he won’t find here.”

Bourne was looking for someone to teach him to fight with magic. He found a bookstore and bought a book on beginner magic. He spent some time skimming it, but all it contained were simple spells for household use. At the bookstore, he had seen a post advertising a duelling school. He found it and asked for private lessons.

The receptionist handed him a sheaf of papers. Before he could start, he would need a license from the Department of Magic, Dangerous Spells Regulation Bureau and a probationary membership in the New England Wizard Duellists Association. He would have to fill out a personal history form and submit two character references. Bourne muttered some choice comments about bureaucracy and Massachusetts liberals. It was time to move on.

He went to the court house to pay his fine. In the waiting area, he sat down beside the shadiest looking character he could find and struck up a conversation.

“You from around here?” Bourne asked.

“No, what about you?”

“I’m from down south, just visiting, I want to move on,” Bourne replied.

“Where you going?”

“Not sure, somewhere they don’t have as many rules and people don’t ask as many questions.”

“Place you want to go is Vegas. No questions asked is the motto around there.”

Bourne smiled, the wizard world wasn’t so different after all. “Sounds good to me,” he said. “How do I get there?”

“There’s a port-key that leaves every day at ten.”