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That night, Harry found himself staring at the wooden beams above his head.  As everyone had repeatedly informed him, his biggest problem, was that he was a teenage boy.

And he didn’t really want to be a teenage boy – not anymore.  He was bored of it.  Besides, he was a fake teenager anyway.  Teenagers didn’t have to fight for their lives every year.  Teenagers didn’t have people trying to kill them.

“Dobby,” he called.

The elf appeared instantly, looking wide awake, despite the hour.  “Do you ever sleep?” Harry asked.

Dobby nodded enthusiastically.  “Dobby hadest a great ten minutes of sleep before earlier!”

“I need your help for me to do something really stupid.”

Dobby nodded again, a little less enthusiastically. 

“I need food and drink for around six months, and I’d prefer it if I could just heat the food up with a charm.”

“Harry Potter sir is going away?” Dobby gasped.

“What? No,” Harry said.  “There’s an extreme button on the Time Dilator, and I’m going to use it.”

Dobby looked relieved.  “Dobby can be’s doing that.  All house elves are being bored as nightest time.  I’s get them all to start cooking and charming, and your foods will be ready in two hours.”

“Brilliant!” Harry said.  “Make sure you get Fred and George to give you money in the morning to cover all the food.”

Dobby nodded and popped away.

Harry climbed out of bed, and with a wave of his wand, shrunk his trunk, and before he could talk himself out of it, he snuck into Hogwarts, and up to the library.

He placed the Dilator on the table, and looked around.  It was probably big enough for what he needed to do.  And more importantly, it had the books he needed.

He picked up the book he was currently reading, and started to read.

Elves started to pop in and out, filling up a corner with charmed food.  They continued for over an hour, and looked extremely happy to be doing so.

When they were done, he thanked them all, and as they popped out, he hit the button.

He lasted less than two days, judging by the food he’d eaten, as his watch had stopped, before his own stink forced him to give up.  The library was not suitable.  It might have the books, but it had no shower, no toilet (although he had used a charm on that), no place to exercise, and no where to sleep comfortably.

“Dobby,” he called.

Dobby popped back in eagerly.  “Harry Potter was only being gone for a minute,” Dobby said.

“I screwed up, Dobby,” he explained.  “Do you know anywhere that would be more suitable?  I need somewhere so that I can practice magic, can teach myself new things, and exercise.”

“Harry Potter is trying to become great and powerful wizard?”

“Kinda, yeah,” Harry agreed.  “I want to have a chance of living, and as much as my friends are helping, I have to take responsibility for myself.”

Dobby swelled up with pride.  “Dobby is knowing of a room,” he said.  “It is being called the come-and-go room, or the Room of Requirement.  It is appearing for wizards in need, and Dobby is thinking Harry Potter is in real need.”

“That would be great,” Harry said enthusiastically, and followed the elf to the seventh floor, and followed Dobby’s instructions to think about what he needed as he walked back and forth.

A door appeared, and he gasped as he entered.  It was huge.  There was a shower in one corner, next to a bath, a sink, and more importantly, a toilet.

A fair distance away stood a huge bed, and as he watched, Dobby unpacked his trunk into a wardrobe.

Other elves started transferring the food he had left.

He continued to look around, smiling at the exercise area, and the large library, as well as the potions area.  The final place was duelling platform.

“This,” Harry said, in awe, “is brilliant.  You are a wonder, Dobby.”

Dobby smiled brightly and popped out.  And for the second time, Harry hit the button.

---

Albus Dumbledore looked up as the lights dimmed, and the school seemed to slow down.  He frowned; someone was using a lot of Hogwarts’ magic.  He closed his eyes, and tried to find out what was going on, only for his attempt to fail completely.

He blinked in surprise, and tried again, only for the same response.

The only reason that would happen that made any sense to him, was if Hogwarts approved of the use of magic, and more, was helping.

It wasn’t unknown for Hogwarts to help with a spell, but it hadn’t happened in his lifetime.

He pulled out his wand and cast Lumos, and went back to reading the reports on his desk.  He’d find out eventually what was going on.

---

Sidney wasn’t a very good conversationalist. 

He was, on the other hand, an excellent listener.

He was also inanimate.

And wooden – really wooden, as in cut from a block of mahogany.

With hair conjured out of paper.

And a face transfigured from leftovers.

He didn’t judge, he didn’t berate Harry for being petty or childish.  He just watched.

And he was the only person Harry had talked to for far longer than he wanted to remember.  It was all very well planning on staying this long, but he had noted a detrimental effect or two.

“Do you think I’m going mad, Sidney?”

Sidney didn’t answer.

“I suspect so, logically, I know that talking to you in insane, and yet I do feel that you are what is anchoring me to the here and now, despite the here and now not being the here and now at all.”

Sidney seemed to nod in agreement.

“Right, it’s time for my push ups, count for me?”

Sidney seemed to nod again, and he settled down and started pressing.  After the first few times of trying to increase his fitness, he’d given in and actually studied it.  He had been pushing himself daily, with no rest periods, and had actually hurt himself doing so.  He was now on a strict, challenging routine designed to boost his speed and strength.

“All right,” he cheered as he collapsed face down on the mat.  “I did it.”

Sidney didn’t offer any verbal congratulations.

“I think that I’m going to have to limit my time in here,” Harry announced.  “I know it will change our relationship somewhat.”

Sidney gave his normal possible-nod.

“I think I started talking to you after a month, so I’ll limit it to four weeks a night.  Then get some conversation and come back.

Sidney didn’t approve of that idea.

“I also need a better way of training, because really, reading and practising aren’t enough.  I might know more spells, but I’ve got no way of doing better on other things.”

Sidney agreed.

“I could invite other people to come in, but that wouldn’t be fair.  The lack of real light is strange, and I could do with seeing outside again.  And it is asking people to give up part of their life.”

Sidney showed his agreement again.

“So I’ll keep it a secret, and do a month every night.  I can be done by Christmas.”

Sidney really didn’t like that.

“So that’s what I’ll do,” Harry announced.  “And study some ways of helping myself out.  Maybe some golems would work, if I can find a spell, then I can see if I can get Lisa to train one, that will get me started.”

Sidney approved.

“And maybe we can find you a girlfriend; that would be nice.”

Sidney really approved of that.

Several sessions later, he couldn’t call them days, he finished his final meal, and hit the button to stop the Dilator.

“Dobby?”

Dobby popped in.  “Harry Potter needs a shave!”

Harry blinked at him.  He hadn’t heard anyone speak but himself for ages.  “Yeah,” he agreed.  “I thought I’d try it out.”

“Not good,” Dobby advised.

“Probably not,” Harry agreed slowly.

“And Dobby will be needing to adjust some of Harry Potters clothes.  Harry Potter is having shoulders.”

“It’s good to see you, and hear from you, Dobby.”

Dobby bounced happily.

“I’ll go and shave,” he said, “then return to my bed.  How long was I gone?”

“Seven hours,” Dobby said.  “Yous had foods for seven months!”

Harry blinked.  He thought he’d only been gone for three months.  He moved over to the mirror, and laughed at himself.  It was strange how just a few words made everything better.

He shaved quickly, and bounced out of the room, leaving it to Dobby to clear up.  He climbed into bed for a nap, eagerly looking forward to the next morning.

He bounced out of bed as soon as it was light, dressed in some of the clothes Dobby had laid out for him, and walked to Hogwarts after greeting Crusher and Smasher.

Gabrielle met him half way, and he picked her up, threw her high into the air, and caught her.  He hugged her tightly.  “Hi,” he said.

She giggled and kissed him on the cheek.  “You missed me,” she announced.  “Lots.”

“I always miss you,” he replied.

“Not like this before,” she said.  “Strange.”  They walked into the school and Gabrielle wiggled out of his arms, a frown on her face.  She touched the floor, and then took a hold of Harry’s leg.  She looked at Harry in confusion.  “Hogwarts is tired,” she said.  “But happy.  Like she did something she’s proud off and wants to do it again.”

Harry smiled and lightly touched the floor, sending his thanks.  Now that he knew Hogwarts was happy, and he more convinced than ever to continue on his path.

The next few weeks seemed to pass in a blur.  All his free time was taken up with his lessons, including the hour or two he would spend every night with Gabrielle, before using the time dilator to squeeze everything else in in the evenings.  Then every night, at around three am, he’d go to the Room of Requirement and spend a month there.  

Lisa, more than anyone else, was astounded with his progress.  He half wished he could tell her that every night he would practice for the equivalent of ninety hours.  So his progress was just dedication, and not miraculous.

She quickly introduced him to a down-to-earth Wizard named Ben.  Ben was Lisa’s father, and was the current United Kingdom kick-boxing champion.  He was into the sport before he came to Hogwarts, and as soon as he finished school, got back into the scene, which was where he met Lisa’s now deceased mother.

Lisa was fast, but Ben was sudden.  It was a speed he wanted desperately, so he did everything they told him, no matter how repetitive they were.  It was after the third month in the room that he realised they were training his subconscious in how to act in a fight.  That was a turning point from him, and the little bit he’d been holding back was now throw into his effort.

In the Room of Requirement, Sidney remained his companion, along with Janice.

Although he was a little spooked when little Christopher appeared, and Harry had no memory of creating him.

The other thing that spooked him was that he would often go to sleep in his bed, but would wake up on the cold hard stone of Hogwarts, in the middle of the Room of Requirement.  It wasn’t the waking that spooked him, as much as the fact that he always felt less alone, and was never cold.

In the end, he gave up on the bed, and would sleep on the stone directly, covered in a light blanket, and using his arm as a pillow.  The cold stone seemed to drain the energy from him, so that he slept incredibly deeply, and yet he would wake up refreshed and ready for another day’s learning.

He felt something was changing inside him, but he didn’t know what, and soon put it out of his mind.

One month, he decided to see what he could to increase his magical reserves.  There were some rituals for that, but he didn’t like the idea of them – the cost was to high, so he went for the hard way.  Casting spell after spell until he was exhausted and had nothing left, then doing it again.

Running out of magic was painful, as spells tried to pull magic from every pore of his body.  He did this every six hours, as the book suggested, and did start to see an improvement after three weeks.

Each month, he’d study some books and practice the spells, just to see what was available, often picking books up at random.  He had no idea when he’d need to animate an army of statues, or being able to enchant an apple to display a name seemed pointless, but he learned the spells anyway.

At the end of each month, he’d test himself to check that he had actually learned things.

Back in real time, and after consultation with the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students they decided to only eat on the Ship on weekends, and do without the wine during the week.

Hermione was accompanying him to a lot of his extra normal lessons, enjoying the experience.  She was also working hard on the mental protection issues. 

Smasher and Crusher were happy to do what they could to help her research.  Even if it just meant keeping her company and keeping other students away.

In Transfiguration, he had been informed about the Yule Ball.  Gabrielle had suggested that he ask Fleur, but he had demurred.  To his amusement, Gabrielle had said that her sister might be a cow, but she was the prettiest girl there.

Viktor had immediately asked Hermione, and Christophe had asked Melissa.  Most of his friends had wasted no time in getting the girls and boys that they wanted.

Which left Harry to get his own date.

He walked into the darkened class room, and smiled.  Kate was lounging on the bed, wearing high cut knickers, a pair of black high-heels and a languid smile.

She rolled off the bed, smiling sexily at him.

He pulled off his robes, then his shirt.  “Doing anything at Christmas?” he asked.

“Why?”

“I want you to go to the Yule Ball with me.”

Kate stiffened slightly.

“Don’t worry,” he said firmly, “I’m not asking you on a date.”

Kate relaxed a little. 

“This is strictly business – like everything else between us.  You’ve made it very clear that I’m not to fall in love with you, and I’m not.  I am, however, in a situation, where I want a beautiful escort for an evening.  I really don’t want to deal with any of the witches at the school, and you’d send a message to everyone here.”

She slowly smiled at him.  “Good boy,” she praised.  “I’ll add the evening to the bill.”

He nodded.

“I presume you want me to knock-em dead?”

“Definitely. 

“Sounds like fun.  So, let’s see what you remember from last time?”

There was something that he loved about dancing with a nearly naked lady.  The fact that she was gorgeous was a bonus.

They never talked about her work, and he was happy with that.  He knew what she did, and put any uncomfortable-ness about it behind him.

Kate was a professional escort.  That was her job, it was her career choice, she wasn’t forced into it – it was what she did by choice.  She was well educated, and well trained.  She could make a guy feel like a king.  And as a boy, with very little experience (well, none, if he was honest to himself) he had been very susceptible to her charms, and he was incredibly grateful that she hadn’t taken advantage of it.

He suspected that he actually learnt more with her than with all the others.  She gave him confidence and a sense that he was an adult, and could act as one.

He moved with her automatically, before he bent her over and stole a kiss.  “Thanks,” he said.

“That’s what I’m paid for,” she replied cheerfully.  “Now, let’s do that dance again, and this time, mean it!”

He grinned, and pulled her close.

“Do you know that you’re two inches taller than when you started with me?” she asked softly.  “And that you’ve added shoulders, biceps, the start of some pecs, a firm stomach, and leg muscles?”

“I’ve been working out,” he said.

“No,” Kate responded slowly, “this is impossible growth.  I’m presuming I’m the only person who’s really seen you naked?”

He nodded.

“Then you may get away with calling it puberty, but not to me.  Want to explain?”

“I’m playing with time.  I’ve got a Time Dilator, that allows me spend a month in a room for around an hour outside.”

“That’s logically inconsistent,” Kate pointed out.  “Dilating time would make it slower, surely?”

“Don’t call me Shirley,” Harry said with a grin, causing Kate to lightly punch his arm.

“Perhaps it dilates time outside the room?”

“Only a wizard would make a device that affected the rest of creation,” Kate muttered.  “I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as it works.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

“So how old are you now?”

Harry thought for a few minutes, adding up each night that he’d done, “almost seventeen.”

“Well,” Kate said, “that is well past the age of consent,” she purred, as she pushed him onto the bed and kissed him seriously.

---

In real time, his lessons with Kate continued, as she continued her quest to make him a fit into whatever situation he found himself in.  He learned more about females than he ever knew existed.

Melissa kept up her lessons about politics for a while, but as Harry was studying in his own time, she soon moved on to psychology.  She would teach in one lesson, then test in another and the words she had used when he had failed one test still reverberated around his head. 

His duelling and charms lessons were going fine; he really enjoyed them, and worked as hard as he could, both during real time and part time.

His continued growth wasn’t all good though, the weight and height he had put on meant a shopping trip during a Hogsmeade day.

Gabrielle, Adrienne, Melissa, and Hermione had ganged up on him, and he was forced to use his money for something other than education and protection.

Gabrielle was presenting her homework to him every morning, with a degree of pride.  Her pride was nothing compared to his.  Gabrielle worked so hard for him, and he was so impressed.

Hermione spent as much time with him, and his friends, as she could.  She loved speaking to the older students, and it was dragging her out into being a better rounded person.  Every weekend, she could be found sipping wine while talking with everyone else.  She was normally with a French girl named Chloe, and her boyfriend, Andrew.

Hermione had even had a conversation with him regarding Viktor.  She politely requested that he tell Viktor that he wasn’t adverse to the odd kiss between the two, as Viktor was terrified of him.

He’d solemnly promised to do so – and had, with the proviso that Viktor understood that Hermione’s ‘no’ was a ‘no’ and not a ‘maybe’.

Christophe and Melissa were a lot closer, and he’d had a quiet word with Christophe as well, just to make sure.

Melissa had shouted at him for ten minutes for that one… then given him a big hug.

His relationship with the students in his year was still practically non-existent, but he was a lot friendlier with the senior year.  His wine creating skill probably helped that, as he’d been happy to provide Melissa with a barrel or two.

He hadn’t spoken to Dumbledore at all, and was more than happy with that – especially as he saw Sirius at least once a week. 

He was getting on better with all his professors – with the exception of Snape, obviously.  They seemed to appreciate the extra effort he was putting in, and the way he was looking after Gabrielle.

At the end of the Christmas term, and a few of the Hogwarts students had left for home, the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons students had decided to stay, which was great for Harry.  He was able to rearrange his classes for during the day, which allowed him the evenings to spend time with his friends.

He’d also decided to stop using the Dilator.  He had noticed that he hadn’t had the same benefits over the past few evenings, and that the room started misbehaving.  Gabrielle had informed him one morning that Hogwarts wasn’t happy, and that was enough of a reason to stop.  The last thing he wanted to do was ignore advice from Hogwarts.

He kept Sidney, Janice and Christopher, for sentimental reasons.  And before he closed the Room of Requirement, he stood in the middle of the room and gathered all his magic.  He poured it back into the school, trying to give something back.

He had a wave of awed gratitude first, closely followed by approval float over him, as well as a sense of warning that he should stop playing with time now.

He did exactly that, cutting his lessons back to normal time.

He had received an invitation to go to the Weasleys, but he’d politely declined, sending a long letter to Molly and Arthur explaining why.  He received his Christmas present by return post, with a letter explaining that they understood completely, and that he was always welcome, regardless of his relationship with Ron and Ginny.

Fred and George had gone home, but were coming back most days to check on his training and to make sure that everything was going smoothly.

“Harry, Harry?”

He looked up from the book he was reading, as Gabrielle sprinted toward him with her usual exuberance.  She launched herself carelessly into the air from about three feet away and crashed landed on his lap.

“Hi?”

She grinned at him and ripped his book out of his hands, placing it down on the bench.  “My parents are here!  Come and meet them!”

“Okay, okay,” He agreed, as he stood.

“Carry me,” she ordered.  “They’re by the carriages.”

He smirked, and threw her other one shoulder in a firemen’s carry.  Gabrielle squealed her protest, as he started to jog.  He used a cushioning charm on his shoulder to ensure that she wasn’t hurt by it.

His bodyguards had the afternoon off, and Lisa had gone home for Christmas.  He’d promised not to go anywhere unaccompanied.

As they emerged from Hogwarts, he could see Fleur and Madame Maxime standing next to a distinguished looking couple.  He slowed to a fast walk as he walked over to meet them, Gabrielle still clamped firmly to his shoulder.  “Hi,” he greeted them in French, his lessons, and the fact that he was spending as much time as he could with his French friends meant that he was now proficient, if not fluent.  “Harry Potter,” he introduced himself.  “Gabrielle’s surrogate legs.”

“This is Marie, and I am Michael,” the male greeted him back, switching to English.  “Do her own legs not work?”

“Papa,” Gabrielle protested.

With a smile, he flipped Gabrielle into the air, and caught her on the way down.  She deliberately shook her hair as she did, sending her hair everywhere.

“You do that on purpose,” Harry scolded as he knelt on one knee and pulled a comb out of his pocket that he kept for exactly this reason. 

“Moi?” Gabrielle asked innocently, as she turned so that he could comb her hair.

“Yes, you,” he said dryly.

“Harry,” Michael called, “walk with me?  Fleur’s going to take Gabrielle to get changed.”

“Can Harry come this evening?” Gabrielle asked.

“Gabrielle!” the exclamation came from everyone, including Harry.

Gabrielle grinned, not intimidated in the slightest.

“Maybe,” Michael said.  “Go and get changed.”  Harry followed the man away from the carriage, and down the side of the Great Lake.

He watched Michael move with a small amount of jealousy.  The man was perfect.  With his blonde hair and blue eyes, his perfect nose, and his body that would have made Michelangelo itch for his hammer and chisel.

“Harry, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“I’ve heard very little about you,” Harry replied amiably.

“I am only a father,” Michael replied dryly.  “I am here to provide financial support, and occasional emotional support.  As you might have guessed, I am Veela.”

Harry nodded.

“I have a few gifts,” he continued, “one of them is the ability to tell if someone is lying to me.  Can I ask you a serious question while I turn this ability on?”

“Yes,” Harry said instantly.  He was really impressed that Michael had asked straight out.

Michael turned and looked at him, his blue eyes seemed massive.  Rather than fight it, Harry let himself go with it.  “Do you find my daughter sexually attractive?”

“Yes.”

Michael’s eyes darkened, a feeling of magic built up around him.  The promise of violence filled the air, causing Harry to reach for his wand.  “She’s only eight,” Michael ground out through his teeth.

Harry felt shock race through his body.  “What?  Fleur’s only eight!?”

The magic and threat of violence vanished.  Michael slowly started to blush.  “Come, Harry,” he ordered.

“Huh?”

“When you are married, you will find one rule in life.  When you make an absolute idiot of yourself, it is best to share it with your wife as soon as is possible.” 

Feeling extremely confused, Harry headed back to the carriage.  At Michael’s gesture, Marie walked over to meet them half way.

“Michael?” she asked.  “What have you done now?”

“I have just made a huge fool of myself.”

“How?”

“I asked Harry if he found my daughter sexually attractive.”

“And?”

“He replied yes, so I was ready to go all bird on him.  I said, dramatically I might add, ‘she’s only eight’.  Harry looked at me, confusion in his eyes, and you know what he said?”

“No?”

“He didn’t even think about it, he just blurted, ‘Fleur’s only eight?’”

Marie looked at Michael for a second, before her lips started to twitch.  “Oh Michael,” she whispered, before she took a step forward and buried her face in his shoulder, as she laughed hysterically.

When she had finished, Harry asked, “does someone want to let me in on the joke?”

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Michael said.  “I asked the wrong question.  What I should have asked is, ‘do you find Gabrielle sexually attractive?’”

“What!?” Harry demanded.  “She’s only eight!”

Michael and Marie looked at each other and burst into laughter again.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Michael eventually said.  “It’s not unknown for men to like Veela children, no matter what their age, and while Olympe was pretty sure you weren’t like that, I wanted to make sure for myself.  However, by screwing up the question like I did, I know you’re not.”

“Right,” Harry said slowly.  “Thanks, I think.  So you don’t mind that I find Fleur attractive?”

“You’re a teenage male, Fleur’s an Adult Veela,” Michael said dismissively, “of course you’re going to find her attractive.”

“True,” Harry agreed, starting to relax.  He smiled, a little wickedly.  “So, do I mention now that I find Michael just as attractive?”

Michael blinked, before he looked at Harry’s face.  “Tease.”

“Oh no,” Harry replied silkily, as he moved forward, and ran a nail down the front of Michael’s shirt.  “A tease isn’t there at the end of the day.”

Michael stepped backward rapidly, looking at his wife in shock.  Harry grinned at her, and then winked.

Marie looked at Harry for a second, before she started to snigger.  “Dear,” she started, to her husband, “I believe that Harry’s just had his revenge on you.”

“Harry,” Michael said seriously, “who the hell are you?”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.  “I’m Harry Potter, that’s all I have been.”

“You’re a teenage boy; there is no way that you should be so comfortable with your own sexuality that you can play games with a male Veela.  Most adults aren’t comfortable enough.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Harry offered.  “Come to the Yule Ball, and I’ll tell you a little about it.”

“We’re not invited,” Michael pointed out.

“I just invited you,” Harry grinned.  “Besides, you’re the parents of a Champion.”

“We’d have to get a babysitter,” Marie said slowly, “but it would be fun to have a night out.”

“Then bring her along,” Harry suggested.  “She’ll have fun.”

“Are you sure?”

“Trust me,” Harry said cheerfully.  “I love Gabrielle, I’ve got two other girls I love, one is now dating Christophe, the other is dating Viktor, and I keep an eye on them.  Gabrielle’s younger, so I can be a lot more overtly protective and no one is upset.”

“Okay,” Marie agreed.  “On one condition.”

“Which is?” Harry asked warily.

“That you come to dinner with us now.”

“Oh, sure,” Harry agreed.  “I’m finished for the day.  Should I get changed?”

“You can borrow a shirt from Michael,” Marie decided, after looking him up and down.  He was wearing black trousers and smart shoes, along with a casual blue shirt.

They headed back to the carriage, and entered.  Gabrielle and Fleur were talking, while sat on a small couch.

“We’re going to have to go shopping, Gabrielle,” Harry announced, as he walked in and took his robes off.

“I’ll get you a shirt,” Michael said to Harry as he vanished through a door.

“Why?” Gabrielle asked him.

“Because you’ve got to look your best when you come to the Yule Ball.”

Gabrielle looked at him for a long moment, her eyes flashing as she rewound his words.  “Really?” she gasped, looking at her mother.

“Harry was most persuasive.”

Gabrielle’s yell of happiness was nearly deafening, and a second later he had around fifty five pounds of excited Veela hugging him as tightly as she could. 

He laughed, and peeled her off him, and walked over to Michael.  “Swap?”

Michael nodded, and they exchanged Gabrielle for a shirt.  Fleur was frowning, while Marie was smiling at them.

Harry quickly pulled off his t-shirt, flicked his wand out, and shrunk it, before putting it in his pocket, before he quickly did the shirt up.

“I might have reacted differently, earlier,” Michael purred.

“The offer is still on, sweetie,” Harry replied.

“What, wait,” Fleur said, “You’re flirting with papa?”

“Are we flirting?” Harry asked, taking Gabrielle back.

“Probably.”

“Yes, Fleur,” Harry said patiently.  “I’m flirting with your dad.  It’s against the rules for a man to flirt with another man’s wife, so what choice do I have?”

Fleur looked completely nonplussed.

“Harry, we’re going to Apparate to London.  I’m taking Gabrielle and helping Fleur,” Marie said, as they headed toward the gates.  “Michael can take you.”

“I think I’d rather take him,” Harry purred.

“Stop that,” Michael said, poking him.  “She meant Apparate you.”

“Oh,” Harry said, “Okay then.  Where in London?”

“La Rochelle, in Charlotte Street.”

Harry nodded, as soon as he felt that they were through the wards, he winked at Gabrielle.  “You know,” he said, “I’d just rather not be taken by Michael today,” and Apparated away.

They appeared in London, a little down the road from the restaurant, and next to a cash machine.  He quickly pulled his Gringotts card out and entered it.  A tap of his pin number later and he drew out a large amount of cash, the Goblin card bypassing the normal two hundred and fifty pound single transaction limit.

Gabrielle looked at him in shock.  He grinned at her.  She slowly grinned back, and then hugged him tightly.

“How did you do that?” Fleur demanded, as she arrived, holding her mother’s hand.  Michael was next to them.

“Do what?” Harry asked innocently.

“Get here?”

“It must have been Michael,” Harry decided.  “I’m far too young to know how to Apparate.”

“At some stage,” Michael said seriously, “we’re going to have to talk.”

“We have all evening,” Harry grinned.  Thanks to Kate, he knew what was expected of him in this situation, and exactly how to act.  And that if he didn’t act like a boy, no one would treat him like one.

He carried Gabrielle, who was wearing a fetching pale blue dress, into the restaurant, weaving his way casually through the crowds of people to the little table.

“Delacour, party of five,” he said firmly.

Without looking up, the concierge said, “wait at the bar, ten minutes.”

“Excuse me?” Harry said.   “Is basic politeness to much to ask?”

The man finally looked up and met Harry’s eyes.  Harry looked at him calmly, not backing down in anyway.  The concierge looked over at Harry’s party, before he blinked.  “My apologies, sir,” The concierge said.  “Your table will be ready immediately.”

Harry nodded and picked up the wine menu.  He scanned it quickly, before folding it up.  “We’ll have a bottle of Clos des Papes Châteauneuf-du-Pape, the ’63 please.”

“Excellent choice sir.  If you’ll follow me.”

Harry did exactly that, threading his way through the tables, and up a small set of stairs, to a raised area. 

“Thank you,” Harry said, palming some money from his pockets, and shaking the concierge’s hand.  “I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful evening.”

“If there is anything I can do, please let me know,” the concierge agreed.  “I am Jonathan.” 

“We will,” Harry agreed, as he sat Gabrielle down, and then held a chair for Fleur.  She shot him a strange look, before sitting down gracefully. Michael held a chair for Marie, before Harry took the last seat around the round table.  He was between Fleur and Gabrielle.

Before they could say anything, a waiter appeared with a bottle of wine.  He paused by Michael, who shook his head and indicated Harry.

Without a change in expression, the waiter uncorked the wine, and poured a small amount in Harry’s glass.

Harry held it up to the light, before swirling it and inhaling.  The ceremony seemed a little poncey to him, but when he has said that to Christophe, the boy had almost hit him.  He sipped it, and then frowned.

He reached up, removed the bottle from the waiter’s hand, and looked at the label.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I asked for the ’63, not the ’96.”

The waiter gulped.  “My mistake sir,” he said, “I’ll be right back.” 

The others around the table looked at him in shock.

The waiter didn’t actually return, Jonathan appeared in his place, less than two minutes later.

“My apologies,” Jonathan said, looking appalled.  “It is rare for one who barely appears twenty to know the difference between wine and vinegar.  The waiter thought you wouldn’t notice the difference.  A mistake he may make again, but not in this restaurant.”

“I’ve had a good teacher,” Harry replied blandly.  “The ’96 tastes like it still needs nappies.”

Jonathan smiled.  “As an apology, please have this bottle on the house.” 

Harry looked at it and whistled.  “Now that’s a wine,” he said reverently.

Jonathan nodded in agreement.  He opened it with more élan than the waiter had managed, and allowed Harry to taste it.

The taste was far superior.  Harry sighed in pleasure.  “Perfect,” he whispered. 

Jonathan quickly went around the table, pouring a glass out for each, including Gabrielle at Harry’s nod.

With a smile, Jonathan announced that a new waiter would be around shortly to take their order.

“Who are you?” Michael asked as soon as Jonathan left.  He had switched to French.

“A ‘leetle boy’ playing at being a being a grown up?” Harry asked, settling back comfortably. 

“No boy would sit like you are,” Marie said.  “No boy would be able to tell the difference between a good bottle of wine and a brilliant bottle.”

“Have you met Christophe?” Harry asked dryly.

“Apart from him,” Marie said, waving her hand.  “We would have been happy to wait at the bar.”

“The bar was to busy,” Harry said, “you and Fleur would have been inundated, Michael and I would have had to stand on guard, besides, have you looked in a mirror recently?  No mere concierge is going to make clientele like you wait.  All three of you give off rich and powerful vibes.  It had very little to do with me.”

“Arrogant child,” Fleur muttered, a little bitterly.

“Do you think Fleur that for just one night, you could forget what ever slight I gave you, and just have a good time?  If my presence is going to cause you a problem, then I will bid you all goodnight, and return to Hogwarts.”

Fleur stared at him.  He met her gaze, “don’t do it,” he advised her, “you know what happened last time.”

“Luck,” she sneered.

Harry leaned back and slowly finished his glass of wine, before he leaned over and kissed Gabrielle on the cheek.  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered.  “Michael, Marie, it’s been an honour to meet you.  I’ll look forward to the Ball.”  Before they could say anything, he was downstairs and speaking to Jonathan.

“Can I arrange to pay for their meal please?” he asked.  “Unfortunately, I’ve been called away for a crisis; our Scottish office is having problems.”

“I’m disappointed to hear that,” Jonathan replied.

“So am I,” Harry said, handing over his credit card.  A sign in the corner attracted his attention; it announced that they would be open on Christmas day.  “Do you have a table for two people on Christmas day?” he asked.  “Around six?”

“Absolutely,” Jonathan replied without looking at any schedule.

“Fantastic, this would be a perfect place to have a meal before the Ball that evening.”

“We’ll see you then, Mr?”

“Potter.  Harry Potter.”

Jonathan nodded, and handed Harry his card back.  Harry grinned, and walked outside, into the colder air.

He looked around, and decided not to go back to Hogwarts.  He was alone, in the middle of London, he was young, single, and had been working hard for years.  He needed to have some fun, and if there was one thing what had just happened proved, was that he looked older than he was.

However, he wasn’t completely irresponsible, so he magically sent a message to a few people, letting them know he was fine, and was heading for some fun on his own.

He walked randomly, vaguely heading south.  It was still a bit early, so he stopped in a pub for some adequate food, before he continued.  There was a queue forming outside one place.  Kate had informed him that he should never queue for anything, especially not a nightclub.

He walked to the front confidently; feeling like this evening was an exam of everything Kate had taught him.  He raised an eyebrow at the doorman, who nodded and pulled a rope to one side.  He slipped him another note and entered.

The interior was dark, lit by black lights everywhere he looked, which caused his shirt to glow.  Despite the relative earliness, it was packed.  He walked straight to the bathroom and used a cubicle to hide in while he cast a couple of charms on his ears, so that he wouldn’t be deafened.

He walked back into the nightclub and to the bar, where he quickly got a bottle of beer.  He walked to the dance floor and waited until he saw someone who looked good and was single.

It was about half an hour of people watching when he noticed her.  She was with a group of friends heading toward a table, she had long dark blonde hair, and when she smiled, had perfect teeth.  He moved over toward her, sliding through the crowd effortlessly.  “Hi,” he said, flashing her a grin.  “Do you want to dance?”

“What?” she asked, ignoring her friends, “No cheesy pick up line?”

He winked at her, “wouldn’t picking you up with a line be painful for you?”

She groaned.  “I dance, but only if you’re good enough.”

“Then we’ll have an evening of fun,” he replied.

“Confident, aren’t we?”

“No reason not to be.”

She stood, and offered her his hand.  He tugged it gently, sending her into a spin, before catching her, his leg between hers, holding her against him.

“Fun?” she asked

He grinned and pulled her out to the dance floor.  He didn’t care about anyone watching, because tonight he was just Harry.

“What’s your name?” she shouted.

“Harry,” he replied.  “Yours?”

“Annie.  Do you come here often?”

He smirked at her, as they danced around an older couple.  “I thought we said no pick up lines?”

She laughed, her head going back, her long hair bouncing.

As the music stopped, he held her against him, “Drink?”

“Are you trying to get me drunk?”

“Do I need to?”

“It might help,” she purred.

“Drink it is then.”  He pulled her over to the bar, and ordered another beer for him, and looked at her questioningly.

“Diamond White,” she ordered.

Their drinks appeared less than a minute later, and Harry happily overpaid the already outrageous bill.  It would ensure that he got the best service for the rest of the evening.

“You may as well come and meet my friends,” she said.

“Oh, well, then I better get a round in.”

Annie smiled slowly at him.  “Good idea,” she approved.

He nodded, and a barman appeared again.  “Six more,” she said, holding her bottle up.

“And a tray,” Harry added.  The bottles appeared, and he picked the tray up after over-paying again.

He followed Annie through the ever-growing crowd, sliding next to her on the table and placing the bottles down.

“Bribery,” he announced.

“What for?” One of them asked.

“So that you’ll go easy on an innocent boy having some fun.”

“When we see him, we’ll go easy,” another promised as she finished her bottle and reached for a new one.  “So, why did you pick Annie?”

Harry recognised the trap for what it was.  “Because she stood out like a lily in a field full of chrysanthemums.  All the flowers are beautiful, but this one’s just a little different.”

“Good answer,” the talkative one said with a smirk.  “And the real reason?”

He saluted her with his beer.  “Will I get hit if I tell the truth?”

“Probably,” she said.

“Dawn!” Annie protested.

He winked at her.  “It was because of how Annie walked to the table.  You all walked normally, Annie seemed to glide.  It was a pretty good hint that she knows how to dance, and as I came here to do exactly that…”

“So where are you friends?” Dawn asked.

“My friends?  Back in Scotland,” he answered, a little surprised by the change of direction.

“You came over here, to a group of girls, and asked the prettiest one out without backup?”

Harry looked around the girls, and then grinned, “yeah,” he agreed.  “She is the prettiest one.  It’s a close run thing, and another man would probably disagree.”

Annie glowed and hugged his arm, while the others rolled their eyes.

“So what do you do?”

Harry shrugged.  “I’m just a student, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Right,” another drawled.  “In a handmade Jean-Paul Gaultier shirt?”

Harry grinned at her, having no idea who Jean-Paul Gaultier was.  “I might also own the odd business, or two,” he confessed.  “My parents left them to me.”

“They’re dead then?” Dawn asked.

“Dawn!” Annie spat.

Dawn blushed.  “Open mouth, insert foot.”

Harry leaned to the side and looked under the table.  “Nice feet they are as well,” he said seriously.  “It happened when I was a baby, I’m over it now.”

“This conversation has taken a turn for the morbid,” Annie said, with a disgusted look at Dawn.  “Let’s dance?”

“For this evening, your wish is my command,” Harry said as he stood.

“Only for tonight?” Annie asked.

“Tomorrow, I’m going back to Scotland,” he said, a fake look of regret on his face.

“Then I better enjoy you while I can,” Annie said as she pulled him back out onto the dance floor.

Over the evening, he learnt that she worked as a dancer and was trying to become something more than a chorus girl.

They didn’t spend much time with the other girls, who danced a bit, but seemed more interested in people watching and drinking.

Annie didn’t drink much more, to his relief.

Toward the end of the night, she looked at him seriously.  “So,” she said, a little shyly, “my place or yours?”

He reached up and dragged his finger down her cheek, “we can say goodbye here,” he whispered.

“Do you want to?”

“Say goodbye, no,” he said, “but I can’t offer you anything, Annie.”

“Can you offer me tonight, Harry?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Then that will do,” she whispered back, covering his lips with hers.  “Let’s grab a taxi.”

He smiled and walked out with her, wrapping his arm around her as they entered the cold night air.

Her room was the top floor flat in an old building.  There were some leotards over the back of the chair, and she looked a little embarrassed at the general untidiness.

He smiled and crowded her against a wall, and kissed her. 

And one kiss quickly led to another.

---

Harry whistled cheerfully as he wandered back toward Hogwarts.  He was a little sad to say goodbye to Annie this morning, and had made a mental note to make sure that she got a break sooner or later.  But he hadn’t promised her anything he couldn’t deliver on.

What he wanted now was a long shower, and maybe a quick nap.

“Harry!”  He didn’t even need to look up to prepare for the blonde missile that was about to hit him, and he caught Gabrielle cleanly.

“Morning,” he greeted her cheerfully.

She hugged him, and then looked back, her eyes wide.  “You smell of girl,” she announced.

Harry shrugged and nodded.

“You had a good night then?”

“The best.”

“We were worried when you left,” she explained.  “Mum and Dad tried to find out what was going on, and by the time Dad tried to find you, you’d gone.  And Dad’s mad at you.”

“He is?”

“Yeah, you paid!”

Harry grinned.  “Why shouldn’t I?” he asked.  “I’ve got to make sure that you’re well fed.  You’re a growing girl after all.”

Gabrielle smiled and rested her head on his shoulder.

Harry carried Gabrielle into Hogwarts, to find all his bodyguards (including Lisa), Fred and George, as well as Michael and Marie sitting on chairs arranged in a circle around one corner.

“Harry,” Fred said, looking at him.

“Boss,” George continued. “Friend, defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“And sender of inadequate messages,” Fred finished.

“Yes,” George said.  “‘Guys, things didn’t work out with the Delacours, gone to explore London, be back tomorrow,’ is not the most useful of messages.”

“Yeah,” Crusher agreed.

“It doesn’t exactly give us any chance to get to you,” Lisa added.

Michael was looking at him, and then sniffed, before his eyes went wide.

“Yes,” Gabrielle agreed innocently, “he does smell of girl.”

There was a general silence as everyone looked at him.

“You went to London, and now you smell of girl?” Fred asked slowly.

“Annie,” Harry said with a shrug.  “Her name was Annie, and yes, we did have a good time -- dancing.”

Fred and George both had big grins on their faces.

Lisa stood and moved hear him, before she sat back down, a surprised look on her face.  “You’ve just made my job a lot harder,” she sighed.

“What?” Harry asked, a little surprised.

“It’s been bad enough that you’ve been putting on weight left, right and centre, that you have a habit of running around the lake topless, that you somehow look four or five years older than you are, but now you’re going out and sleeping with girls who are what, six years older than you?”

“Eight,” he mumbled.

“I’m going to have to beat the witches off with a stick!”

Harry relaxed, as he realised she wasn’t that serious.  “If it helps, I’m not concerned about anyone in Hogwarts.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Lisa grumbled.  “Rich, powerful, handsome, unavailable.  Please tell me that you’re not bringing her to the Ball?”

“She’s a Muggle,” Harry said with a sigh of regret.  “So no, I’m not bringing her.”  He smiled a little as he thought about Kate.

“Harry,” Lisa asked slowly, “who are you bringing?”

He smirked at her.

“Crap,” Lisa said.  “Right, we’ll need all of us on duty on Friday.”

“We were planning on it anyway,” Smasher said.  “So, are we going to get the full story?”

“Yeah,” Gabrielle agreed.

“The shortened version, as I need a shower.  I had dinner at a pub, wandered to a nightclub, and had a drink while I waited for someone to interest me.  I spotted Annie as she glided through the crowds of people, she was the only person who looked like she could dance, so I approached, asked her to dance, and the rest was history.”

He peeled Gabrielle from his chest.  “I’ll see you in two hours,” he said, “we’ve got some transfiguration to go through.”

She nodded as he placed her between her parents and stretched massively.  “Right, I’m going to shower and nap.  Catch you all later.”

Smasher, Crusher, Nasher and Thrasher, as well as Lisa, stood.  “Boss,” Lisa said, “we’re going to have to put a charm on you.”

“Why?” he asked, as they headed back toward the Durmstrang ship.

“So that we can find you if anything goes wrong.  I know you had a good time last night, but what if someone had found you?  It would be far easier if you could just press a button, and we can come running.”

Harry thought for a second.  “That’s a good idea,” he agreed.  “Get Hermione to work on it when she’s got the mind thingy done.”  He opened his door and walked into the room assigned to him.  He pulled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, as he removed his trousers.

“No,” Lisa squeaked.

“Whoops, sorry,” he apologised solemnly.  “I kinda forgot that you might be uncomfortable.”

“No problem,” she said, blushing furiously.

“I’ll not move for two hours,” he promised, shooing them out so that he could get into the shower.  Before he got in, he asked Dobby to clean Michael’s shirt.

The two hours later he felt a lot better and dressed casually, he wandered back to Hogwarts.  Gabrielle was sitting with her parents inside the classroom they’d adopted, chatting merrily.

He handed his wand to Gabrielle and the clean shirt to Michael.

Gabrielle moved to sit at her desk and looked at him expectantly.

“Shall we do a bit of recapping first?” he asked.

She nodded eagerly.

“Right, matchstick to needle.”

Gabrielle performed the transfiguration perfectly, and Harry smiled at her, as she went through a series of other spells he’d learnt in the first year.

“Right,” Harry said, “let’s see what you’ve learnt.  Cushion to porcupine.”  He walked next to her and lifted her into his lap, as he sat down.  “Now, let’s do the wand movements.”

He slowly took her through the swishes and flicks needed, before he made her practice on her own.  When she had it down perfectly, he taught her the incantation, and then they did the spell together.

The cushion seemed to sneeze as it grew quills, and started to scurry around the desk.  Gabrielle bounced happily, as Harry cancelled the spell.

“Right, do it on your own now,” Harry said as he stood, and placed her down on the seat.  “You don’t need me anymore.”

“Not for this,” she agreed, as she settled down and cast the spell on her own.  As before the, cushion became a porcupine.

“Make sure you write it all down.”

Gabrielle nodded and pulled out a quill and some parchment and started to write down everything she had done.

“Impressive,” Michael said slowly.

“She is,” Harry agreed fondly.

“I meant you.”

“Oh, I’m not impressive,” Harry demurred.  “She’s the one doing all the work.”

“Walk with me,” Michael said, “Marie will spend some time with Gabrielle.”

Harry nodded and followed him out of the classroom; they walked outside, and started around the Lake.

Michael smirked at him.  “Last night, you were supposed to go home, and mooch around all evening.”

“I was?” Harry asked in surprise.  “Why?”

“You’re also supposed to be susceptible to the Veela charm, and you’re certainly not supposed to knock out a Veela for using it.”

“Ahh,” Harry said.

“That’s why Fleur doesn’t like you.”

“How is it that Gabrielle is a sweetheart and you and Marie seem so nice, that Fleur is such a spoiled brat?”

“Ouch,” Michael said dryly, rubbing the back of his head.  “Gabrielle is a child Veela.  She is mildly empathic, and loves to touch people who love her.  When she touches you, she can feel that you love her, and that gives her more reassurance than I can ever explain to a non-empath.  I had my parents and my sister, she has that, and she has you.  You are the first male she has met that gives her complete adoration without asking for anything back.  And of course, Gabrielle utterly adores you for everything you have done for her.  In one of her letters before Christmas, she mentioned you forty-three times and Fleur twice.”

Harry smiled.

“Fleur was our first child, and well, we spoilt her, and she was used to getting her own way before she got her charm, and well, with her charm, and she is used to everyone falling at her feet.  We have tried to rein her in over the past few years, but have not been as successful as we liked.  We love and adore Fleur, and recognise our faults in the way she is, but we also accept that she can be a brat.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Harry agreed, “but I’m not going to change who I am.”

“No,” Michael agreed.  “Mind you, I am slightly concerned about what happens next year, and how Gabrielle will be when she doesn’t see and touch you every day.  That is a bridge we will cross when we get to it.”

“You’re not planning on trying to get her into Beauxbatons early?”

“Well, we have talked to Olympe,” Michael admitted.

Harry smirked.

“Gabrielle will still miss you, even if she does go to Beauxbatons.”

Harry continued to smirk.

“Harry?”

“Did you know that Beauxbatons has the largest library in Europe?”

“I’ve donated enough money to help build it,” Michael said dryly.  “What are you getting at?”

“Hermione and I are planning on transferring to Beauxbatons next year.  We’ve not told anyone else yet, but we’re not staying here.”

“On behalf of the Board of Governors, I welcome you both to our school,” Michael said, a large grin on his face.

Harry smiled at him, and they continued to walk in silence.  “Your control over your magic is remarkable,” Michael eventually said.

“As long as I am touching my wand, I can control it,” Harry agreed.  “I was talking to Hermione and Melissa about this, and we decided that what I was doing was teaching Gabrielle’s magic how to flow properly, and once she knows how to do it, she can do it herself.”

“I’m going to talk to some primary school teachers, and we’ll see if others can do it.  I’m also thinking of getting Gabrielle her wand early.”

“I wouldn’t,” Harry said.  “This way, she can only do magic with me, so there is no experimenting that might dent her confidence, or get her in trouble.”

Michael clapped him on the back.  “Wise words, my friend.  Now, enough about this, what happened last night?  Show some pity on this old married man, and let me live vicariously through you.”

Harry just laughed.

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