Diagon Alley was even busier than usual. There would normally be upwards of one-hundred witches and wizards roving the alley and shops at any given time. Now it looked as if there were more than a thousand.
The street were jam-packed with people bustling to and fro, pushing and shoving as they made their way into specific stores so they could get on with their holiday shopping. Mothers clutched their children's hands tightly so they would not get separated amidst the chaotic throng of human bodies. Fathers had their youngest children riding on their shoulders to keep them from being trampled by beings three to four times taller than they were. It was, in a word, mayhem. The entire alley was in frantic disarray as everyone tried to get their Christmas shopping done.
Harry casually wove his way through the throng of people, gliding through the mass of flesh and clothing that bunched around him like a parody of a blanket. The only good thing he could see from having so mane people crowded into a single area was that no one would notice through the mass of bodies.
Not that it mattered if they actually looked at him. He didn't really look like himself at the moment. With messy blond hair and high cheeks bones, Harry looked more like an aristocrat's son than himself. The only features he had been unable to mask was his messy hair style, emerald green eyes, and the scar on his forehead currently hidden underneath his hair. For some reason, his magic could not hide those features. He assumed it was because they were such an innate part of him that his magic simply refused to hide them.
Following the directions he had received from Tom, Harry made it to one of the many stores lining the alley. The store in question appeared to have been taken straight from the first century. A midieval building made of worn bricks with a thatched roof and a large chimney. There were no windows to this store, only an entrance that used a curtain to keep from revealing the interior instead of a door.
Harry pushed the curtain aside and entered. The first thing he noticed was how very cluttered the store was. Filled with tables and stands that contained all kinds of items he could only assume were magical in nature, the tiny shop contained very little room to move about in.
The shop itself was not very large, making Harry suspect the owner was not using any kind of magic to expand the store. Or maybe this was just the room where all of the items being sold were kept. He noticed that there was a doorway near the back behind a counter. Harry didn't know all that was involved in enchanting. Perhaps some forms of enchantment required powerful and complex rituals that required a lot of space, and the room in back took up most of the expansion charm? Or maybe he was just over thinking things, as was his wont.
“Ah, a guest, and one so young, too.”
From the doorway in the back came a woman so wrapped in clothing that the only thing Harry could distinguish were yellow eyes glowing like twin moons. She dressed in what appeared to be a combination of a witches robes and clothing from India. Her long, dark purple robes had more accoutrements than he had ever seen on a person and clung to her womanly frame yet revealed very little he could discern. A dark cowl wrapped around her entire head, covering all but her eyes and giving her a mystical appearance.
She walked forward with slow, measured steps, stopping in front of Harry and examining him.
“And what can Madam Amora do for you, young one?” she asked in a misty voice that Harry supposed was designed to add to her mystique.
“I was told that you were the best person to go to for people who wanted something enchanted,” Harry answered. “I was hoping to ask you about your price range for custom enchantments.”
“That would depend on what I am enchanting,” the woman replied in her airy voice. “Different items have different enchantments.”
“Jewelery mostly,” he told her, “though depending on what enchantments you can provide, I may also have you enchant some clothes as well.”
“Hmm...” The woman looked at him for a moment in silent contemplation. Her eyes looked like they were piercing his soul, and were more than a little disconcerting. He wondered if she had some kind of glamour charm over her eyes. Yellow was not a natural color. “I can enchant both jewelery and clothing. The price range on enchanting both vary depending on how well they are made and the materials used in their creation. Materials that can contain and project magic easier such as gold, silver, and acromantula silk and dragon hide take less time and energy to enchant, and are therefore cheaper. More mundane materials like platinum and cotton, however, are much more expensive because it requires more time and several extra rituals for the enchantments to hold.”
Harry nodded, pulled out a sheet of paper from his robes and handed it to the woman.
“I have hear a list of all the things I would like to have enchanted. I would like to know what kind of enchantments you can put on them, and how much each of those enchantments will cost.”
Madam Amora looked over the list, nodding and humming to herself.
“For clothing, I offer most of the basic enchantments; automatic repairing charms, stay-clean charms, growth charms, animation charms and color changing charms. Those all cost fifty galleons each. I also have a list of defensive enchantments. Fabric hardening wards, camouflage runes, and a basic shield charm that can block minor hexes, but will disintegrate if hit by something like a powerful cutting curse. Those cost two hundred galleons. There is an additional twenty-five galleon cost if something like wool or cotton is used, since they do not conduct magic very well.”
“Jewelery is a bit more complicated. For anything made of gold or silver, the standard fee is fifty galleons. If they have any precious gems such as diamonds, opals, emeralds, and amethysts an additional cost of twenty-five galleons is added. Anything made of platinum costs one-hundred galleons to enchant instead of fifty. The enchantments are also different. Most of my enchantments for jewelery center around basic animation charms, color changing charms, and pattern creation charms. Those cost twenty galleons each. Other enchantments I have are keep-polished charms, unbreakable charms, keep-away charms, which cost fifty-five galleons each.”
“What about defensive enchantments?”
“I only have one for jewelery,” Madam Amora admitted, “and it is quite pricy. It's a defensive ward that can detect when something hazardous to the health of the wearer, such as poison or love potions, is in their food or the atmosphere. That one costs two-hundred-and-fifty galleons, as it takes a good deal of time and effort to properly create the enchantment, engrave the runes and cast the wards.”
Harry nodded and began calculating how much each charm would cost.
“How many enchantments can you add to a single item? And is there an added cost for doing so? Or will it just cost the additional amount for each enchantment?”
“I can add as many charms as you would like, however, I can only add as much runes as the space on the item allows. For something like a ring, that means I can only add one runic scheme. Necklaces, depending on the size of the chain can have up to five, the same with bracelets. Clothes on the other hand can handle many more runes. I usually stitch them on the inside, though I can add them to the outside as well if you do not care about fashion or want them stitched into a design. There is no added cost beyond the cost of the enchantments themselves.”
After a moments thought, Harry decided what he to do.
“In that case I'll come back with the items I want enchanted, as well as a list of enchantments for each item. How do the payments work?”
“As there is always the margin for error when enchanting, I always receive half the payment before the enchantments, and the rest after they are complete.”
“Very well,” Harry said after a moments contemplation, “in that case, I just have one last question.”
Madam Amora raised a single, delicate eyebrow.
“And that is?”
“Would it be possible for me to stay and watch while you work on the enchantments?”
XoX
Harry and Lisa were sitting down on a large blanket that had been spread out on the grass of the park, a picnic basket in front of them. As promised the moment Harry returned he had taken his friend out to the park for a picnic—after hiding some of the presents he had gotten in his room and making some basic food for the two of them, of course.
“Isn't this romantic?” Lisa gushed as she and Harry ate the food he made for them, Tortini salad, chicken tortilla roll-ups, cold-cut sandwiches, and a side of fruits and vegetables.
“Not really.” Harry took a bite out of one of the roll-ups, chewed, and swallowed before speaking again. “We've done this so many times the novelty of any kind of romance has probably worn off by now.” Granted, he knew very little about romance beyond the books Lisa forced into his ears, but he doubted the romance in those trashy novels had any basis in reality.
“Ugh, you're such a killjoy sometimes, Harry,” Lisa complained, “can't you let me have my moment here? You could at least pretend we're having a romantic getaway or something,” she grumbled at the end.
Harry blinked.
“Why would I do that?”
Never mind the fact that he didn't have time for romance, and was not really interested in it, the thought of a romantic situation with his sister figure would just be awkward. He knew the girl just wanted to pretend she was in one of those novels she read so much, but this was one area he wasn't quite comfortable indulging her in.
Lisa huffed, then sighed in dejection.
“Never mind.”
Harry shifted again at the disheartened look his friend possessed. His mind was at war. Contrary to the often cool and collected persona he usually projected, or had been projecting until recently, Harry did not like to see his friend sad. It hurt in ways he really couldn't describe, and didn't want to contemplate.
On the other side of the coin toss, he really, really did not want to pretend he was having a romantic affair with his sister in all but blood. Harry may not know much about relationships, but if there was one thing Lisa's horrid books instilled in him, it was a sense of taboos. Incest seemed to be one of the more frequent ones her stories contained.
It honestly made him wonder why those books were not in the adult section of the library.
It also made him wonder if perhaps his best friend-slash-sister figure was one of those people with a serious brother-complex.
He really hoped that was not the case.
Before his thoughts on the stupidity of leaving books that lowered the morality of impressionable young girls in places said females could find them traveled any further, five people entered the park. Five very familiar and unwanted people.
“Well, well, well, look at who we have here. The freak and his little girlfriend.”
Standing before them were none other than Dudley, Peirs and three other members of their little gang: Dennis, Malcolm and Gordon. The one in front, of course, was Dudley, arms crossed and a smirk on his face while the four behind him tried to look intimidating.
They failed spectacularly.
“I hadn't realized you came back from the stupid school of yours? What was it called, Warthog?”
Peirs and the other three idiots broke into laughter. Harry sighed.
“Bugger off Big Dork!” Lisa glared at the group of idiots who had ruined her time with Harry.
“Shut up, you stupid bint,” Dudley sneered at the brunette, “I wasn't talking to you.”
Harry narrowed his eyes at the boy.
“You're being awfully bold today, Dudley,” he said in a low voice, “insulting my best friend like that. I've injured you for offenses that were far less momentous. I suggest you be careful about what you say from here on out.”
It had been a long time since Harry had threatened Dudley and his friends with violence. Two and a half years to be exact. The last time he had done so was when he caught Dudley and his friends picking on some new kid at school. By that point in time, the boys were already afraid of Harry, and after a few well placed threats and some basic intimidation tactics, they were running with their tails tucked between their legs.
While three of the five idiots suddenly looked uncertain and a tad frightened, probably remembering what happened the last time they crossed Harry, Dudley and Peirs only sneered at him.
“You don't scare me anymore, Potter,” Dudley growled as he cracked his knuckles. “I've joined Smelting's boxing team. Your little kung fu's not gonna be enough to save you now!”
“So you've begun practicing pugilism. Do you really think that will help you here?”
Dudley's face, and those of his friends, twisted into an expression of boorish confusion.
“What?”
“It means boxing, Dudley,” Harry told him in a mocking tone. “Honestly, you practice a sport your not even familiar with. You are quite stupid, you know that?”
Dudley's face morphed into an expression of trollish anger. It was the look of someone whose intelligence was less than nil and barely managed to realize they had just been insulted. Harry knew it was wrong, but he took dark amusement in seeing that expression.
“Are you making fun of me!?”
“Of course not, I merely stated the truth.” Harry stood up and opened his arms in a wide, encompassing gesture that looked almost compassionate ,were it not for the mocking smile on his face. “After all, Dudley, you really are an idiot.”
With a roar of anger, Dudley charged the raven-haired boy, intent on causing immense physical harm to him. There was no form in his charge, he had even foregone the basic boxing stance in favor of pulling his fist back to deliver a punch. The boy was wide open.
Harry did not attack at first. He simply stepped away so Lisa would not get caught up in the fight and accidentally injured. His eyes studied the other four while Dudley charged, making sure he was between them and his friend at all times.
Then Dudley was upon him. The pulled back fist was launched forward. It was slow. Too slow. Heavyweight boxing of the kind Dudley likely practiced was more a matter of strength than speed, which suited Dudley quite well, but made him ill-prepared to counter the speedy movements that Harry's martial arts was based on.
Harry tilted his torso to the left, allowing the fist to graze past his side, ruffling his shirt. His left hand came up and latched onto the offending forearm in a vice grip as Harry spun 180-degrees, bringing the arm that tried hitting him up and over his shoulder. His right foot slid backwards as he lowered his center of gravity. Then Harry yanked, using a combination of leverage, Dudley's momentum and weight against the boy to perform his move.
Dudley screamed in surprise as he was suddenly hauled off the ground as if he weighed less than a feather, flew up and over Harry, then hit the ground with a loud, harsh thud. There was a 'whoosh' of air as all the oxygen left the boys lungs. Tears sprang to Dudley's eyes as he curled around his stomach, gasping for breath on the grassy ground.
The sound of feet running across grass was heard behind him. Harry spun, rotating as he side stepped a fist launched by Malcolm. His hand shot forward and slapped his wrist, further moving the arm away from Harry and also leaving the other boy off balance. As Malcolm stumbled, Harry stepped forward, into his guard, and launched a double-palm strike to the large boy's stomach and chest.
Malcolm crumbled like a house of cards.
Dennis and Gordon looked like they were about to run, but a shout from Peirs had them charging forward regardless of their fear. Harry withheld a sneer. They really were stupid.
The two charged straight at him with no sense of subtlety or tactics, as if they could overwhelm him by presenting a two-on-one fight. They reached him at the same time, but Gordon, the quicker of the pair, tried to punch him first. Harry took a single step backwards, grabbed the boy's fist before he could retract it, then pulled him into the punch from Dennis that was meant for Harry. There was a loud thud as the fist impacted against the side of Gordon's head. The boy stumbled, disoriented from the hit to the temple, and Harry put him down quickly with a jump spin hook kick to the face.
A loud crack proceeded Gordon tumbling backwards, falling to the grass, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
Harry looked over at Dennis, who stood frozen in shock and fear. He offered the boy a smile so cold the other boy actually wet himself on the spot.
“Boo!”
With a squeal of fright not dissimilar to a pig about to be gutted, Dennis took off like the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels.
By this point in time, Dudley had recovered from having his lungs violently discharged of oxygen. With tears still stinging his eyes he charged at Harry.
The boy sent a very basic boxing combination at the more martial-oriented combatant. It was clear to Harry that Dudley, despite his boasts, was very new to boxing and had no real clue what he was doing. The one two combinations sent his way were easily deflected.
Using a technique of side stepping to move around an opponent, Harry took a single step to the left and curved around. At the same time, a single foot moved out of position, tripping up Dudley and causing him to stumble. The small baby whale of a boy was then knocked out when Harry kicked his legs out at the knees, forcing him to kneel on the ground, and struck him in the back of the head with a knife strike.
With three of the five boys out of the fight and one having run away, Harry turned to last person of the little gang.
And promptly glared.
Peirs, having apparently been smart enough to realize they were still no match for him, had moved towards Lisa while Harry was distracted and was now gripping her with one hand by the hair while the other was over her mouth to keep her from screaming. Tears leaked from the girl's eyes as Peris painfully yanked on her hair.
Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously. It was one thing to pick a fight with him; it was another matter entirely to take his best friend as a hostage. The boy just made this fight personal.
He took a step forward.
“Stay back!” Peris shrieked, a high pitch wail of fright. “Don't come any closer! I'll hurt her if you do!”
Harry stopped moving forward.
“Hurt her and I will break you.”
Peirs shuddered at the tone. It wasn't just because of how cold it was, but the promise it held. Harry rarely ever gave such blatant threats, preferring subtlety to outright threats. That he did so now meant Peirs had just stepped over the line.
“You can't do anything to me!” Peirs' voice cracked as he spoke. “You can't touch me! Not while I've got her!”
“Are you so sure of that, Polkiss?” Harry asked, his voice soft, threatening. Dangerous. “Are you so positive I need to be within reach of you to hurt you? Are you willing to test that theory?” His voice grew lower and lower until it was almost a whisper that somehow still managed to carry over to the terrified boy. “Are you willing to test me?”
Peirs had a moments hesitation. That hesitation cost him.
Surprisingly, it was not Harry who capitulated on the moment, though he had been about to do so. It was Lisa.
The cute brunette bit Peirs' hand, hard. The boy yowled in pain and let the girl go to grab his now bleeding appendage. That was his second mistake. With his attention focused on his wounded hand, he didn't even notice Lisa standing up and whirling on him with an angry glare. The girl, her anger and hurt fueling her strength, struck out with the single most powerful attack anyone could ever commit upon a male.
She struck him between the legs.
Lisa had some really powerful legs from her dancing lessons.
A high pitched squeal erupted from Peirs' mouth. His eyes went impossibly wide, hands moving to the most private and sensitive area on a male's body, clutching the now throbbing piece of flesh between his legs as he crumbled to the ground, where he proceeded to cry and curl up into a ball, as if doing so would help with him deal with the pain.
“If you ever touch me again, I will kick you much harder,” Lisa threatened the now crying boy who sounded not unlike a squealing rat as it was crushed by a boa constrictor. She turned back around, away from the pathetic sight, as Harry walked up to her.
“Are you alright?” her friend asked in concern.
“I'm fine.” Lisa rubbed her head where Peirs had grabbed her hair. She winced, a hiss of pain escaping her lips. A few more tears tried to escape, but she held them in admirably. “It only hurts a little bit.”
“Here...” Harry gently took her hand away from her head. “Let me see if I can help.”
There was no visible damage to her scalp that Harry could see. It was not like she was bleeding or anything, and Peirs did not have enough strength to actually rip her hair out. But he knew that yanking hair on a person's head did tend to sting the scalp.
He took her face in his hands and gently bent her head down so he could place a kiss on it.
The term 'kiss of healing' often refers to the kisses a mother gives their child when they get injured. It does not actually heal, not physically at least, but it does possess a psychological effect on the child, making them feel better even if the wound is not actually healed. Healing kisses also have their place in pop culture, often referring to magical kisses that truly do manage to heal wounds with the power of love.
Harry's kiss ran more along the lines of pop culture. Due to his control over his own magic, Harry was capable of healing himself at remarkable speeds. Some might even call it superhuman. In some instances, his magic actually worked to heal him despite not being directed by his will to do so. That had actually been the reason he healed from the troll incident so quickly. Having released the entirety of his magic in order to gain the strength needed to kill the troll, he had quite a bit left over, coursing through his system unchecked and with nowhere to go. That left over magic had gone to work on healing his body without him directing it.
Now Harry used his magic to heal another. It was more difficult than healing himself, as it was not simply a matter of channeling his magic to a wounded area and willing it to heal his body. Instead, Harry released a small trickle of his magic and directed it to his lips, then pushed it into Lisa with the intention of soothing her injured scalp. The reason he used a kiss was to avoid her asking the questions that were bound to come up if he used his hands and they suddenly started glowing.
He pulled back and looked at the now red-in-the-faced Lisa.
“Does it feel any better?”
“Ah...”
Lisa choked, her face glowing brighter and brighter until it looked like a small sun, causing Harry to frown. She swayed slightly and he wondered if perhaps she had taken more damage than he thought. Did yanking on hair really injure people that much? Or maybe he had simply used too much magic and her body, unused to having his energy coursing through her, couldn't take it in without becoming dizzy. Perhaps non-magical humans simply didn't handle magic very well.
“Yes,” The girl managed in a strangled tone.
“Lisa,” Harry looked concerned, “Are you really feeling better? You look a little faint.”
“I-I'm fine,” Lisa mumbled, suddenly finding a fascination with her feet. Harry's concern grew, but he quickly decided not to ask anymore questions. She probably just felt a little flushed because of the adrenaline leaving her body, he reasoned. It happened to people who were not used to having the flight-or-fight hormone pumping through their nervous system. The first time Harry had been pumped full of adrenaline had been his first ever spar with Master Wei, and he had been so exhausted afterward that he fell asleep right there in the dao.
“Why don't we head home so you can get some rest,” Harry began. Lisa looked like she wanted to protest, but he didn't let her. “This picnic is a bust anyways.” He sent an irascible glare toward the four downed boys that were only now beginning to stir.
With quick efficiency Harry had the blanket, food and utensils all packed and the two began walking back toward the Crawft's home. Lisa seemed to have gotten over her moment of adrenaline fueled faintness and now clung to his free arm. He was glad she had recovered from the ordeal so quickly. It showed her fortitude in the face of diversity.
As they continued walking, she sent him a mischievous smile.
“You can't deny that our picnic was no longer romantic.”
Harry blinked, then slowly turned his head to look at her, a single eyebrow raised.
“And how do you figure that?”
“Because you beat up the bad guys,” Lisa stated, nodding her head with certainty. “Everyone knows that in every fairy tale romance, the hero always beats up the bad guys and then afterword, he and the Princess live happily ever after.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same.
XoX
Late that night Harry sat on his bed reading Guide to Advanced Occlumency. Harry already knew the basics of the art, clearing his mind, sensing intrusion and expelling it, but he wanted to refine his technique. At the moment his ability to expel intrusion was to smash his magic against the intruding present. It was brute force at its finest. He knew there may come a point in time where simple brute force would not do the trick, and he preferred using finesse in everything he did anyway.
There were a number of fascinating means of both defense and offense when it came to defending the mind. Anything from trapping an opponent inside your own mind, reversing the legillemency and driving yourself into their mind, to even utterly destroying the sanity of those who tried to enter your mind and leaving them as nothing more than a non-responsive vegetable. The number of ways to keep your mind from being invaded and damage your opponents mind when they tried invading it were quite literally infinite. It seemed that the only limitation was the Occlumense power, will and imagination, which were key factors for 'mental dueling' as Harry called it.
Harry already had a number of ideas on how to keep people out of his mind, and how to utterly crush them if they tried invading it. Now, if only he had someone to practice on...
Harry let go of his thoughts and looked out the window when he felt his partner's touch on his mind, like the soft caress of feathers against his cheek. A second later, Hedwig drifted in through the open window and flew over to him. She landed on his crossed knee, her claws only lightly touching him so they did not wound him.
“Hedwig,” Harry sighed in exasperation as he saw the blood on his feathered friend's beak and claws. “Must you attack every carrier owl that comes to deliver something to me?”
Hedwig said nothing, no hoot, no indignant bark, nothing. She merely stared at him with those intelligent, amber-colored eyes.
“It's not their fault their owners sent them, you know.”
Her chest feathers ruffled as she puffed herself up indignantly. Still, she did not 'talk.'
“How could they possibly know better?” Harry asked rhetorically, “It's not like any of the owls that come to find me are intimately familiar with me. They couldn't possibly know that you don't approve of others encroaching on your territory.”
Hedwig finally released an annoyed trill.
“Yes, well, you should know that violence is never the answer.”
Another trill. Harry blushed.
“That was different,” he defended himself, “they insulted Lisa, and they tried to attack us. I was simply defending myself. What are you defending?”
She trilled again, her eyes set in a blank look.
“Your right as my partner,” Harry tested the words, then shook his head. “And you couldn't have resolved this through dialogue?”
Hedwig gave him a deadpanned stare and he sighed.
“Right, well, what did you fight over this time?”
The snowy bird held out her left leg. Attached to the leg was a very official looking envelope with the Ministry seal.
Taking the letter, Harry waved his free hand and several pieces of bacon flew over to them and floated in the air for Hedwig to eat. And while his faithful friend munched on her food, Harry broke the seal and opened the envelope so he could read the letter contained within.
Dear Harry James Potter,
To the Heir Apparent of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter. You have been cordially invited to attend the Ministry's 388th New Years Ball that will be happening on December 31st 1991 to celebrate the new year. Please note that dress robes are required.
Hope to see you there.
The Minister of Magic.
Cornelius Fudge.
Harry set the letter down, pondering this new development. This would be a good opportunity for him to scope out the current political power houses, as well as see where he stood amongst those who had been in politics for longer than he had been alive. A test to see how well he could keep up with those older and more experienced. However, there were a few things he would need to do first.
“Well, Hedwig,” Harry said to the snowy bird still perched on his knee, “tt looks like I'm going to need a little more help from Andromeda if I want to prepare for this.”
Hedwig just gave him look that said 'must you interrupt me with your monologue while I'm eating,' and then she went back to eating the still floating treats.
She wasn't much of a conversationalist when she was hungry.