Harry's Summer Vacation

Church of Perpetual Violence
Roanapur, Thailand
12:19 P.M.

"Eh, I'm tired of arguing over what gun Jesus would haul around," Revy admitted towards the old argument.  "I'm in too damn good of a mood to bitch about shit with you."

"Oh?" the gorgeous blonde nun asked, fanning herself with her feet kicked up on the side the altar, even as Revy slouched over the other side in her own chair.  The altar itself held an ashtray, two empty bottles of rum, and a half-full bottle of gin.  "I heard that the Lagoon was docked because of the exercises."

"You heard wrong, Eda," Revy replied, lifting up her head to sluice the sweat off of her brow with a thumb.  "Had a job through Green Tooth Johnny.  Some chucklefucks are trying to hook up the Manasilera cartel.  We got hired to snatch the goods before it could make port."

"I hadn't heard that," Eda replied, sipping her tumbler of gin.  "I did hear that you guys apparently adopted a kid.  So, you and Rock finally getting serious?" she smirked.

Revy rolled her eyes at that.  "Fuck no.  Kid's a client.  As soon as the exercises are over, we're running him to Hong Kong."

"Uh-huh," Eda replied, the smirk still playing at her lips.  "And so you guys are babysitting, huh?  Hell of a thing for an elite courier service."

"Fuck, you just don't fucking quit, do you?" Revy snarled out weakly.  "Fine.  He's a shipwreck vic that lost his dad or some shit, and now he can't fly out.  Can't hit the damn embassy because of the religious bullshit.  Good thing he's loaded, or else he'd probably be a resident by now."

"Interesting," Eda admitted.

Revy drained her own tumbler, and as she refilled it, she swayed a little, saying, "He's been meeting a lot with Benny about some phone shit.  Internet crap too.  Shit, we were right there in the office as he fucking bought a damn sat-phone company!  And his damn banker..."  Revy stopped, shaking her head a little.  "Weird little fucker.  Aggressive.  But Harry trusts him, so good for him, I guess."

Eda raised an eyebrow in interest.  "Some kid buys a telecom, and you just watched it?"

"Yeah, some place named after a metal.  Irid-something.  Hand held sat-phones, can you believe that shit?  Benny was about pissing himself to be in on it.  And Harry has him working out how to combine that little pocket computer he carts around with the phone.  Whole lotta geek shit going down at the office."

"So, the kid got a name?"

Revy, being more than slightly drunk, missed the pointed nature of Eda's question.  "Harry Potter.  British, nice guy.  Polite.  Yolanda would love him."

"Well, Sister Yolanda does appreciate polite people.  'Courtesy costs nothing', and all that."

"Shit, that reminds me.  Can you guys get ahold of 8mm Nambu rounds?"

Eda looked at Revy in confusion as she processed the request.  " Damn.  That's a weird one.  Have those even been made since WW2?"

"Fuck if I know.  I do know that Harry's got an old Type 100 in collector's condition.  He's gonna need ammunition for it at some point."

Eda considered that for a second, before saying, "We might be able to get him some brass.  Probably nothing loaded; that stuff would be too dangerous to fire.  But if he can get someone to load them for him, maybe.

"I'll ask Yolanda later.  So, Japan.  You two went.  Did you and Rock get it on?"

Revy groaned at the question, slumping back over.  "It was freezing fucking cold, Balalaika almost killed me, and I damn near got my legs sliced into deli meat.  I never want to go back there again."

Eda waved away he objections.  "I've heard all that before, shithead.  Tell me something new!"

"If I knew your AC was busted," Revy admitted, "I'd have stayed at the damn office.  Or gone to the Maploa market with Rock."

Suddenly, the was a loud banging on the front door of the church, with a feminine voice shouting, "Hello?!  Hello?!  Help!  I'm being chased!"

"I think there's someone at the door for you," Revy mentioned unnecessarily, pointing to the object in question.
-----
Harry grabbed himself some lunch on the way back to his apartment, considering the now shrunken down trunk in his pocket.  There were an awful lot of enchanted items in there, and the only one that was identifiable was probably illegal in nearly every nation on Earth.

Sighing as he let himself into the air conditioned apartment (which was about the size of Dudley's room in total) and sat down on the bed.

"A question of curiosity, young master,' Salim's voice came wafting across his mind.  'Why not simply live out of your bag?  It's sufficiently protected from nearly everything.'

"I never meant it to be a residence," Harry admitted aloud.  "It was supposed to be an emergency house if all my properties were wrecks.  Also an emergency bolt hole.  I guess it never really sank in that I could actually live out of it."

'Then why over-design it like you did?' Salim asked.

Harry sighed, opening the container of fried rice.  "You weren't there when we put it all together.  Hedwig and I have very different tastes in interior decoration.  And she's my girl first; I had to make sure she liked it too."

'I just now saw the interchange between you and your owl.  That was hilarious,' Salim admitted.

"Besides," Harry continued, pouring himself some tea, "I shouldn't get used to living out of my bag.  If I start doing that, I might not want to go out too much, you know?"

'You are a fairly closed-off person.  However, given your experiences over the past couple of months I would sorely doubt that you would be content to merely hide away in your backpack.'

"Maybe," Harry reluctantly admitted.  "At any rate, do you have any idea on how we might be able to test those enchanted items that Johnny paid me?"

'A few,' Salim admitted.  'Our line was at least somewhat knowledgeable on enchanting, even if we didn't specialize.  Himiko's knowledge of enchanting far outstrips our own.  You would have to voluntarily delve into those memories for the skills involved.'

"And I've been avoiding that," Harry groaned out.

'As well as other things.  Such as the two of us attempting to dive deeply into what was left of Riddle.'

"Yeah, been ducking that too," Harry admitted, sipping at his tea.

'And then there are other, more material responsibilities.  The man Morgan, for example.  And the woman Jurgens.  Both mentioned by Slipshard.'

"Okay, I haven't been avoiding them," Harry said, clearing up his trash.  "They are supposed to contact me.  After all, they hadn't been properly hired yet, right?"

'Mm.  A point, I suppose.  There is one other concern, young master.'

Harry frowned at the odd tone in Salim's mental voice.  "Oh?" he asked warily.

'You work very hard at your business endeavours', Salim began in a lecturing tone, 'but you have very little fun.  You go out and experiment with different cuisines, which is commendable given your upbringing,' Salim added.  'But you have no hobbies, no interests outside of study and work.  You go to the healer's for your education, to the Lagoon company to work with Benny, but little else.'

"You... might have a point there," Harry hesitantly admitted, noting that he was admitting a lot today.

'I realize that, between the broken broom and the non-magicals, you can't fly as you are normally wont to do,' Salim commented.  'But there seems to be little else for you to desire to fill your time with.  And from what I've managed to glean, little at Hogwarts apart from chess and the exploding card game.  The occasional periodical, perhaps, but little else.'

"I get it, Salim," Harry replied, a little heat in his voice.  "I'm boring, I get it."

'Not at all, young master.  You are merely young and have had little cause to branch out in entirely novel directions.'

"Okay, I think I see your point on that.  Suggestions?"

Salim laughed at that.  "You're in a hedonist's paradise!  Nearly anything can be gotten for a price here, yes?  So take up a hobby.  Get drunk in a safe place.  Pay a prostitute for a couple of hours of her time.  Something, anything that is more about you having a good time and less about business and learning.'

Harry blinked at that.  He was aware that Salim had a fairly earthy, 'early period' perspective on life, and yet was quite appreciative of the modern method of dress (he especially seemed to have a thing for Revy as a 'flawless representation of the modern warrior woman.  With an exceedingly fine ass').  He was also aware that Salim wasn't particularly happy that Harry didn't at least have a concubine, didn't have an heir (being the last of now three bloodlines and a line by conquest), and barely had any control over his life.  At fourteen!

"I think I understand," Harry replied.  "Get out, have some fun, live a bit, right?"

'In essence.  However, I have a more pressing concern.  I fear that you will 'burn yourself out' as the modern parlance goes.  Either that, or by the time you get everything together and functioning, you won't know how to have any fun.'

"Makes sense," Harry murmured.  "Although I really don't know about the hooker thing.  There are too many diseases out there."

'True.  But I believe my point is well made.  While you consider what you may do to distract yourself. I recommend that we delve into your resources.  The memories of Himiko and Riddle are not to be discounted.'

"Right.  Meditation and analysis," Harry sighed, throwing away his now empty container of food.  "Might as well get into it.  For now, let's focus on the enchanting bits.  I think we might be able to use that knowledge to figure out some of the stuff that Johnny paid us."  Harry curled up onto the bed, closed his eyes, and dove into his mindscape.
--------
Several hours later, Harry's eyes snapped open.  Blinking rapidly, he looked around, trying to identify where he was.  Slowly, he realized that he was still in the apartment, lit only by streetlights peeking in from the balcony.

"That... took a lot out of me," Harry groaned as he stretched out the stiffness of his back.

'Too much time spent within the mind can be that way for the unaccustomed,' Salim chuckled.  'In time, you'll be able to dip in and out as you require.  For now, however, take a few days to reacquaint your mind to the real world.'

"Right.  Time is... almost midnight?  Damn.  I need to eat.  What's local..."

'I remember overhearing Dutch saying that the bartender at the Yellow Flag claimed that there was a new American place opening a few blocks from the Lagoon dock.  Apparently they mostly serve the dock workers,'

"Ooo.  Burgers and chips.  That I can get up for."

Fifteen minutes later saw Harry walking down the quiet street.  He'd discovered that this residential section of Roanapur was a lot quieter at night than the business sections.  Only a few bars here and there, mostly for the dock and office workers.  No strip clubs, bordellos, or theaters.  Idly, Harry wondered to himself if he should invest in a cinema house or two.  And then he wondered if he'd just end up helping to open up porn movie theaters, much like his grandfather had.

Snapping out of his idle musing, he heard the sounds of massed gunfire coming from the shoreline.  Looking around and seeing nobody, he cast the disillusionment charm on himself, drew his sword, and began moving fast through alleyways.

A few minutes (and not a small amount of panting), Harry's eye grew wide at seeing the Lagoon Company dock building ablaze.  An explosion from the high octane fuel tore out the covered dock, and Harry could just make out four forms sliding down the collapsing roof.

Ignoring his burning legs, Harry rushed forward, getting to the building in time to see the Black Lagoon itself swing around, his eyes making out Revy, Rock, two blonde women, and two men jumping aboard.  And just as swiftly, the boat swung around, heading back out to sea at full throttle.

Blinking at the speed at which everything had happened, Harry looked around.  There were probably a dozen corpses scattered about the sides of the burning, collapsing building.  And then he caught the sound of a groan.

Approaching slowly, he caught a very calm male voice saying, "...should wear a vest next time.  They're pretty handy at times like this."

A heavily accented (Harry was thinking Chinese) female voice painfully responded with, "My weapon is my armor.  Wearing bulky thing only get me killed.  From look of thing, be no next time."

Harry approached to see a young man with silvery hair wearing a long coat reaching out to a young woman in a red dress, blood slowly pooling around her as the man said, "I'll take you to a doctor.  Give me your hand."

Silently cringing to himself at the internal reminder of his promise as an apprentice healer, Harry covered his mouth slightly to redirect his voice.  "If you agree not to attack, I can help."

Almost instantly, the man's hands were full of pistols, and the woman had managed to almost materialize three throwing knives.  "Who there?" the woman demanded.

"The medic," Harry replied, having shifted his hand to redirect his voice to a new point.

The man's pistols lowered ass he sighed.  "Yes, please.  I have no objections.  Stabilizing Miss Shenhua would be a priority."

Harry stepped out of sight before dropping the disillusionment.  Stepping out into the firelight, he advanced as he sheathed his sword.  His wand swept the area, casting detection and analysis spells.  "Six bullets, two in torso and four in the legs," Harry muttered.  "You are uninjured," he said to the man, "and there is another survivor over there," he continued, gesturing further down the narrow alley.

Kneeling next to the woman, he said, "Tell me what happened while I work."

"Ha.  We get cheap offer from syndicate idiot," Shenhua stated, her eyes never leaving Harry's wand as it began vanishing bullets.  "A grand each, find girl, bring her in alive.  We bored, not have better thing in hand.  We find out Lagoon and Ripoff have her back, price jump to thirty grand each.  Retard thought he dealing with gangbangers in Miami until I tell him right."

"Okay," Harry replied, only half listening.  "Drink this."

Shenhua slammed back the potion, shuddering slightly.  Then she looked at the vial, eyes wide.  "That blood grow potion.  You healer?  Awful young."

"Apprentice," Harry commented, slowly weaving his wand across her torso to guide the muscle knitting spell; when she fell, she hit a couple of broken off pieces of rebar.  "No internal organ damage, but there is some bruising.  Take a few days off to let that work itself out."

"I thank you.  Anyways," Shenhua continued, slowly sitting up, "we think us lucky that Lagoon out.  Means no big weapons, and Dutch scary as hell when angry.  So we surround, break in, and Weaver set docks on fire.  Fucking idiot."

"Weaver?"

"Claude 'The Torch' Weaver," the man stated, carrying a girl in his arms.  "A religious man who's preferred weapon was a flamethrower.  I am uncertain why such a man would be a good idea on a capture hunt, but I wasn't the one making the calls."

"I Shenhua," she began, "this Lotton, that Sawyer.  He wizard, she cleaner."

"Harry Potter.  Wizard and apprentice healer."

"So I see," Lotton stated, gently setting Sawyer down.  "Interesting."

"I agree," Shenhua smirked out, nodding.  "I grand-daughter of Wūshī, what you call wizard, but not magic by self.  Lotton, you not use magic?"

"I believe that I am under a similar situation," he replied coolly.  "My family is under a curse to prevent us from using our sorceries."

"What's wrong with Miss Sawyer?" Harry asked, having recast his diagnostic spells over the trembling girl tucked into a fetal position.

"She dropped her ultravoice," Lotton stated.  "It could be anywhere in the debris.  Without it, I fear that she is mentally retracting herself from the world."

Harry sighed, before pointing his wand and chanting, "Accio Ultravoice."  Instantly, a short rod flew from further down the lane to slap into Harry's palm.  He looked it over before kneeling next to Sawyer, managing to tuck it into her tightly clenched fist.  Sawyer's trembling stopped, tears still dripping from her face onto the pavement below her.

Harry stood up sharply, shaking his head at Salim's lecherous chuckling in the back of his head.  He had found Sawyer to be quite cute, and Salim's chuckling was unfair (or so Harry felt).

"So, are things going to get weird?" Harry asked.  "I mean, you did just attack my friends, and then I patched you up."

"No," Lotton stated crisply.  "This was just a hunt.  There will be few complications coming from this, except for those who hired us.  They will be the targets of wrath, not we.  It's the way of this city."

"Got it.  Ah, shit," he continued, turning to look at the now smoldering rubble.  "You two know about magic.  Would you please not tell anyone I'm trying something experimental?"  The two nodded.

Setting his feet, Harry called upon his mental map of the Lagoon Company's dock office.  The bits he'd gotten from Tom Riddle and Himiko had really boosted his powers of recall as he pictured the tiles, the racks, desks, paperwork.  Then his mind's eye moved to the covered dock.  How the roof was supported, the locations of the fuel tanks, the tool boxes.

"Reparo.  Unburn," Harry chanted, pushing the mental image through the established spell and the new, made up spell, relying on his focus and intent to fill in the gap of a lack of proper incantation.

He tuned out the paired gasps behind him, focusing exclusively on his task as the smoldering stopped, the wood of the dock reforming as smoke streamed downwards.  The concrete walls began reassembling themselves, and Harry could feel the office reforming.

Finally, five minutes later, Harry dropped to his knees, panting as if he'd sprinted a full mile.  His forearm burned from the exertion, and his wand was actually hot to the touch.

"Are you alright?" Lotton asked cautiously.

"Think so," Harry gasped out.  "I don't think I ever used that much before.  Ohh, I'll feel that tomorrow."

Shenhua grabbed his shoulders, pulling him back to lean against a clean section of wall.  "You do good work," she softly said.  "Not hear of such things since mother's tales of Imperial China Wūshī.  They rumor be able to rebuild entire cities after invasions.  You this young, do this much, you be powerful and skilled later."

"Thanks.  Okay, I got my breath back," Harry said as he pulled out his phone.  Dialing, it picked up on the eighth ring.

"Black Lagoon, Rock speaking."

"Rock, it's Harry.  You guys okay?"

"Yeah, sorta," Rock admitted.  "Eda dealt with the cowboy, and Revy got the pyro.  We're taking the customer out now."

"Good to hear.  Nobody's hurt?"

"Revy's got some knife wounds.  Flesh wounds, nothing serious.  We both have bruises from the fall, minor burns.  The first aid kit is good for what we got."

"Thank goodness," Harry breathed out.  "When I saw the docks on fire, I thought you guys were dead.  What about Dutch and Benny?"

"Dutch is pissed about the office," Rock admitted.  "Benny is... fine.  Occupied with the customer, but fine."

"I... You know, I don't want to know what 'occupied' means.  Is Dutch available?"

"Sure.  Here."

"Hey Harry," Dutch's calm voice came over the phone.  "You didn't get caught up in any of that, did you?"

"Nope.  Helped out some of the survivors.  They said there wouldn't be any trouble, something about 'Roanapur's Way'?"

"Heh.  Yeah, it's the customer that takes responsibility for a hunt, not the operator.  This won't be a problem."

"Good to hear.  One last thing, Dutch.  I used magic to rebuild the dock office.  I don't know how well everything is fixed up, but at least the structure is sound.  Not sure about the paperwork and such."

"Well shit, Harry," Dutch's pleased voice came through.  "Knowing you just keeps getting better every day.  As soon as I can, I'll pull in a favor with Mister Chang to get it inspected and reconnected to utilities.  I really appreciate your work."

"Never a problem, Dutch.  Later."

Harry hung up, pocketing the phone.  "So, what now for you three?"

Sawyer had managed to unclench.  Sitting up cross-legged, she held her ultravoice to her throat.  Her 'voice' buzzed out, "We could go... to my place to... recover.  I have space... for all of us."

Shenhua and Sawyer looked at each other, then shrugged.  "Sound good to me," Shenhua answered for the both of them.  "What about you, healer?  You want come with?"

"I suppose," Harry replied, slowly standing up.  "I'll need to get something to eat first; I haven't eaten since noon."

"One thing," Sawyer buzzed out.  "My legs are... bruised.  I will... require assistance."

"I can drive Miller's car," Lotton stated as he walked over to a corpse, looting the pockets.

"Would you mind if I carried you, miss?" Harry asked, a trace of nervousness in his voice.  Sawyer lifted her arms, allowing Harry to pick her up bridal fashion.

As Harry followed Lotton to the car, only Shenhua, bringing up the rear, saw the little smirk on Sawyer's face.