Chapter 11
3 September, 1994
Roanapur
10:27 A.M.
Harry's Apartment
Harry's phone was what slammed him out his mind dive trance. Lunging up, he blinked before answering the phone. "Whuh?"
"Harry!" came Revy's voice, almost drowned out by gunfire in the background. "I need your help. Fuckers ambushed us two blocks south of Maploa Market!"
Harry pictured the spot in his head, saying, "I'm on my way."
Standing, he automatically strapped on his pistol, holstered his holly wand, and slid on the backpack. Remembering bits and pieces from Tom's memories, Harry vanished from the room in a thunderous crack.
A second crack lit up the roofline almost a mile away as Harry appeared on a roof top that he and Zara had had a quiet moonlight picnic on the night before. Stepping up to the ledge, he saw Revy on her hands and knees, along with a burly man with a scar on his face and a blonde woman with stripes of scars. A dozen men were in the process of reloading, and there were groans of the seriously injured wafting up to where Harry could hear them.
Snarling silently, Harry snapped the sword into it's sheath on his back, pulled out the automatic rifle that Lara had built on Yamatai, and loosened the pistol on his thigh. Stepping back a bit more, he slipped the safety off of the rifle, cast a small spell on himself, and leaped off of the roof.
As he'd planned, his hand grabbed onto the streetlight and, spinning downwards as if he was a stripper (Urara had given him an entertaining but small demonstration), the thugs below were not prepared for automatic rifle fire from above them. As Harry twirled, his rifle fired with deadly accuracy at the men, most of the rounds hitting center of mass. They scattered for cover, allowing Harry to cancel the weak sticking charm on his hand and finally hit the pavement. Throwing his pistol, he shouted, "Revy! Twelve plus one!" He then ducked behind a car, reloaded the rifle, and slid it to the burly man with the scarred face, shouting, "Fifty!"
Snapping out his wand, emerald eyes flaring with eldritch green flames jetting out the sides, Harry began casting like it was Yamatai all over again. Holes appeared in cars, going entirely through them to hit targets. Summoning charms slammed men into walls, cars, and a mailbox. Working fast (and silently) he kicked a car at three men, crushing them against a building.
The last two men were running, so Harry summoned them back to him by their shoes, before dropping them with stunning charms.
"Thanks for coming," Revy panted out with a grin, handing him back his pistol. "Fuckers got the drop on us when I was meeting with the Russians. We'd be dead now if it wasn't for you."
Harry got his breathing (and temper) under control, simply saying, "My sister called."
The burly man strode up, handed Harry the rifle, saying, "Hotel Moscow is in your debt, sir. We thank you."
"You're welcome. Harry Potter," Harry replied, thrusting out the hand not occupied with the rifle.
"Sergeant Boris. That is Balalaika," he replied, shaking Harry's hand as he gestured to the blonde woman.
"Great. Who's wounded?" Harry asked, already pulling a kit out of his bag.
An hour later, Harry had left, Hotel Moscow's wounded were well on their way to being healthy, and Balalaika told Revy, "I expect an explanation for this, Two Hands."
Revy sighed, working at her left shoulder; it'd been stiff ever since one of the fuckers landed a cheap shot with a bat. Harry had fixed her almost ruined shoulder, but it was still stiff. "Tell me sis, do you believe in magic?"
Balalaika blinked, then smiled a little. "Ah. Yes, that would explain it. I've seen a few hedge wizard in small communities in the Middle East. I take it that Potter is one of them?"
"Yeah," Revy answered, running her fingers through her hair. "Honest to fucking God, real life, no shit wizard. Goes to school for it and shit. Has a goblin banker, magic wand, and makes potions."
"Interesting. Is he staying in Roanapur?" Balalaika purred out.
"Fuck no!" Revy exclaimed. "He's not one of us, Sis. He's just here until we can get him to Hong Kong. That's it," she practically spat out.
"Now, now, Two Hands," Balalaika gentled out as she lit a cigar. "There's no need to be that way. So he's a temporary resident. Would he be willing to do a little work on the side?"
Revy just sighed at the insinuation. "Sis, he's fourteen. Dunno what you'd want from him."
Balalaika's eyebrows shot up at the admission. "Fourteen? And he fights like that? That's potential that should be encouraged."
"Look, Sis, Harry's basically family for me, okay? We sorta adopted each other. So we're looking out for each other. Please don't test me on this."
"Alright, fine. We can discuss this later."
4 September, 1994
Roanapur
U.G.Pork Industries
8:11 P.M.
"Tell me you're serious, Harry."
"I am absolutely serious, Lotton. I figured out the ritual that Voldemort used on your dad, and I know how to undo it."
Lotton sat heavily in the overstuffed chair in Sawyer's apartment. Rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses, he said, "I don't... I can't believe it. After all this time... How did you do it, Harry?"
Knowing that they were alone, Harry said, "I need this kept an absolute secret, okay? Nobody can know about this."
"You have my word that not a single soul will hear this from me, Harry."
"My mum sacrificed herself to save me from Voldemort," Harry began. "That protection rebounded the Killing Curse into Voldemort's face; it's how I got my famous scar. But somehow during all that, a small piece of Voldemort's soul got lodged in my scar. Years later, when I was on Yamatai, that piece got absorbed by my own soul. It's taken me some time, and a ton of mindscape research, but that's how I know. It's how I'm able to pick up spells from Healer Gurrimurra so fast, how I can whip up potions like they're nothing. I have big chunks of Voldemort's knowledge. It's incomplete, but I've managed to separate the stuff that's too broken to be useful from the good shit."
"My God, Harry. No wonder you don't want this getting out!" Lotton exclaimed. "They'd vilify you in Britain!"
"Exactly. So yeah, I know how to reverse the ritual."
"I've spoken with my father about the possibility. If you can pull this off, he will teach you his advanced combat transfiguration methods. Hell, he'll teach you everything he knows. And as an additional offer, I'd like to train you as well. Someone in Hong Kong pulled a favor, and I'm being paid to train someone in parkour. I'm more than willing to include you on this."
"That sounds good, Lotton. It works for everyone. How do we go about this, then?"
"I'll call him, arrange a meeting here. Do whatever preparations you require. He will be here, I promise. In the meantime, meet me in front of your apartment tomorrow morning. My new apprentice will be with me, and I'll run you two through the basics."
The rest of the evening was spent talking and getting caught up.
5 September, 1994
Roanapur
Harry stepped out of the apartment building to see Lotton leaning against an older Range Rover. Harry nodded to Lotton, and they drove to a neighborhood that Zara had warned him against going into at night. There, sitting on a crumbling wall, was a young Japanese man wearing a red headband. The two got out, and Lotton made introductions.
"Harry Potter, this is Yakumo Fuji. Yakumo is here because I owed a favor to someone who owed his sponsor a favor. Yakumo, Harry is here because of a debt that I owe him." Harry and Yakumo shook hands, and then Lotton continued with, "Parkour is a motion art that involves getting from Point A to Point B in the most direct way possible. It incorporates the skills of running, climbing, swinging, vaulting, jumping, plyometrics, rolling, and quadrupedal movement to traverse the local terrain in whatever manner is feasible. Harry I know you've been running and know wall climbing with axes. Yakumo, you've trained a bit in martial arts, gymnastics, rolling and falling. Today I begin to teach the two of you how to do better."
Four hours later, Harry and Yakumo were back where they started, laying on the ground trying to stop panting. Lotton looked like he was ready to keep going.
"Can you believe he did that in body armor?" Harry gasped out.
"Fuuck. I didn't know it was possible to be this out of it and still be alive," Yakumo whined out.
"Alright you two," Lotton said, helping them both up with a smirk. "We'll meet again in two days, so let yourselves rest. I'll drive you back. Harry? My father said he'll be here the morning of the ninth."
An hour later (and a stop by the embassy), and Harry was sitting back in his apartment going through his mail. A letter from the ICW, stating that they were processing his application for Yamatai, and to expect to have to be present sometime in December. A letter from Slipshard breaking down his investments, as well as the condition of various owed royalties. A letter from Bill Weasley saying that Charlie had agreed to take a look at whatever InGen was cooking up, and that he and Lara had gotten together and were officially dating. As well as a warning about Samantha; the details were lacking, but Harry was warned that he'd racked up a rather intense life debt with her, and she was getting a little obsessed with Harry.
Finally, two letters, one from Hermione and one from Ron.
Dear Harry,
I can't believe that you couldn't make it to the Quidditch World Cup. Ron was really looking forward to you being there with him. Well, in between him experimenting with the Warhammer box you sent him. Did you know that he's been looking at animation spells and potions to make them move like Wizard's Chess pieces?
The World Cup itself was amazing. All the stalls, the languages, everything was like a massive funfair. The game itself was... okay, I suppose. Honestly, I only go to Quidditch because you are playing. Afterwards was less fun.
It seems that a bunch of wizards decided to break out the old Death Eater stuff and have a bit of 'fun'. All we could really do was run, although I did use the idea you sent me about casting the nonstick charm on the ground behind me. I'm not sure if it halped, but it couldn't have hurt, right?
And then someone cast the Dark Mark in the sky. The Death Eaters scattered, the Ministry people apparated in, and then they started firing! Can you believe the foolhardiness? It'd be like a constable shooting into a crowd! And then the silly buggers started shouting accusations! AT ME! Thankfully, Mr. Weasley was there to talk people down.
Anyways, the next day Bill and Charlie escorted me to Gringotts. Mrs. Weasley was not happy about that, but she really couldn't do anything about me having an appointment. The goblin Slipshard tells me that you cooked up an inheritance test, and that I was the very first to try it out once it was complete! Thank you, Harry!
And I say that sincerely, because that's you being you. Always thinking about your friends. Certainly not because, as it turns out, I am the sole heiress to fifty-three minor European houses, as well as the Dagworth-Granger title in Britain. Can you imagine the look on Malfoy's smug face when he learns that?
Mind you, there isn't a lot of money attached to it all. And I have to travel a bit next summer to go to four different countries to activate everything. A few homes, maybe 10,000 Galleons in cash, and BOOKS! Ohhh, the Dagworth-Granger vaults was PACKED with them! As well as crates of potions ingredients in stasis! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!
Also, I think you might be in a little trouble with Mrs. Weasley. It seems that your friend Lara got really friendly with Ginny. They started talking about field archaeology, rock climbing, and archery. I think Ginny might have a prospective career after Hogwarts that doesn't include the Holyhead Harpies. And then Lara loaned her a few books, foundational thing, and Ginny really tore into them! I don't think I've seen her devour information like that before! It was honestly amazing, and a little terrifying. Wait, is that how I get when I'm in the library?
Well, I have to wrap this up. The Express is pulling into Hogsmeade now. Please be safe, and write soon. Also, Hedwig is doing great. My parents ADORE her. It'll be hard to give her back, if I'm honest. She and Crookshanks get along gorgeously, and she's just a really comforting presence.
Write soon. I really want to hear all the details of what you've been up to.
Love,
Hermione
Harry chuckled at the *distinctly Hermione letter before opening Ron's.
Hey Mate!
Wish you could have come to the Quidditch World Cup. Dad got tickets through the Ministry. We were in the Minister's box!
For the record, Ireland won, but Krum on the Bulgarian team caught the snitch. Ireland's chasers were just too on-game, and Bulgaria's keeper was just awful. The best part was the cheerleaders! Ireland had leprechauns, and they showered us with gold! Sadly, it all vanished by dawn; leprechaun gold y'know? But Bulgaria had VEELA! I mean, you hear about really cool stuff, right? But you never really expect to see that stuff. A couple dozen drop-dead gorgeous birds, all with the 'Come Hither' aura. Yeah, I made a fool of myself. So did Malfoy before his dad grabbed him, so there's that.
And then they turned into humanoid birds. Feathers, beak, tossing around fireballs. Kinda killed me in the scrote, mate, not gonna lie.
After all that people were celebrating or partying, and then Death Eaters show up! They were blasting tents and tormenting the muggles who owned the campgrounds. Bill's girlfriend was dead set on taking them on, but Bill pulled her away to keep her friend safe. By the way, you met Lara and Sam on that trip of yours. You meet any birds that hot our age? If so, can you bring them back with you?
Mum is right brassed off at Lara for filling Ginny's head with 'unladylike ideas'. Going by Mum's face, you'd think nobody talked about what they did for a living. I mean, Lara really has a way with words about the history stuff, and Ginny was paying a lot of attention. I think Ginny has a new personal hero rather than Gwenog Jones.
The Warhammer box. Mate, MUGGLES came up with this? It's bloody BRILLIANT! The dice, the figurines, the rules... I've been talking with the twins about how Wizard's Chess pieces are animated, and they have all the Advanced Potions books because of their joke sweets. If I can get ahold of a few spells, some potions, I think I can make a magical version. I have the idea, now I'm doing the research. About time, right? I think Snape'll be in for a shock when School starts back up. I wonder if he'll be willing to answer a few questions? I guess I'll have to Gryffindor Up and face the Greasy Bat in his own dungeons! I've really been hammering at these books, including some stuff with Runes and Arithmancy. It's gonna be a long run at it, but I might have a basic setup by Christmas. Won't that be cool?
Well, I gotta go. Mum is back from school shopping; we haven't been let off the Burrow since the World Cup. Mum's freaking out that they're hiding behind bushes or lamp posts. Hell, if it wasn't for Bill and Charley both taking Hermione to Diagon, I doubt Mum would've let her go.
Write soon, mate!
Ron