Harry's Summer Vacation

The next week fairly flew past.  Harry, in a frenzy to learn as much as he could while on his potion, practically packed every day full of lessons.  He tore through the chemistry and physics books, Salim helping him to place it all within a magical context.  Standard lessons with Gurrimurra (including an entire Tuesday of reassembling the survivors of a small gang war), training with Yakumo in Aikido (throws, punches, and the use of the short staff and wooden sword, as well as the basics of the concept of Ki), training with Lotton is parkour, more driving practice with Revy outside of Roanapur (less dangerous this time), and handgun practice with both Revy and Lotton (Revy was a precision shooter, while Lotton used a pair of fully automatic pistols).

Thursday had Harry back in the clearing, being educated by Jonas Sayorahn.

"Since you have the two books down, now we discuss the philosophy of action in combat," the older man began.  "You are familiar mostly with firearms, which is good.  Magical combat is almost completely opposite from guns.

"With guns, bows, and so on, the primary point is to find cover as swiftly as possible, firing with as little of your body exposed as possible.  Body armor is also recommended, as it covers the major organs from trauma.  If you can cast cooling and weight-lightening charms, it works out much better.

"Magic, on the other hand, relies on mobility.  When a piece of cover can turn into something that can attack you, being fast and smart is essential.  Some curses can't be shielded against, merely blocked or dodged.  Fast transfiguration is critical in any magical fight, especially if you can get it off silently.  Charms are good, but directed magical energy can only go so far.

"When I was training to be a Hit Wizard, adaptability was always stressed.  Professor Flitwick was a world-class tournament champion for fifteen years partly because he's short, and thus presents a smaller target, but also because of his goblin ancestry.  Goblins are fast, usually raised from an early age in tunnel running, where the floor terrain can be uneven, and corners can cut very sharply.  Flitwick adapted this mentality to the dueling piste, where he stomped the tar out of a lot of people.  His only losses were early in his career, and those were all to people who specialized in silent Transfiguration.

"You told me that you can cast both the Summoning and Banishing charms silently and wandlessly.  I have no interest in how that came about," he continued, dismissing Harry about to open his mouth.  "Not my circus, not my monkeys, not my business.  I can state that if you're good enough, you can do a lot with those two spells."

"Actually," Harry interrupted, "three weeks ago I figured out how to throw a car."  Jonas raised his eyebrows at that, as Harry continued, "Silent Levitation charm on the car, and then a silent Banisher at the car, disguising it as a kick."

"Impressive," came the musing reply.  "Yes, I'm seeing it.  Nothing above Fourth Year, simple, effective.  Very nice," he admitted.  "I wish I'd thought of that in '75," he ended ruefully.

"At any rate, Lotton tells me that you're learning a lot of skills, and at an accelerated rate.  This is good, since we're going to be spending today and tomorrow drilling reactions.  Next week, I'll drop off the copy of my personal spell book for you.  Most of what I can teach is a combination of war psychology, technique, and mental fluidity.  I've always said that it's better to have ten spells that you can cast even while going into shock, than a hundred that you have to choose from.  We'll start with the physical drilling."

Saturday morning had Harry back at the garage, talking to Hawthorne as the man was working on some sort of gauntlet.

"So, three girlfriends, and a friend with benefits.  I'm not sure how all that works," Harry admitted, "but I'm not really complaining.  Wait," Harry said, narrowing his eyes at Sam's bemused expression, "how did you know?"

"I put it together when you were confused about the three girls getting more touchy with you," Sam admitted with a smirk.  "I thought you being a romantic potato was cute."

Harry blinked at the odd phrase.  "Romantic potato?"

"A romantic potato is a person who does all the sweet, romantic things, never realizing the effect he's having on someone he honestly sees as a friend," Sam explained, bending a bit of metal to fit over the forearm of the elbow-length leather glove.

"Huh.  What an odd, yet accurate phrase," Harry commented.

"Have you told anyone?"

Harry shrugged at the question.  "Just Sawyer and Revy.  Sawyer because it came up, and I tell Revy almost everything.  And I told the girlfriends about what I did with Sawyer; it'd be kind of rude not to.  Pretty sure Revy knows about me and Sawyer, though."

"'A gentleman never kisses and tells, but a woman is not beholden to such a standard'.  Basically, a decent man won't brag, but women will discuss it.  It's a truism that holds up, Harry."

"So I can count on the girlfriends meeting Sawyer.  Great," Harry groaned out.

"Anything else?"

"Actually," Harry began, "I think I know why I wasn't feeling too bad about Yamatai.  I told you about Healer Morgan putting me on a body rebuild potion."  Sam nodded at that, fiddling with some sort of spring-wound mechanism.  "Turns out that it has brain effects as well.  She called it 'a greying of morality'."

"Got it," Sam said.  "That was actually the piece we were missing."  At Harry confused expression, he said, "Given your moderate malnutrition growing up, such a potion would be repairing the nerves in your brain, rewiring everything for better health.  With me so far?"  Harry nodded at the summation.  "The first round of potion already had a month to work on you.  The day you landed on Yamatai, you'd already taken the second dose.  That means that your neurology was already primed to take fullest advantage of everything you underwent.  

"That means that you were psychologically primed to handle pretty much everything you encountered with little adverse effect.  Sure, you threw up the first time you killed, and held it down the next couple of times.  But after that it got a lot easier, didn't it?"  Harry nodded at that, pacing back and forth.  "And then, at the end of it all, you had to provide mercy.  You probably wouldn't have been able to do that without the lead-up of the potion and your experiences.  Add in the encounter with Death, and suddenly you are going to be able to mentally handle a lot more than you could before.

"The short answer is that you basically went through a sort of maturity that takes most people decades to get to.  And the ones that go through it on the scale that you did tend to have nightmares, flashbacks, and so on.  Really, almost all of the issues we've been handling here has been your upbringing and the threats at your school.  Everything after that was rapidly adapted to.  You get me?"

"I think so, yeah," Harry said, sitting back down.  "It certainly explains how I was able to plan a kidnapping last week.  I'd been wondering about how easy that was."

"Exactly correct," Sam said, rigging up some sort of knife in the opposite gauntlet.  "So what are you going to do with this?"

"Keep learning," Harry stated firmly.  "I still have a week on the physical potion, and then a month on the purely mental one.  So I keep learning as hard and as fast as I can manage."

"Just don't forget to have fun," Sam commented, testing the ejection and retraction of the blade.  "Downtime is important, too."

"I know," Harry sighed out.  "I've been trying to dedicate Sundays for that, at least the mornings.  I picked up a bunch of car models and paints, some different RC cars to play with.  And there's my broom project."

"How's that coming along?"

"Slowly,” Harry sighed out.  “Carving the runes is pretty simple, but I’m having issues getting them all to work.  The power flows only go so far.”

Sam stopped fiddling, eyes blinking rapidly.  “Have you considered a kind of transmission?  Instead of shifting gears, you shift rune sets?  Different situations, different functions?”

“Huh.  A couple of rune clusters as ‘always on’, like basic flight and environmental charms.  Different sets for different functions.  I’m actually trying to build something for Search And Rescue.  Snap-out spars with tight cloth on the sides, high straight speed.  It wouldn’t have to corner hard, or instantly stop like a quidditch broom.”

Sam walked over to a blackboard covered in equations.  Wiping it clean, he drew a basic broom the way Harry had described.  “So, pilot in the center, a stretcher on either side.  Speed to get a person to the hospital...  Kind of like the old medical helicopters...

“You’ll need expanded environmental charms on it to protect the patients,” he continued, drawing out designs, “as well as some form of impact dispersal for birds.”

“I’m seeing it,” Harry replied, walking up.  “Like, a sheath made of air?  A modified non-stick charm to reduce wind resistance...  Adjustable sheath?  Shaped, maybe?”

“Use plane designs,” Sam commented, sketching out more.  “Ailerons made of semi-solid air.  A runic ‘transmission’ to shift the size of the sheath, to adjust maneuverability.”

“I think I get it...” Harry mumbled, pulling out a notebook to jot it all down.

Once he was done, Sam said, “Now, given what all you’re learning, I want to teach you a couple of things.  In all honesty, you’ve pretty much dealt with almost everything I can help you with, but I’m being paid until you leave.

“Therefore, I want to teach you some stuff.  First,” he began, writing an incantation on the chalkboard, “is a spell of my own design.  It’s meant to identify the functions of an enchanted item.  It’s casting time is long, really long,” he admitted, “and it has limits.

“First, you have to at least determine that whatever you cast it on isn’t sentient, or possessed.  This spell will directly open you to whatever influences the item is under.  That diary you mentioned?  Casting this on the diary would spell instant possession.

“Second, there are items out there so complicated that they’ll defy analysis.  In that case, the spell won’t do much more than show you the basic capabilities of the item.”

“Got it.  Thanks, Sam.  I’ve got two trunks full of magic stuff that I mostly can’t make heads or tales of.  This will help a lot.”

”So there’s that.  Next is your knowledge of chemistry.”

“I’ve got a lot of the basics,” Harry admitted, “but I’m still working on the mental part.”

“Let me guess,” Sam smirked out, “you’ve been trying to visualize the chemical structure, memorizing the exact compositions?”  Harry nodded at that.  “I see.  Let me suggest a different approach.

“Knowing the compositions is important, don’t let anyone tell you different.  But knowing the effect of the composition is better.”  Harry’s eyes widened at that.  “For example, chlorine trifluoride,” he began, sketching the very simple molecule on the chalkboard.  “Simple, straight forward, and it hates existing.  One of the most powerfully unstable oxidizers on the planet.  With me so far?”  Harry nodded, taking more notes.  “This stuff will burn anything.  Stone, concrete ashes, sand, asbestos, you name it, it’s on fire.  Underwater?  Easy.  In vacuum?  It carries it’s own oxygen.  So far below the freezing point that it’s damn near at Absolute Zero?  It’s on fire.  I’m sure you can think of the many applications the conjuring a small quantity can serve.

“Hexanitrohexaazaisowurtzitane,” he continued, sketching a far more complex molecule on the board, “is a nitroamine explosive with an explosive expansion rate of nine kilometers per second.  But it’s unreliable for actually exploding unless you can induce it; I’m willing to bet that a bit of magical lightning will do that.  Imagine transfiguring a patch of someone’s robe into that.

“I think you’re getting the general idea,” Sam said, setting down the chalk.  “While I do have degrees in chemistry, all of this information is available at just about any library in the West.  Take your time, take the proper safety precautions, and experiment.”

That afternoon had Harry meeting up with his three girlfriends for lunch.  They weren’t due at their places of work until after five, so all four went out to a nice little Hindi place.  The girls flirted shamelessly with each other as well as Harry, making him blush a little.

They ended up walking around a park on the West end of town, one of the safer ones.  The girls talked about work, and Harry talked about some of the stuff he’d been working on (the non-magical stuff).  Eva complained about a particular side customer who didn’t want to keep buying her services if she was going to keep up the non-sexual portion of her business, whereas Zara had had three separate offers of marriage, all refused.  Urara hadn’t had any side business over the week, but had made quite a lot in tips from a group of American mercenaries that had swung into the club.

And then Harry found a nice spot.  Laying out a large blanket, all four sat and talked some more,  The three talked about their plans to put together their own club, with a conventional Eurobeat dance floor, a proper (and safe) brothel on the second floor, and a private membership bondage club at the top.  Harry bemoaned that he would be leaving for Scotland in a few weeks, commenting that he really didn’t want to leave sunny and warm Roanapur for snowy and bitter Scotland.

Harry walked all three girls back to their places, and received a deep, invasive kiss (and more than a little groping) from each of them.

The next morning had Harry at the clinic again, this time cooking up potions.  His mind reeled at the complexity of some of them, and while he only just kept up, Gurimurra seemed to be pleased with his efforts.

That afternoon had him training more with Yakumo in Ki, pressure points, and the short staff and wooden sword.  Finally, they wrapped up, and Harry invited his friend inside.

After showers, the two sat in Harry’s apartment, letting the burn relax from their muscles.

“No, Lotton has me learning something called Beast Magic,” Yakumo said, sipping at his soda.  “It’s a kind of demonic summoning, short term assault stuff.  I may not have a lot of magic, so most of what I seem to be able to do is make ritual deals.”

“That’s kind of screwy,” Harry noted, flipping through a few books laid out on his bed.  “Of course, the problem is that all my stuff is Western.  You said that the Sanjiyan are what, Tibetan?”  Yakumo nodded at that.  “So there’s not a lot I can find out,” Harry admitted, closing the books.  “It does make me wonder if you can use a wand.”

“You got one I can try?”

Harry smirked, handing over his holly wand.  Yakumo took it, twirling it a little.  He then handed it back, saying, “Just feels like a bit of wood to me, Harry.”

“Well, it was worth a shot,” Harry said, shrugging as he put the wand away.  “Been learning anything else?”

“I’ve been working at my paper charms; Steve Long gave me a few books on it after I rescued his sister.  She was supposed to be a sacrifice for some Kaiyanwang worshipers, and we got her out.  I’m still trying to figure out how I called my arm like that.  Oh,” he explained at Harry’s curious look, “I got my arm cut off while holding a sword.  Somehow, I pulled it back to me, still gripping the blade.  I really messed up that demon with it, too,” he ended with a chuckle.  “Anyways, calligraphy was never a strong suit for me, so it’s an ongoing process.”

“That’s fair,” Harry reasoned.  “I’m just trying to figure out where to find more information on all of this.  Kaiyanwang, the Sanjiyan, demons...  Shit, where to begin?”

“That’s my biggest problem,” Yakumo admitted.  “Without something to go on, I’m stuck training.  I don’t know where Pai is, where this Sanjiyan ‘Holy Land’ is, or even what all a Wu is supposed to be capable of.  So I’m doing what I can.”

Harry and Yakumo both turned their heads because of a banging at the door.  Peering through the peephole, Harry saw Revy on the other side, looking amused.

“Evening, Revy,” Harry said after opening the door.  “You’re looking manic tonight.”

“Yup!” Revy replied with a wide grin.  Harry took note of the large box in her arms as she let herself inside the small apartment.  “Shit, I didn’t know you had company.”

“Yeah, we just wrapped up training.  Yakumo, this is Revy, my adopted sister.  Revy, this is Yakumo Fuji, who I met through Lotton.”

“Nice to meet you.  Harry, tonight I’m doing my bit as your Big Sister.  I’m teaching you how to drink!”

“What,” Harry deadpanned, eyes wide as Yakumo snickered.

“Look, it’s my duty as a Big Sister to make sure you don’t drink like a fucking teenager, to ensure you know how to hold your liquor,” she explained, setting the box on the bed.  “Therefore, instead of taking you to a bar or some shit, I figured we’d be safe and do it here.”

“Uhh...”

“It’s not a terrible idea,” Yakumo interjected, still smirking.  “I know how to hold mine because of my old job, but you probably haven’t had alcohol before, Harry.”

“This is true...”

“Tell you what.  I’ll mix, Revy demonstrates, and you follow.  What do you think, Harry?”

Harry sighed, tossing the idea around in his head.  “Fine.  Revy, is there any possibility of Dutch needing you tonight?”

“Nope.  Dutch is out doing Dutch shit, Benny is two towns over haggling over some new electronics, and Rock is with him.  It’s just us, bay-bee!”

Harry unzipped his backpack fully, saying, “Good.  Because once we’re inside, I got no reception; I’m still trying to figure out how to get around that.  There’ll be more space, better furniture, and I have a couple of shrunken crates of booze that my grandfather stole and put under stasis.  Shall we?”

The next morning had Revy slowly waking up, her head miraculously not throbbing.  She’d gotten drunk, very, very drunk.  Harry had been hysterical in his own state; he kept trying to do magic while slurring the words, to hilarious effect.  Yakumo himself had been a bit tipsy, even though he kept up drink for drink with Revy, and explained that his own magical nature negated most drugs.

Shifting slightly, she could tell that her bed was warm, and that she wasn’t alone.  Opening her eyes, she saw Harry’s long, thick, unruly hair as he slept, one arm curled around her as she used his chest as a pillow.

Slowly extricating herself, she noted that she was nude, as was Harry.  Walking to the bathroom revealed that no, they had not had sex.  As she sat on the toilet, she wondered if she was pleased or disappointed.  Settling for pleased, she went into the bedroom, gathered up her clothes, and walked out dressed in Harry’s bathrobe.

To see Yakumo sitting at the kitchen island sipping tea.  “Sleep well?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yeah, I did,” she replied, laying her clothes in a chair.  “I always sleep well when it’s with Harry.”

“That’s good to hear,” he replied.

“Oh, what happened last night?  I remember bits, but not everything.”

Yakumo chuckled, handing her a can of coffee before saying, “Well, it started off good.  I began mixing cocktails, light stuff, as you told Harry about each one.  After a few of those, you got impatient and lined up the shot glasses.  I began pouring the liquor that Harry pulled out.

“I don’t know if you know,” Yakumo continued conversationally, “but Harry is probably unique in all of the city in that he’s on a potion designed to keep him alive no matter what.  Adaptation is the sole purpose of it.  So he got drunk way slower than you did.”

“God fucking dammit,” Revy muttered.  “Fine.  What retarded fuckery did I do?”

“About the third bottle in, you started going on about how Harry was the brohter you always wanted, and Harry went into how someone named Lara was the sister he deserved, but you were the sister he needed.  You two got really huggy with each other.  There was some light kissing involved, non-sexual rubbing, that sort of thing.  I’ve seen it between close cousins before.

“Finally, you said you had enough of Harry being the best little brother in the world, and were going straight to the incest.”  Revy hung her head at that, groaning.  “So I helped the two of you get to the bedroom, where you both stripped down.  Harry cuddled you up, forced a hangover potion into you, and then cast a sleeping spell on you before passing out.”

“Fuuck...” Revy groaned out.  “I really fucked that one up, didn’t I?”

Yakumo shrugged, handing her a plate full of toast.  “Doubtful.  Harry really likes you, and loves having you as family.  I don’t think drunken stupidity is going to do anything about that, Revy.”

An hour later, Harry shambled out of the bedroom.  Tapping the coffee maker with his wand, he sat down at the island with the other two.  “Is it normal to feel like someone carpeted my mouth?”

“Yup,” Yakumo replied, still smiling.  “Welcome to your first hangover, Harry.  Was it everything you could ever hope and dream of?”

“Funny,” Harry snarked to Yakumo.  “Sis, how’re you doing?”

“Embarrassed,” Revy admitted.  “I can’t believe I tried pulling that shit, Harry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry shrugged, finally pouring himself a mug.  “I never had any good family members before, and you and Lara are the best big sisters I could ask for.  Nothing happened, and I’m not going to get worked up over a drunken thing.”

“Thanks, Harry.  Listen, I should get going,” Revy said, standing up.  “I need a shower, and clean clothes.”

“Sure,” Harry answered, standing up.  “Oh, that reminds me,” he began, walking around to a table in the sitting room.  Coming back, he handed Revy a belt pouch.  “This is a moke-skin pouch.  It’s basically a belt pouch that nobody will notice, and it’s bigger on the inside.  I did a little shopping, and put some extra ammo and stuff in there for you.  All you have to do is reach in, imagine it. and the bag will put it in your hand.”

Revy gave Harry a watery smile before pulling him into a powerful hug.  And then she left.