Harry's Summer Vacation

Revy was in the back seat of the car as Benny drove them back, only half listening to Dutch talking to Rock.  What did catch her attention was Dutch telling Rock, "The bottom line is, no matter what happens to Garcia or the little maid, we have to watch out for ourselves.  If you can't understand that, I want you off my boat for good.  Hell, even Harry knows that, and he's not even crew!"

Revy smirked, knowing full well that Rock would assist Garcia.  'Little bleeding heart fucktard,' she thought, fishing out her buzzing phone.

'He already decided, hasn't he?' was Harry's text.

'Oh yeah.  I can see it all over him.  Gonna be just like Japan.  Hopefully I won't have to spend weeks in hospital because of his stupid kindness bullshit.'

'Wow.  Bad time.  Can you swing by the apartment later?  We need to talk about some family stuff.'

Revy smirked at that.  'I thought we agreed no incest.  Unless you want to get me in the family way ;-)'

'Revy, you're disgusting, and I'm glad that I don't have to ask what's wrong with you.  No, it's a serious talk.'

The first line made Revy giggle, the second sobered her.  She knew that when Harry got really serious, some deep shit was about to go down.

'Teasing done.  I'll be there soonish.'

Twenty minutes later, Benny dropped Revy off at the apartment building.  Frowning, she went up and knocked on Harry's door.

"Hey Revy."

"Harry.  What's got you all serious and shit?"

Harry gestured for her to have a seat.  Pacing a little, he led with, "Okay, magic.  I'll be honest, there's a ton of shit I just don't know, Revy.  I'm getting better with it, but I ran across something interesting.  My friend Neville sent me some books on pureblood culture and spells normally used between family members.  I've been reading them, and something caught my attention.

"How would you like to be my sibling magically?" Harry asked, having taken one of her hands in his own and looking her directly in the eye.

"Wha-  How would- Harry, the fuck?"

Letting go of her hand, he sat down on the bed.  "I've given this a lot of thought.  Been considering it since before the job with Johnny.  The book on common family magics includes an adoption ritual.  What I'm offering is for you and I, through the use of sorcery, to become brother and sister as far as magic is concerned."

Revy considered that, rolling it around in her head.  "Would it make me magic, or anything?  Would it change us?  Like, suddenly I have your eyes, or some shit?"

Harry shook his head.  "No, but it would give us a better connection.  I mean, we're pretty good as-is, right?" he asked with a smirk.  "So this would make us better.  It'd also make it easier for me to set up protections from exotic shit for you."

"What kind of 'exotic shit' are we talking, Harry?"

"Mostly mental," Harry admitted.  "Compulsions, potions, mind reading and memory alteration.  It's all out there, Revy.  I want to make sure my sister is safe from shit she can't see."

Revy felt the tears rise.  She was pretty sure that nobody had ever so completely, unreservedly, and platonically loved her like Harry did.  "I-I would love that.  Yes, let's do this."

"Okay, the ritual space we need is pretty big," Harry admitted, "so we'll have to go to a spot I know.  I can teleport us there, but lemme tell you, it's going to suck."

"I never teleported before," Revy commented excitedly.  "When do we go?"

"Take my hand, sis."

Ten minutes later, Revy was done dry heaving as Harry cleaned her up and gave her something for her stomach.  "Yeah," she rasped out.  "That sucked."

"I had to get used to it," Harry admitted, already pulling out his walking stick.  The afternoon sun beat down in the clearing that Harry had been training in, but at least a slight breeze dried the sweat from them.

Harry cast continuously for several minutes, and Revy watched in fascination as runes rose out of the dirt in a circle, lines connecting the points as more symbols erupted from the lines themselves.  Finally, Harry stopped casting.  As he shed his coat and gauntlet, he said, "You'll need to take off the bag I gave you.  We don't want any interference."

Revy did, as well as her pistols once she saw Harry set two wands and his cane on the coat, which was draped over his pack.  Harry also pulled off his boots, saying, "Go ahead and keep yours on.  Mine are dragonhide; they might interfere, but I'm taking no chances."

Harry ran her through the ritual itself, which was pretty simple.  Finally, both stepped into the circle.  They sat facing each other, and Harry guided their palms together.

"This day, before the Unconquered Sun, I, Harry James Potter, Head of the House of Gaunt, make the offer of family to one I have named Sister in my heart.  Will you, in truth and magic, accept this offer?"

Revy smiled, a true genuine smile that hadn't graced her face in her memory.  "I, Rebecca Annabell Lee, accept your offer of family with all my heart."

Revy blinked as their hands began to glow.  The color coming from her own hands was a dark red, banded with black, while Harry's was a far more complex rainbow of very complicated colors.  Slowly, the colors began blending, merging, before fading into one another.

"Magic has accepted our family," Harry intoned.  "Let you now, and forever more, be known as Revy Melissa Gaunt.  So let it be scriven."

Revy twitched, actually feeling the magic take hold before a pulse of force rippled out from their hands, wiping out the symbols of the circle.  Harry helped her to her feet before hugging her, whispering, "I love you sis."

"I love you too, bro," she whispered back, freely weeping tears of joy.

Finally, they broke the clasp, and went to retrieve their belongings.  "So, it was simple, I got that," Revy admitted, strapping her holsters back on.  "But you said non-magicals couldn't see magic, right?"  Harry nodded, tying up his boots.  "So how could I see that shit with our hands?"

"I'm not really sure," Harry admitted.  "We already had a pretty strong bond.  This might've just pushed you into being a squib, kind of like Rock.  I'll ask Gurrimurra to check you over, make sure we didn't fuck something up."

"Sounds good.  I...  Huh.  Harry, is it weird that I think I can feel your joy?"

Harry frowned before digging the book out of his bag.  Flipping through it, he said, "This ritual was used to bring non-magicals into magical families.  It's been used this way for centuries.  That doesn't make sense.  And no, we didn't accidentally get magically married; I made damn sure I got the right ritual."

"Can-can you feel anything from me?" Revy asked hesitantly.

"I think...  There was an outpouring of care and affection, and just now a tickle of fear," Harry replied, donning his gauntlet.  "At any rate, welcome to the family, Revy Gaunt."

"Why Gaunt?" Revy asked, shaking out her hair.  "Why not Potter?"

"Because I'm not the head of the House of Potter yet," Harry said, pulling his coat back on.  "And out here, I'm also not the Sun King of Yamatai.  I am the head of the House of Gaunt and the Bloodline of Slytherin, so I could adopt you into either of those houses."

"Revy Gaunt.  Huh.  I kinda like it.  Any idea what the Gaunt family was about?"

Harry kind of shrugged as he shouldered his bag.  "Apart from being poor?  Being purebloods, probably just a lot of incest.  I don't know if..."  Harry trailed off, looking at Revy who looked as if her birthday, Christmas, and April 17th had all come at once.  "No.  Oh, no!  Nononono!" Harry exclaimed.  "I am not dealing with more of your incest jokes, dammit!" Harry exclaimed through a smirk.

"Ohh, just you wait, brother," Revy commented with a shark-like grin.  "You'll see.  Big Sister Revy is gonna be the best fucking sister ever!"

"God fucking dammit," Harry muttered, rubbing the bridge of his nose.  Ten minutes later, Revy was once more done dry heaving and off to her own apartment.

'That was a very wonderful thing that you did, Young Master,' Salim quietly commented.  'You both will make formidable family members.  It's always a wondrous occasion when a loving adoption takes place.'

"Thank you," Harry said, stripping down for a shower.  "I was a little afraid that she wouldn't want to, but it worked out, didn't it?"

'Indeed it did,' Salim chuckled out.  

The next morning found Harry trying to regain ground on his shopping trip.  The city denizens were still nervous and twitchy, but Harry got most of the bulk goods taken care of.

Stopping at a street corner, he had a passing thought about the logistics of his near-future travels.  He knew that his idea was too far for Dutch to be able to pull off, and he wasn't sure how thorough magical Customs were.  And with what he was carrying in his bag, well...

He then perked up a little, considering the previous day.  Three phone calls later (a request, a number, and an appointment), and he was on his way to an upscale section of Roanapur.

Stepping into a very nice building, a somewhat familiar man in a suit wearing sunglasses stepped up.  "Mister Potter?  I am Biu, assistant to Mr. Chang.  Please follow me."

A few minutes of elevator time later, and Harry was standing in a very well appointed office.  A pair of new-looking couches were before a massive desk, and a full bar was against a wall.  Behind the desk was a massive set of windows overlooking almost all of Roanapur.

"Good afternoon, Mister Potter," Mr. Chang said congenially, coming around the desk to shake his hand.  "I've been hearing quite a lot about you, young man.  And not just from the locals.  Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thank you, sir," Harry replied, clearly confused.  "I'm sorry, Mr. Chang, but I was just trying to arrange some quiet international shipping.  I didn't think I'd be brought directly to one of the city's major players."

Mr. Chang chuckled at that, pushing Harry into a couch.  "I have an interest in everyone who's in my city, Harry," he commented, pouring himself a drink while leaning against his desk.  "After all, my daughter was very put out with you last year."

"Daughter?" Harry asked blankly.  "I think I'll need some context, sir."

"From what I understand," Mr. Chang began, "you not only feinted her out, but grabbed the winning ball out from under her nose?"

"Wait...  You're Cho's father?" Harry asked incredulously.

"She's my youngest," the older man admitted.  "Believe it or not, I'm a Hong Kong native.  Since it's under British management, my little girl goes to Hogwarts.  And yes, I'm cleared for the Statute of Secrecy."

"Oh.  Oh, wow," Harry breathed out in relief.  "That's actually a load off my mind, sir.  I keep having to edit my stories to keep the secret."

"Makes sense," Mr. Chang admitted.  "So, more than most people in the city, I know about the Boy-Who-Lived stuff, as well as a lot of the finer details of that war.  Hong Kong doesn't have the same political problems that Britain does, so that helps.

"Add in some of the activities you've gotten up to here in my city, and you were going to meet one of us bosses at some point.  So, what do you need shipped?"

Blinking at the sudden change of subject, Harry replied, "Well, I have a bunch of stuff I don't want getting caught moving across international lines, sir.  Unlicensed guns, a couple of grenade launchers, a ton of ammunition.  Oh, also cocaine, heroin, meth amphetamines, and MDMA; somewhere around three kilograms of each.  And that's not counting magical stuff that might be legal in some countries, but not others."

"You've been busier that I was led to believe," Chang admitted, sitting on the couch opposite Harry.  "You look like a clean-cut kid, healthy living and all that.  What's all the drugs for?"

"Potions," Harry instantly stated.  "Heroin is used for potions involving nerves, and cocaine is a shelf-life extender.  I've been experimenting with meth and MDMA to see if they have any uses in potions as well.  Since they're so new, I figure that nobody's really fiddled with them too much, since Magical Britain likes to believe that it's still the Victorian Era, and the British Empire still rules the world."

Mr. Chang laughed at that.  "My daughter complains about the same things, Harry.  The exact same.  So, how big of a container are we talking?"

"Are you familiar with the school trunks?"  Chang nodded around his drink.  "Not larger than that.  Space expansion spells and shrinking charms.  If you wanted, I could make the whole thing the size of a matchbox for about six months."

"If you can do that, why not just mail it?"

"Because I don't want it getting lost in the post, sir.  It does happen, and more often and people like to admit.  I'd rather pay a premium to ensure that it gets where it's supposed to go than trust nameless wageslaves who could care less to get a package to the other side of the world."

"Quality costs," Chang nodded in agreement, "but it's usually worth it.  I think we can work something reasonable out.  So what's your take on the current issue?"

"The Lovelace issue?"  Chang nodded, sipping at his drink.  "I think it's a mess, and it's going to end poorly.  You using the Lagoon Company seems like a dick move to me, even if I can understand your neutrality, sir."

Chang chuckled at the admission, saying, "Well, Dutch saw it coming as soon as he saw me in the room.  He knew what the score would be, and walked along with it.  And he knows the kind of favors and goodwill that he's earning by cooperating with me.  But are you getting involved?"

Harry shrugged.  "Not sure.  If Revy calls, I'm in, no question about it.  Because if she calls, I'm rolling in to murder everything.  If doesn't, probably not."

"You're awfully attached to Two-Hands," Chang noted with a tiny smirk.  "What's up with that?"

"You're familiar with the Magical World a little, right?"  Chang nodded.  "Are you familiar with Pureblood politics and House Magics?"

"Not offhand, but I'm sure Cho can find me something on it."

"As the last and only Potter, I can adopt people into my house," Harry stated, pulling a water bottle off of the side of his bag.  "As far as magic is concerned, Revy is my sister.  And as an orphan, I am violently protective of my family."

"I get that.  So, let's talk numbers and deliveries, and move to some other things I'm curious about..."

Three hours later (and a promise to drop off the trunk the day before he left), Harry was back in his apartment making calls.  Slipshard, Laura Langley, Jurgens, and others all received calls with orders and suggestions.  The rest of the evening was spent with Urara and Zara, grazing through various food places in between dancing at clubs, some more adult rated than others.

The next morning (October 13, 1994) found Harry in his apartment, sifting through more information inside his head.  Enchanting, runic sorcery in a dozen languages, advanced rituals based in asian and european methodology, with the occasional base learning accompanying.  Tom's was from his NEWT years in Hogwarts, while Himiko's was from her upbringing in Imperial China; apparently one of her long-term goals was the unification of early Japan into it's own empire, a goal that had failed alongside her resurrection.

That afternoon, Harry was once more wandering, collecting specific items this time.  More radio control stuff, a shortwave radio set from a surplus shop, some military manuals in Cyrillic and winter clothing from one of Hotel Moscow's allied sellers, military surplus items from a dozen sellers, and good fakes of famous brands of fashion and jewelry.

Night had just begun to fall when his phone buzzed.  'Assistance needed at Warkhat.  Maid spotted, magic can help'  Frowning at Lotton's text message, he calculated where he was in the city versus the Warkhat neighborhood.

Cursing softly, he looked around before his eyes fell on a sleek BMW parked on the street.  Eyes flicking back and forth to check, he walked up to it.

Two uses of the Unlocking Charm (door lock and ignition), one Severing Charm (for the alarm system power supply), and a screwdriver later, Harry was speeding down the streets of Roanapur in a stolen high performance car.

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' Salim asked nervously.  'Dutch mentioned that you shouldn't get involved.'

"It isn't," Harry admitted, drifting the car around a corner, 'but Lotton wouldn't text unless it was something he couldn't handle.  And if he's there, Revy's there.  Rock wouldn't know how to hire him without her."

'That's a good point,' Salim quietly admitted.  'Do you have a plan?'

"I have most of a plan," Harry said, "but most of it will be played by ear."

Ten seconds later, the report of a very heavy rifle could be heard.  After parking, Harry pulled out his sat-phone and activated the Regional Search Function.   Almost instantly, the linked phones on the network appeared on the screen; Revy and Lotton were both less than a block away.

Harry got out of the car and pulled out his broom and cloak.  Taking to the sky, he looked down to get a feel for the situation.

There was Revy, angling for a shot as a statuesque woman slammed her boot into Lotton's groin.  As he reeled back, Sawyer charged in, only to have her chainsaw blocked by the fingerguards of the woman's pistols.  Almost explosively, the chain buckled, shattering as the women barely managed to escape the shrapnel of flesh-rending teeth.  Turning to flee, the woman somehow caught Shenhua's kukri in her teeth, shattering it with bite pressure alone.

Eyes flicking, Harry saw Garcia over the shoulder of one of the Americans in the photograph, and Fabiola pleading with the woman to stop.  Descending invisibly, Harry cast a number of spells, including one developed by Voldemort to maximize his reign of terror.

"Accio Maid," as Roberta was pulled out into the street, "Muggletum Revelio," as his magic changed every so slightly to be visible to non-magicals, "Protego Horribilis, Stupefy Maxima," as flames rose around Roberta, black and gold limning the buildings that surrounded them twenty feet high.

Harry was amazed that, even as invisible as he was, Roberta somehow managed to evade his shots.  Fortunately for him, the gelatin paintballs still managed to splatter her a little on her legs.

Roberta huffed, her eyes slowly becoming less insane as a pair of potions began working.  Pepper-Up and a Cleansing potion, combined with DMSO so that the two could be instantly absorbed through the skin.  Peering around, her mind finally alert after days of amphetamines and no sleep, she took in the flames, black on one side, gold on the other.  The young man who seemingly appeared out of nowhere, eyes the color of death, dressed in a long coat and a fedora, the handle of a sword visible over his shoulder.

"I know your tale," Harry began, "and I don't care.  I offer you a choice."

"Let me go," the woman snarled.

"You are free to go, after your choice.  The black flames are the flames of Wrath; stepping through them will burn away Roberta, leaving only Rosarita.  The gold flames are of Duty; stepping through them will burn away Rosarita, leaving only Roberta.  Now choose, Duty or Wrath."

Roberta looked at him, then her eyes flicked to the flames, looking for a way out.  There was no aggression in his poise, simply determination.  "And if I kill you?" she asked.

"Then the flames will remain until you choose.  The choice must be made by you.  Choose."

Eyes narrowing even as her mind tried to rebel against Harry's magical command, she considered her options.  The flames were too high to vault, and her targets were escaping.  Frowning, she began to lean...

When a large truck bulled it's way through the flames, sliding sideways to a stop.  Leaping, she was suddenly on the hood of the truck, and then gone, even as soldiers shouted at her in Russian as they fired their rifles.

Growling softly, Harry dismissed the flames as Revy ran up to him.

"What the fuck was that, Harry?" she demanded, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"It had to be done," Harry commented, exhaustion filling his voice.

"Mister Potter, what was that?" Garcia asked, a trace of fear in his voice.

"A choice," Harry replied, ignoring the russians behind him as they gave chase.  "She had to choose, FARC Warrior or Maid.  And you had to see her choose."

"And how would that have gotten us back out Head Matron?" Fabiola demanded.

"Because I lied," Harry admitted.  "As soon as she crossed the flames, she would've been knocked out.  But she would have made the choice, and you, Garcia, would have seen her choice.

"Fuck all this, I'm going home.  Anyone want a ride?"

Harry dropped off Lotton, Sawyer, and Shenhua at Shenhua's apartment; apparently Rock was down the way in Benny's car waiting to pick up Revy, Garcia, and Fabiola.  Once Harry refilled the tank of the BMW that he'd stolen, he parked it in the same spot he found it before he want back to his apartment to sleep.

The next day found him at the Lagoon Company dock office.  Even though it was empty, Harry kept himself busy by going through the latest experimental models that Benny had assembled.  Noted for a digital camera built into the phone were there, as well as basic software for video conferencing.  A crude internet browser was on the computer that Benny had bought for the sat-phone project, and there had been plenty of communication between Benny and Jurgens.  Tons of notes, ideas, and concepts had been bandied about.  Everything from their own internet independent of the Arpanet, which was the foundation for the current iteration of the internet, to remote control modules, advanced communications via sight-to-sight lasers, to swappable cartridge modules to enable radio and TV communications.

Between what he'd picked up from Benny and Sam Hawthorne, Harry managed to kludge together a compatible digital camera, as well as adjust the software to allow for the various cartridges that they'd been theorizing.

Later that evening, the Black Lagoon berthed in it's dock.  Harry leapt to tie it up as Revy shoved Rock off the boat with a snarl.

"Harry, this fuckwit was why the Goddamn Russians showed up," she began, pointing to Rock who was currently sprawled on the dock.  "Someone told him you were coming, so he called Balalaika."

"I had a plan," Rock began, slowly getting up, "and I didn't know what Harry was going to do!  My plan worked, okay?"

"And Harry had the bitch locked down!" Revy screamed.

"Revy," Harry softly interrupted, "it's okay.  Rock and I were both running on a lack of planning.  I didn't know any of his plan, and he couldn't have known about mine, since I came up with it on the way to Warkhat.  Neither of us are at fault, okay?"

"Harry," Dutch's voice came from the upper cupola, "could you give me a hand in here?"

Harry went in below deck, coming face to face with Garcia, Fabiola, and a patched up Roberta.

"Mister Potter," Roberta began, her voice soft, "I want to thank you.  You offered me a choice that I'd never been offered in my life.  I am truly in your debt."

"You're welcome," Harry replied.  "As a person who's never had a lot of choice in his life, I was happy to offer that.  Good luck, you three."

"A moment, please," Fabiola said, hanging back as Garcia led Roberta out.  "Mister Potter, the Young Master knows that you were told to stay away from this.  Why did you get involved?"

"Because I'm a nosy little shit," Harry replied with a smirk, before it dropped to a serious mien.  "And because my people were involved.  I'm not going to let my people hang if there's something I can do about it.  Family is everything to me."

"I see.  Then House Lovelace thanks you," Fabiola replied, curtseying low.  "If you need anything, please feel free to contact us.  We will assist you to the best of our ability."

"Thank you.  And here's my own card," Harry replied, handing over his business card.  "Call me if you need anything, Fabiola.  Call it a feeling," he continued, eyes focused on seemingly nothing, 'but I think that you will need this sooner rather than later."

A few minutes later, Harry found Dutch at the door of one of the cargo cabins.  Blood was spattered along the floor, and the air was heavy with the scent of sulfur and saltpeter.

"Turns out the Maid was armed with an old flintlock," Dutch began.  "She posted steel rods throughout her Killing Field.  Major Caxton's men thought they might be booby-trapped, so they didn't touch them.  They achieved their objective, and Garcia got his maid back."

"This isn't a happy ending," Harry murmured.  "Doesn't seem fair, really."

"As my grandfather once told me, 'Fair is where they judge pigs.'  There's damn little in this life that's fair, Harry," Dutch explained, exhaling a lungful of smoke, "so you have to make sure your own ass is covered."

"That's a good lesson, Dutch.  Now, why am I in here?"

"I was hoping you could use your magic to clean this mess up," Dutch admitted with a rueful grin.  "Only water I've got is sea water, and trying to make Revy push a mop is like herding cats."

Harry chuckled at the mental image, but said, "Sure thing.  Is this the only cabin?"

"There's another, where Caxton's men were recovering.  Thank God you topped up our medical kit; Benny saved some lives with that stuff.  Also, I got the word that Hong Kong is clear to run.  I figure we can take you there on Sunday."

"I can work with that.  Gives me time to get things wrapped up.  Thanks, Dutch."