Runaway Wizard 5 . Harry smiled a bit as he looked at his ‘uniform’. It consisted of a pair of leather shorts with a heavy belt with a lock right at the front. There was also a barrel jacket of leather. And a collar with a lock. “Ok, kinky is not an understatement. Why all the locks?” Johnny grinned. “Means you’re off limits. Those who want to keep coming to the club will keep hands off. Those who don’t care one way or the other, can’t get to you. And you’ve got a panic button. You sure?” Harry nodded. “I’m sure. I want to try. I don’t want to disappoint you. So ... what else do I need to know.” “Don’t look anyone in the eye, you’re supposed to be giving the illusion that you’re a sub. If the patron gives you trouble, look them right in the eye. Most of them will get the hint. The one’s that don’t, get ejected. Push the panic button and bouncers will be all over it. But don’t worry too much. We don’t have much trouble. And what we do isn’t usually much.” “You ask if they’re sceneing or drinking. If they’re drinking put a red band around their wrist. The bands go on with this special tool. “ johnny showed Harry the tool, which looked like a pair of pliers with funny jaws. “If they’re playing, put a green one on them. Make sure the clamp is tight. If someone leaves through this door, cut the band off. Do not let anyone leave with a band on.” Harry nodded, “Ok. But what if I think someone’s already had a few.” “You don’t let them in if they’re really drunk. Otherwise just put a drinking band on them. If you get attitude, come up with some of your own. Got it?” Harry smiled, “Sure do. Now how do I get into this stuff.” Frankie spoke from behind Harry. “Come with me, some of the guys will help you. And you need to meet them anyway. You’ll like most of them. You probably won’t like Clark. He thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips. He’s not, don’t let him fool you. And Algie, he’s ... a problem. He’s too aggressive and thinks more of himself than is merited by his appearance and skills. Do not let him lord it over you. Now, you’ve got some stuff to do.” Harry followed Frankie into the interior of the club. The place was well lit, for now, and very clean. There were chairs all over the room, and tables, but there didn’t seem to be enough tables for all the chairs. Harry remembered Frankie saying something about being a table. Harry shrugged, typical Gryffindor that he was, he wasn’t going to worry until it was time. Frankie opened a door and announced, “Alright girls, here he is, don’t scare him half to death. Just get him into his uniform and some makeup on him. Remember, he’s only 16, hands off.” One of the men stood up and examined Harry. “Oh, bollocks, I hate you. You’re just too beautiful to be.” Harry gazed a the man in puzzled dismay. “Excuse me? I’m what?” Frankie laughed and left, shutting the door behind him. “Beautiful. Damn and green eyes. Contacts?” He gazed at Harry’s eyes, making him uncomfortable. “Yes, but not colored. Damn it! Guys,” he turned to the other men in the room. “His eye color is natural.” There were moans and groans from all over but, Harry realized, they were friendly. Another man came over with a small tackle box filled with makeup and things Harry didn’t recognize. “Ok, love, let Mikey take a look at you. I’m glad Frankie had you come in early. It gives us time to play.” Harry sat on the stool Mikey pulled out from under a mirrored table. He closed his eyes and let Mikey fiddle with his face. “Ok, open. What do you think?” Harry eyed the eye shadow, mascara and lipstick with dismay. He didn’t like it at all. It made him look – the only word he could come up with was slutty. He sighed. “It’s ok. Maybe...” Mikey shook his head. “You hate it. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. It’s ok. Maybe, just a little less is more in your case.” Another of the men insisted that Harry show them what Mikey had done. Most of them groaned and shook their heads. “Man, you made him look like a slut. He’s a lock boy. Take it all off and try again.” Mikey nodded. “I forgot that. Ok. Harry go wash your face over there in the corner. Then come back and we’ll try again. And, if you don’t like it, let me know. I want you to feel as gorgeous as you look. Now ... scoot.” Harry scooted. He scrubbed his face and gazed at himself in the mirror, trying to see what the others saw. All he saw was plain Harry Potter, scar-head freak. He sighed heavily and went back to the stool. He squirmed as everyone in the room stared at him. Another man came over and introduced himself as Hal. “Look, hun, don’t let Mikey intimidate you. He makes everyone look like a drag queen at first. Just tell him if you don’t like it.” Harry studied a cuticle intently. “I’m sorry, it's just that I don’t want to disappoint him or make him mad.” Hal snorted. “You won’t. Just stick up for yourself. And smile. No one’s going to laugh. Or if they do, it’s not meant unkindly. Now, relax.” Harry took a deep breath and tried to relax. This time it was better. Not so much eye shadow and mascara and the lip stick was gone, Mikey had substituted a subdued peach lip gloss instead. Harry eyed himself and shook his head. “It’s still too much. I don’t think I really need eye shadow, and the mascara is making my contacts bother me.” Harry went to wash his face again. Hal laughed at Mikey. “Mikey, you need to really back off on that boy. It’s still way too much. How about barely there. Very subdued. He’s not going to be on stage after all, just on the door.” Mikey pouted. “And why you didn’t tell me that right off, I’ll never know.” Another of the men called from the back of the room. “Because it’s so much fun to torment you. We’ve gotten a good laugh watching you struggle to fix him up.” Harry felt awful for Mikey, but Mikey just threw a dirty foundation sponge at the man and announced, “well, shit, see if I do your hair anymore.” the whole room laughed. Harry started to be angry but found that he couldn’t. The guys all seemed friendly and Mikey didn’t seem really angry, just annoyed at his mates for ‘having him on’. “Ok, no more fooling around, Harry. This time I’ll get it right. Close your eyes again.” Harry complied and Mikey's fingers fluttered over his face. This time, when he opened his eyes, he looked ... different. His eyes looked huge and very green. He looked older but not jaded. He eyed himself critically for a moment. “I like it. I look ... good. Now, if only ... but ...” Harry trailed off, his one wish unvoiced. “Wish what, pet? If I can, I’ll fix it. You don’t like something? What?” Harry looked at Mikey for a moment then just lifted his bangs. “I keep my fringe long because of this. I wish I could hide it. It’s ugly.” Mikey and the rest of the guys looked at the lightening bolt scar on Harry’s forehead. Mikey just sighed. “Well, shit, I should have noticed that. But you’re really good at hiding it. So ... let me see ...” Mikey fished around in his box for a moment. Then turned to another of the men. “Geo, do you still have that cover up kit? The one you got that was too dark?” Geo fished around in a drawer of the mirror station he was sitting at. “Yeah, somewhere in this mess I call a vanity. A-ha! Here it is.” Geo pulled a plastic case out of the bottom drawer and tossed it to Mikey. Mikey caught the case easily and opened it. He showed it to Harry and explained, “This is a heavy, opaque foundation. It’ll cover that scar, but if you’re not careful, you’ll attract more attention to it by trying to hide it than if you just left it alone. I’ll do it for you, this time but you’ve got to learn how to do it yourself. I won’t be able to do it for you every night. Ok?” Harry looked at the case for a second. “I see. I hope it works. I really hate this scar. And I know you won’t have time to fool with me every night. I’ll want to know how to do it anyway. I’ll probably use it all the time. Thanks.” Mikey showed Harry how to use a funny, white, wedge shaped sponge to pat the makeup onto his scar, then he powdered over it and let Harry see that it completely covered his scar. “Now, don’t touch it. Once it dries, it’ll be water proof, but if you rub at it, you can rub it off. And don’t wear a hat or anything. Next, we need to get you into your kit.” Harry wondered if he could die from blushing, but the men standing around watching his makeup lesson were all wearing robes over some costumes that were literally a bit of leather and some chains. Harry decided that he wasn’t going to act like a child over a pair of shorts and a jacket. Harry allowed himself to be stripped down to his shorts, the unexpected gasps made him flinch. He’d forgotten about his almost healed back. It just itched now and he hadn’t bothered to try to get a look at it. Frankie or Johnny put salve on it every night, so he’d expected it to heal without scars. Evidently, it hadn’t. “Harry, who did this to you? You should call the law on them.” The man looked indignant. Harry decided that honesty was the best way to go. “Won’t do any good. That’s why I ran away. My uncle did it. He’s my legal guardian. So, here I am. Don’t tell anyone. Please?” Mikey had to wipe his eyes, Hal looked like he was going to be sick and the rest weren’t much better off. “Sure thing, kiddo. No one will turn you in. That’s why you’re with Smooth an’ Silky, right?” Harry looked puzzled. “Who?” “Frankie and Johnny. They don’t use their real names, the jokes just don’t stop. Now, let us get you into your kit. Ok?” Harry just nodded, realizing with a red face that he was standing around in just his shorts. “Ok, and kind a’ fast too. I feel a definite draft.” The laughter made Harry feel good. He felt a bit better and a lot worse as soon as he was in his uniform. The shorts were indecently tight and the belt around his waist was stiff. The collar was lined with silk brocade and comfortable enough but it made Harry feel self conscious, and the jacket didn’t do much to keep him warm, all it did was cover his upper body in a tight sheath of leather. “Well, well, you’re so pretty it ought to be a crime.” Frankie whistled at Harry, making him blush deep red. “I’m not. But look...” Harry lifted his bangs. “Mikey hid my scar. What do you think?” “Very nice. You’re looking very good. Come on, I’ll show you how to work the door.” . Lucius Malfoy straightened his robes and prepared to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore. He hated the way the man could still make him feel like he was seventeen. He was going to have to see if he couldn’t do something about getting more access to Hogwarts. He didn’t like being kept out of Slytherin except when Dumbledore approved a request for a visit. He didn’t like being denied instant access to Draco. For any reason. He dragged his attention back to the task at hand. “Welcome, Lucius, I understand you have something to say to me?” Dumbledore wore his usual twinkle, a bit subdued right now but still there. “Yes, I have abandoned Voldemort. It seems that Draco can’t stand him. I thought... but never mind that. I have come to you to ask for your protection, not for myself, but for Draco. Will you grant it?” Dumbledore gazed at Lucius for several tension filled moments. “How do you expect me to believe this? What guarantees are you willing to give as to your truthfulness?” “Veritaserum. As long as you promise not to pry beyond my turning my coat. I will not place myself, nor Draco, in more danger than necessary by ... telling tales out of school, as the saying goes.” Lucius made a face at the thought of veritaserum, it gave him a headache. Dumbledore nodded then shifted in his chair. “Well, I don’t think that will be necessary. You’ll give your word that you’ll no longer support the Dark Lord. I’ll be satisfied with that. I know you well enough to know that you won’t break it once given. Tea?” Lucius gave his oath and accepted the tea. He spent the next hour being quizzed by Dumbledore on Voldemort’s actions. He told what he could, ignored what he couldn’t. “School will reconvene in another week. Draco will be back?” “Of course. I’ll ask Severus to keep a special eye on him. Things are going to be difficult for him now. I’ll be back as often as I can to see him. Excuse me. I believe I’m about to over stay my welcome.” Dumbledore just nodded. “Don’t be a stranger, my boy.” Lucius left with a pounding headache and an upset stomach. He wondered, not for the first time, what Dumbledore put in his tea. Dumbledore sat at his desk, staring at the staircase for quite a while after Lucius left. . Draco looked his rooms over. They were in need of redecoration. He wished his mother were there to help him, but what was, was. She was much safer in France than she was here. Also, it kept her from giving away things best kept secret. Like, Harry being Lucius’s ward. Harry was going to go mental when he found out. If they could ever find him. Draco bit at his lip, a great deal more worried than he wanted to acknowledge. This was going to be a very difficult term. He was wondering how he was going to get through it. All his so called friends were sure to rag him for changing allegiances. He really wasn’t looking forward to it. Perhaps he could convince his father to keep their change over secret until summer. Or at least until they found Harry. He sighed and sat down to finish his home work. . Severus Snape rubbed his face and sighed. He’d just finished his lesson plans for the next term. Why he had to redo them, he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t like he changed his plans from year to year. In fact, he’d never changed them, but Dumbledore insisted that he turn in a new copy every term. This copy was the most illegible yet. His writing had suffered from the nerve damage. Potions were helping, repairing the damage slowly but surely. He could brew now without undue trouble, but when he was tired his hand still shook, and he still needed a cane as his left leg dragged a bit. He wasn’t looking forward to the second half. When the students found that their precious Golden Gryffindor was missing all hell was going to break loose. And Neville Longbottom would surely melt a cauldron the first week or he was sadly mistaken. Snape sighed softly, he was tired and Dumbledore wanted him out the first thing tomorrow. When he got his hands on Potter, the boy was going to regret disappearing like this. . Ron wrote to Hermione telling her everything he knew, she wrote back to him. Pigwidgeon was exhausted by the letter. Six pages double crossed, Ron grumbled at that. He didn’t know why she insisted in doing that, it wasn’t like she couldn’t afford the parchment. And having lines of her tight writing not only running left to right in the regular way but from top to bottom forcing him to turn the page on it’s side and then from corner to corner as well made it almost unreadable. He sighed heavily and began to puzzle out her message. Hermione was worried about Harry, as well she should be, but Ron couldn’t figure out what she expected him to do about it. He didn’t know the first thing about Muggle London, or anywhere else Muggle for that matter. He was just as worried as Hermione was but he was well aware that any attempt on his part to find him was sure to attract unwanted attention from Voldemort or the Ministry. He dad was sure to go straight to Fudge if they found Harry. And what would happen then made him cringe. He’d looked at this problem from every angle and he didn’t see it turning out well no matter what. Ron picked up his quill and wrote back to Hermione, telling her to keep her head and not go barging off in every direction. If she could figure out where they should look, he’d give it a try. Other wise they needed to trust Dumbledore to find Harry. Not that he liked it, it was the only thing he could think of to do. For now. . Harry smiled at the big man who stood just inside the door. He knew him from the dressing room. He was one of the handlers, the men who made sure that the subs didn’t get into more than they could handle. The guy, whose name was Johnson, was there to help him until he got used to working the door. After settling into his chair, Harry arranged his supplied in the small drawer under the table. It was no more than a pencil drawer but it was good enough to keep the bands, clips, cutter and plier like clip tool out of reach of the customers. He also had a stamp, stamp pad and marker. These were for stamping the hands of players who left, they would not be allowed to return to the club as players if they left. The marker was just there. Harry wasn’t sure what it was for. “I’m set up, I think. Do you see anything I should have done that I haven’t?” Harry glanced at Johnson, who shook his head. Harry leaned on his hand, elbow on the table. Johnson crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. Now all they had to do was wait for customers to start arriving. Since it was a week night, there wouldn’t be much traffic, or so Johnny said. That was why Harry was starting tonight, it would give him time to get accustomed to the routine without pressure of a lot of customers to deal with. Harry was glad for that, he wasn’t sure how he was going to tell someone they couldn’t come in, or that they had already had a drink so they couldn’t play. Johnson noticed his nervousness and shifted to look at fully at him. “What’s the matter, Kid, nervous? So Harry told Johnson his worries. He was a bit nervous about doing so, as it had always left him open to scorn and abuse before, but Frankie and Hal had both told him to trust Johnson. Johnson didn’t let him down. “You just politely tell them, if that doesn’t stick, get firm. If that doesn’t do it, I’ll handle it. See, that’s what the panic button is for. If you have trouble on the door, just push it. One of us will be here in two seconds. Be nice until it’s time not to be nice, then kill ‘em.” Johnson’s grin left Harry chuckling softly. “Ok, thanks, that makes me feel much better.” So they waited. It didn’t really take all that long, it was about 7:30pm when the first group came in the door. Harry waited a moment for the people to form a line then he just asked the first man in line, “Playing or Drinking?” The man waggled his eyebrows and smirked. “What do you think, gorgeous?” Harry flicked his eyes up and said the first thing that popped into his head. “I think I failed Divination. Playing or drinking?” The man deflated and announced. “Drinking.” Harry put a band around his wrist, crimped it on and motioned for him to enter the club. The rest of the line answered his question politely and the foyer was empty. Johnson poked at his hair and snickered. Harry just grinned at him. . Harry spent the rest of the night on the door. Johnson stayed with him until nearly midnight then went inside. Harry sighed softly, he was freezing. Johnson wore a bomber style jacket in satin and didn’t seem to feel the cold, but every time the door opened, Harry was hit with a blast of cold air. The door was always closed quickly but the constant draft was chilling. He shivered but stuck to his post. The last couple complained that the foyer was cold, got their bracelets and went inside. Frankie showed up about ten minutes later and locked the door. He turned to Harry and explained, “We’re open until 2 am but we lock the door and don’t let anyone in after midnight. Too many drunks want in this late. It saves us a ton of trouble. Come on inside.” just then the outer door opened and someone knocked on the inner door. Frankie just called, “Sorry, closed. Please come back tomorrow.” There were disappointed groans and some grumbling. Frankie felt sorry for the two younger men and opened the door to give them a coupon. They took it, thanked him politely and left. Frankie turned to Harry, shivering. “Damn, it’s cold. And you’re looking decidedly blue. Why didn’t you say something?” “I didn’t want to be a bother. The other guy didn’t seem cold and the guy who’s usually here didn’t say anything.” “Yeah, well. You’re never a bother if it’s a legitimate complaint, and Johnson and Carl are both polar bear club members. Come in. Let’s get you warmed up. And we’re going to have to figure out something else. It’s too cold in here for you to be sitting around in that.” Frankie motioned to Harry’s cold leather costume. “Leather’s sexy, but not very warm.” Harry followed Frankie into the club. He noticed the coat check window which was only half open. “Frankie, hold up a sec. Look...” Harry motioned to the window. “If you open that all the way, I could set up in there. It’d be warm and there’s plenty of room. What do you think?” Frankie nodded. “I don’t like having them in the club before they’re sorted but as cold as it is, it’ll do. Maybe we could put up a red velvet rope. You know, on those brass stands? That’d keep them in line until you could get them banded and bouncers could circulate through just enough to get them to stay in queue.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, that’d work. Man, now that I’m inside, I’m freezing.” Harry shivered violently. Frankie just turned him over to one of the men he called handlers, telling the man to take him to the recovery room and warm him up. “Hell, pet, you’re lips are blue. Come on. My name’s Alvin. I’ll take you into the recovery room and get you fixed up. I don’t know what those two are thinking, putting a skinny little thing like you on the door. In the cold like that.” Harry tucked his hands into his armpits and scurried after Alvin. “I don’t think they realized how cold it gets. When the doors closed, it’s nice, but open the door and a cold draft just whips through there. And Johnson and that other guy are members of the polar bear club ... um ... what’s that?” “Here, let me get you out of your kit.” Alvin stood Harry in the middle of the room and started unlocking things. “The polar bear club is a bunch of nutters who go swimming in the Thames in the middle of the winter. In America they even chop through the ice on lake something-or-other and jump in.” Alvin tossed Harry’s uniform into a small bag and wrapped him in a terry robe and settled him on a couch. “Here, your feet are like blocks of ice. Socks, where ... ah ... socks. Put them on while I get you some hot tea.” Alvin left and Harry pulled on the socks. He already felt better. Alvin came back with a heavy mug full of milky tea and a blanket. He tucked the blanket around Harry and handed him the tea. “So, better?” Harry nodded after sipping at his tea. “I’ve got to get back out on the floor. I’ve got a table to change out. I’ll be back in about ten or fifteen minutes.” Harry blinked for a second then wondered what the hell the man was talking about. He found out. The man was helped into the room and stripped of a load of chain and leather that made Harry blink. Then he was given a robe and socks just like Harry’s. He flopped down on a couch and sighed. “Man, I’m tired. I’m getting too old for this. All that kneeling hurts my knees too much. Even if it’s only in two hour shifts. I’m gonna have to speak to Frankie about changing jobs.” Harry watched as Alvin and another man settled on both sides of the fainting couch and started to rub the man’s legs. He sighed again in relief. “Um ... guys? A table? What’s going on? Frankie said something about me being a table.” “Oh, hi. Don’t let it scare you. I’m George, by the way.” Harry couldn’t help but think that the lean framed, black headed older man didn’t look much like a George to him. “The inner club features living furniture. Tables, lamp stands and foot stools and what not. All real people. It’s not bad. But my table days are numbered. I can’t take the kneeling anymore. Maybe I can be a plant stand instead.” Harry snickered into his tea, visions of the man standing with a vase of flowers on his head. “Maybe. I’m sure Frankie and Johnny will fix it. I’m warm now. Would you like some tea? I’ll be happy to get it if someone will tell me where it is.” Alvin pointed to a door. “Kitchen is just through there. He likes two sugars. The guys will show you where every thing is.” Harry went through the door and found that Mikey was in there. “George wants some tea. Where is everything?” Mikey kindly showed him where the tea was and how to turn on the kettle. Harry made the tea and added the sugar. He carried it in to George who accepted it with a sigh and a smile. Harry settled back on his couch to finish his now cold tea. He was amazed to see that men and boys were trickling into the room, brought in by big men in black trousers and t-shirts, some wearing bomber jackets like Johnson. Some of them were still wearing some very odd looking garments. Harry shuddered when he saw one man with his arms bound behind his back with some sort of leather gloves laced together. Instead of worrying about it, Harry got up and went to make tea. He put bags in several mugs and poured water on all of them. As the handlers came in to make tea for their charges they found it ready. All they had to do was put in the sugar and milk or lemon. When he was sure that everyone had tea, he fixed himself another cup and went back. All the couches were occupied now. Everyone had on robes and socks or slippers and a cup of tea in their hands. He settled on a foot stool and looked around. “Hey, it’s Harry’s first day. We ought to do something nice.” There was a general agreement and a chant of ‘Cake, cake, cake.” soon went up. There was a scuffle and a small box was produced. Everyone scurried around, finding their money. The box was soon filled with bills and change. “We’ll have to have it tomorrow, there’s no place open this late.” Harry blushed, “Look, there’s no need to go to all that trouble just for me.” He was hushed and laughed at. Frankie finally showed up to collect him, he was dressed and waiting a bit embarrassed by all the attention. “Well, how was your first night?” “Oh, it was good. But ... they took up a collection and the guys are getting me a cake. They don’t have to go to all that trouble just for me. Tell them.” Johnny’s laughter rang out in the deserted street. “Taking my life in my hands, that’d be. Not a chance. Get between that bunch of queens and a cake? No thank you.” Frankie laughed too and Harry relaxed. They made it home just after 2:30am and Harry headed straight for his room. He had to be up in just under five hours to go to the dojo. . Harry made it to the dojo in plenty of time only because Johnny literally dragged him out of the bed, handed him his duffel and shoved him out the door. Harry moaned and hurried off. He made it to the dojo with plenty of time to catch his breath, but no breakfast. His stomach grumbled but he settled into his place with good grace. He bowed to the chair and waited for Master Liu to come into the dojo. It didn’t take him long to show up. Harry got the feeling that he was watching from somewhere. “Good morning, Harry. How are you? I hear that you worked at the club last night.” Harry bowed to Master Liu and nodded. “Yes, I did. I was on the door.” “You didn’t get much sleep either, I take it.” Harry shrugged. “I planned on taking a nap this afternoon. But I’m good. I’m used to missing out on sleep. Home work and stuff, you know.” “Very well.” Master Liu motioned to Harry to stand up. Harry rose to his feet and waited to see what he was to do next. “I’m going to show you a short kata. A series of movements, kicks and punches. You’ll work on getting this right today.” Harry nodded then shivered as a funny feeling swept over him. He looked around, completely missing Dobby standing on a rafter. “Are you alright, Harry?” Master Liu looked at him with concern. “Yeah, just a cold chill. I got a bit too cold last night. Every time the door opened a huge draft came in. I’ll be fine.” Master Liu demonstrated the kata and then showed Harry every form, one at a time. Harry caught on quickly and Master Liu then demanded that he do the kata perfectly five times. Harry groaned silently and started. He worked diligently and managed his five perfect run throughs, finally. It felt like he’d been working for hours to get his kata right. But a look at the clock on the dojo wall showed that he’d only been working for a little over an hour. Master Liu congratulated him on perfecting his kata so quickly and announced that they’d have tea and rice before Harry had to start his chores. Harry bowed to Master Liu and thanked him for his kindness. . “Well, Harry. I’m very proud of you. You’re a very quick learner and diligent in your exercises.” The master handed Harry a cup of tea and a bowl filled with rice sprinkled with something green. “Thank you, but it was mostly due to your teaching.” Harry shifted uncomfortably at the praise. He’d had so little in his life that he was never sure how to react. “For results like this, a good teacher needs a good student.” The master gave Harry a sharp look. “You’re not used to being praised, are you. A humble man accepts praise with thanks. A fool denies his own worth.” Harry sipped at the tea and realized that it wasn’t tea but a tisane, or herbal mixture. “This is good. What’s in it?” “Licorice, Kings foil, Willow bark, King Solomon’s Seal and a few other things. Why?” Harry sipped again. “I’m interested. Herbology is interesting. I’ve just never had time for it until now. If it’s a secret or I’m annoying you, just tell me.” Master Liu smiled over his own cup. “You’re not annoying and it’s no secret. I’m just used to students ... I believe the phrase is ... sucking up by pretending to be interested. I apologize.” Harry nearly spit his tea. No one ever apologized to him, ever. “Oh, no, sir ... I mean, Sensei, I’m really interested. When I finish my chores, can I come into the shop and help you?” “Certainly. I’ll be happy to have you. Now, finish your rice then you better start on your chores. Although you finished your class so quickly that you have plenty of time.” “Ok. I’ll try to hurry.” Harry got his supplies from the closet and headed for the showers they needed cleaning today. He sighed when he saw the state they were in. There’d been a competition last night and the showers were a mess. There were soggy bars of soap on the floor and soaked towels everywhere. He knew he wasn’t supposed to pick up after the students but he had to clean the room and couldn’t do that with the mess all over the floor. He decided quickly that he’d pick it all up, clean and just tell Master Liu. He started to pick up the towels when he heard a pop. “Dobby, hi. How are you?” “Dobby is fine. What is Master Harry Potter, sir doing?” “Chores. This is how I’m paying for my lessons, remember?” “Dobby is not stupid, nor is he forgetful. Dobby is wanting to know why Harry Potter, Sir is not using cleaning charms.” Harry rubbed at his scar, which was itching. “Dobby, you’re a free house elf. Don’t you think you could call me Harry? It’s really annoying ... never mind. And I’m not using magic, I don’t care. I’m afraid that the Ministry can track my wand. Sorry, I’m tired and a bit cranky.” Dobby looked Harry over. He knew that Harry found his excessive politeness a burden. “Dobby will call Harry Potter, Harry if it makes you happy. And Dobby will teach Harry cleaning charms that house elves use. The Ministry, nasty mans that they are, do not track this magic. So, will Harry learn?” Harry gazed at the mess, he was tired and he wanted to learn about the tea. “Ok. Show me.” Dobby pointed his finger at a towel and twirled it muttering something nonsensical. “There.” The towel rose into the air and flew into the hamper. Harry had Dobby repeat the words for him several times until he got the intonation and pacing right. Then he tried the same motions and spell. The towel he pointed at flew up into the air and flew around the room flapping wildly. Dobby snickered and peered at Harry, rolling his eyes slightly. “Not quite so much magic, please, sir. Intent is enough. Try again.” Harry did so and was soon getting the towels to fly into the hamper like birds. “That was brilliant. And the soap, I can do the soaked bars without having to touch them. Slimy things. Ugh!” Dobby nodded. “Yes, and when Harry, sir is done. Dobby will teach him how to clean. Scorgify is good, but Dobby knows spells and charms that is better. Specifically made for the task. This is good.” Harry grinned at Dobby. “Thanks. This is brilliant. I did some magic at Frankie and Johnny’s but I’ll admit that it made me really uncomfortable. I wish I knew ... but ... never mind.” Dobby held out his hand. “Will Harry Potter ... sorry. Harry trust Dobby with his wand for a moment?” Harry handed over his wand with only a slight hesitation. “Sure. Here. What are you going to do?” Dobby just fingered the wand carefully for a moment. “Ah! Here. Feel just here. Harry can tell where the Ministry has put it’s ... leash. See?” Harry laid his hand over Dobby’s and tried to sense whatever the elf was feeling. “Yes! There’s ... like a string feeling thing. Right there. I wonder what would happen if I broke it?” Dobby shrugged. “The Ministry would know. But if you feel just like this. See? Then you can tell if the nasty snitching spell is going to tell on you.” Harry nodded. “Yeah, I see. So I can start a spell and see if it’s going to activate the spy. If it is all I have to do is stop the spell before it triggers anything. Thanks, Dobby, that makes me feel much better.” Dobby taught Harry spells to clean tile, and chrome and porcelain. Harry quickly learned them all. He also tried the wanded spells, approved by Dobby, that he’d learned from the book Hermione had given him. They worked too. And none of them triggered the Ministry’s spy spell. “Great. I’m all done. Thanks so much, Dobby. Now I can go into the shop and learn about the herbs.” Dobby nodded solemnly. “This is good. Harry Potter needs to learn everything he can. Dobby is going back to Hogwarts now. Good-bye.” he snapped his fingers and popped out. Harry headed for the apothecary shop and Master Liu’s interesting herbs. . Draco scowled in dissatisfaction, this was going to be a very hard second half. He had to balance his activities in Slytherin with, frankly, sucking up to Granger and Weasley. Neville Longbottom and Seamus Finnigan as well. Although Longbottom wasn’t actually that bad. It was going to be difficult to keep from sneering at Weasley and Granger, it was an ingrained habit, Longbottom and Finnigan on the other hand, he’d mostly ignored so it would be easier to ingratiate himself with them. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice from the door said, “That’s an impressive scowl. What’s wrong, my dragon?” “I’m not looking forward to going back to school. The flap over Harry being missing is going to make the whole place mental. And sucking up to Gryffindor is going to be hard. I’ll just have to pretend like mad, I suppose.” “Pretend, my dragon?” Lucius put a hand on Draco’s shoulder and squeezed. “To be a good person. I’m not, you know. I’m as hard and cold as you are. We’re in it deep with no way out except to ... grovel. Discreetly, of course.” “I see. Yes, we must grovel ... most discreetly but still. My dragon, be careful what you pretend to be, sooner or later you will become that thing. Perhaps if we pretend hard enough?” He let the thought hang between them. “You’re right, father. I’ll pretend very hard. Maybe it’ll get easier as I grovel along. I hope.” Lucius drew his son gently into a hug, kissing the top of his head. . Harry opened the kitchen cabinets and rummaged to find something to fix for lunch. “Hey, Harry, what are you doing?” “Looking for lunch fixings. What do you want me to fix?” Frankie just shrugged. “Whatever you want. I’m not really hungry, I have a match tonight so I need to eat light.” “A match? What kind of match?” Frankie handed Harry a can of tuna. “Tuna salad would be good. There’s a match at the dojo. I’m competing and doing a demonstration as part of the requirements for my next belt.” Harry took the can and started looking in the refrigerator for the rest of the things he would need to make the salad. “Would you open the tin for me?” He dug around some more. “Is there another tin? I don’t think one is going to be enough. Um ... if I’m eating, that is.” Frankie drew in a sharp breath. “What do you mean, ‘if I’m eating’? Pet, if we eat, you eat. I’ve noticed that you always ask before you eat anything. I thought it was just politeness. A way to let us know that you’re eating something so we could put it on the shopping list. Now I’m thinking you’ve actually had to ... do without?” Harry shrugged. “Yeah, the Dursley’s always said that I ate them out of house and home. But ... I never got enough to eat there. At school, I got plenty, but they ... well, I went hungry a lot. It doesn’t matter.” Frankie slapped a hand down on the counter, making Harry flinch. “Don’t flinch. No one’s going to hit you here. I won’t let them. And you eat anything you want, when ever you want. All we ask is that, if you take the last of something, you tell us so we can put it on the list. Ok? Understand?” Harry nodded, wide eyed at Frankie’s fury. “Ok, sure. Um ... open tin? Ok?” Frankie opened the tin, grumbling about the Dursleys under his breath. Harry mixed the tuna and other ingredients then eyed the bowl. “There’s not enough. I can do without, I’m used to it.” “You will not. Boil four eggs and chop them up. We’ll add them to the salad at the last minute so they don’t break up too much. A little lettuce and tomato and we’ve got it made.” Harry finally got into the spirit of things. “Well, there’s a bag of crisps here. We could put a handful on the plate. That’d add a bit more. And ... oh, here’s some pudding. Dessert. Looks like there’s going to be plenty after all.” “Great. I’ll set up the tea.” They bustled around the kitchen, boiling the eggs, preparing the lettuce and tomatoes, and setting up the tea pot. They were just done when Johnny came home. “I’m home. Where’s the food?” Frankie snorted and stage whispered to Harry. “And now you know why I love him so.” Harry just started chopping the eggs. “It’ll be ready in five minutes. Wash your hands.” Johnny cracked up at that and headed for the wash room, still laughing. Frankie just set the kettle on. . They ate and Harry offered to clean up the kitchen while Frankie and Johnny had some time together. He grinned as they hurried into the living room to settle on the couch to watch TV. When he finished, he told them he was going to take a nap as he was a bit short of sleep from getting home so late and up so early. All he got was an absent ‘sure thing.’ from Johnny as they were both absorbed in the news. Harry kicked off his shoes and took off his belt. He flopped down on the bed and was asleep within moments. He woke a bit, once, when he sensed someone in the room. But it was only Frankie, putting an afghan over him. He murmured ‘thanks’ and fell back to sleep. When he woke again, Johnny was tapping at his door. “Come on. If you get up right now, you’ll have time for a shower before we have to go to the dojo.” Harry scrambled out of bed and headed for the shower. It didn’t take him long to shower, wash his hair and dry off. But when he started to get dressed, he had a small problem. The salve Dobby had brought had helped him heal. His workouts at the dojo had hurt but Harry hadn’t thought to say so. He was so used to hurting one way or another that it hadn’t occurred to him that anyone would care. But now he had a problem, the scabs were starting to peel off and his t-shirt was catching on one. It pulled uncomfortably. “Johnny? Can you come in here for a moment?” Harry just stood in the middle of the room with his shirt dangling from his hand. Both Frankie and Johnny had said that all he had to do was ask. So he was going to ask. “Sure, Harry, what’s up?” Johnny stuck his head in the door. “Oh, do you need to have some salve? I thought you were healed enough that you didn’t need it anymore. At least that’s what you said.” “Yeah, I’m almost healed. I don’t need salve any more, but the scabs are starting to peel off and my shirt is catching on them. Can you do something about it?” Johnny walked into the room, still looking at Harry’s back. “Well, sure. Sit down on your chair, straddle. I’ll just ...” Johnny gently poked at Harry’s scabs. “Stay right there. I’ll have to trim some of them a bit. I’ll cut off the loose parts, that’ll keep them from catching on your shirt. I’ll help you put on your shirt too. Sit still.” Harry obediently sat still as Johnny trimmed away the loose parts of the scabs. He raised his arms over his head on command and let Johnny help him on with his shirt. “Thanks. That’s great. I feel lots better.” Johnny finally made some connections and he didn’t like it much. “Harry! You’ve been learning to fall. Dammit! How’d your back take that?” “Kinda hurt. But I’m sure Master Liu wouldn’t have asked me to do it if it was bad for me.” “Idiot boy.” Johnny gave Harry an exasperated look. “If something is hurting you, you have to tell us. And if you’re scared at the club, you tell someone. You understand me?” Johnny gave the arm he was gripping a little shake for emphasis. “I mean it.” Harry gazed at Johnny, startled. “Oh, sure! I mean, I will. You really mean it, really. You’re not just saying that.” “No, I’m not just saying that. Frankie will rip us both a new one. You tell, you hear?” Harry nodded. “I do. Thanks. I’m not ... I, well. Thanks.” Harry glanced at the small clock on his bedside table. “Shit! We better get going.” Frankie was waiting impatiently by the door, in fact, he was just getting ready to call them when they hurried out of the hall way. “Sorry, love. Had to take care of Harry’s back. The scabs are peeling. Let’s go.” “Peeling? Scabs? Dammit! I’m such an idiot. I forgot that his back is still healing. He doesn’t say anything about his hurts.” Frankie turned to Harry. “Harry, I’m so sorry. You should have said something. Did you tell Master Liu? You were doing falls, I’m sure it must have hurt.” Harry held up a hand. “Don’t upset yourself before a match. I’m fine. I’m used to it. Besides, the salve has some anesthetic in it. Stop fussing. Johnny already reamed me. We better hurry, we’re going to be late if we don’t.” So the subject of Harry’s back was dropped, to his satisfaction. But Johnny made a mental note to keep a better eye on Harry. . They got to the dojo just in time. Frankie disappeared into the back, headed for the locker room. Harry looked around the central room, the dojo proper, and smiled in satisfaction. His hard work cleaning showed in every aspect of the room. The floor gleamed, the pillars were polished and even the rafters were clean. Johnny nudged Harry’s arm. “Good job. Place is spotless. Let’s get a seat. I want right down in front.” Harry led the way to a good seat and let Johnny get settled before he sat down himself. He had to smile a bit. The front three rows were traditional Japanese seating of small, thin, square cushions called Zabuton with a round cushion on top. Harry knelt on his zabuton and tucked the zafu under his buttocks. He sighed then grinned as Johnny groaned and squirmed. “You ok?” Johnny grimaced. “Kneel forward and tuck the zafu more to the front, it’ll keep your knees from binding. Or you could break tradition and sit cross legged.” “I know, I’d be fine if I didn’t have to use a zafu. I’m more comfortable without. But I don’t want to embarrass Frankie.” Harry shook his head. “The zafu is for people who aren’t used to kneeling for a long time. Or someone who’s meditating and needs to relax more. Just push it to the side if you don’t want it.” Johnny shoved the zafu aside and sighed in relief as his knees quit protesting. “That’s better.” Just as they finished getting settled a small gong sounded. Harry glanced at Johnny, who pointed to the door at one side of the ‘throne’ where Master Liu was seated. Harry sighed, he was going to have to get used to thinking of him as Liu-Sefu, he’d found out from overhearing some students talking that he preferred that to Sensei. “What’s that for?” Harry smiled at Johnny. “Mr. Liu prefers to be called Sefu and I keep forgetting. Although he did say I could call him sensei.” “As long as you’re respectful, I don’t think he really cares. He’s earned either title a hundred times over. Quiet, they’re beginning.” Harry settled down to watch the demonstrations. He wondered if he’d ever get to try out for a belt of his own. They quieted themselves and watched as the demonstrations went from the youngest, trying out for their yellow belts to the older students, trying out for brown belts. Harry paid careful attention to all of them but wondered when Frankie would demonstrate. Harry sighed and stood up to stretch his legs a bit, he’d been kneeling for almost three hours and it was getting to him a bit. The current break was more than welcome. “Johnny, when is Frankie going to demonstrate? It’s getting late.” “Soon, probably next. He’s the only black belt I know of that’s going for his next dan. I’ll admit that my legs are aching.” They both walked around a bit, shaking out the cramps. When the signal sounded for the next demonstration, they hurried to settle back on their zabuton. . Frankie walked out of the same door the students had come from. He didn’t look much like the Frankie Harry was familiar with, all his makeup was washed off, making him look older. His hair was straight, slicked back from his forehead and tied at the nape of his neck. He walked confidently to the area in front of Liu-sefu and bowed. Next he announced in a firm tone of voice, “Breaking.” then put on a demonstration of breaking that made Harry’s eyes pop. He hadn’t realized that Frankie could break a sweat, much less a two by four. But he did, as well as a cinder block and several other things. They all had to wait while some senior students cleaned the floor and put the mats, which had been removed during the break, back down. After they were through Frankie said, “Multiple combatants.” Several of the senior students, who were standing nearby, attacked him. He fought them all off, scoring several ‘mortal’ contacts. Harry just sat, trying very hard to keep his jaw from hitting the floor. Finally Frankie announced, “Weapons; bo staff, Kama, fan.” Frankie accepted the bo staff from the judge examined the five foot length of bamboo himself then began his exercise. The staff flashed, stabbed and slashed. Frankie put on a display of foot work that made Harry gasp. After several minutes he handed the bo staff off and took the kama, weapons that and evolved from the small scythe’s used to harvest rice. With one in each hand, Frankie danced over the mats, slashing and whirling the kama with deadly accuracy. His last weapon made Harry blink and Johnny laugh. “Fan.” Frankie handed the kama to the judge and took two simple looking fans from him. The fans were simple solid colored silk. But in Frankie’s hands they were deadly weapons. The open fans slashed through the air like knives and closed they became short bo, stabbing out with sharp pokes. The demonstration lasted twenty minutes which left Frankie sweating lightly. Frankie bowed to Liu-sefu and the judge then left by the same door he’d come in by. Harry was flabbergasted. “Johnny, that was incredible. He’s so good. I never thought ... he’s ... brilliant.” Johnny laughed softly. “Just because he’s a bit on the girly side, doesn’t make him soft or weak. Don’t forget that we both lived on the streets ourselves. For several years in Frankie’s case. I like my manicures and he likes his curls and eye makeup. But if you push us too far, you’ll find that we both bite.” Harry sorted through his feelings for a moment, looking a bit wide eyed. “Oh, well, I’ll remember not to push you. Or him. Ok?” Harry gave Johnny a doubtful look, had he pushed too hard already? Did they want him to leave but were too polite to tell him so? Johnny proved to be somewhat of a mind reader. “Oh, pet, don’t get that look on your face. You haven’t pushed too hard. We don’t want you to leave. You’re a good kid and people haven’t told you that enough. You’re welcome until you want to leave. Now ... we better go hug Frankie. He’ll be worrying about passing that demo. Come on.” So they went to hug Frankie.

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