"Oh," Van Der Mijer looked at him sympathetically, "saw too much and now you want to get away from it all?"
"I've never had a vacation," Harry seemed to stare at nothing, "all my life I've never had a chance to relax; I just want a chance to do the things I never had a chance to do, I think I deserve that much."
"I agree Mr. Black," she watched him jump, "and I hope that the remainder of your vacation is a bit quieter then today has been."
"Thank you," Harry allowed his eyes to refocus, "let's go back to the incident, do you have any more questions for me?"
"A few," the woman checked her notebook, "speaking as one professional to another, how would you suggest we deal with any future Death Eater activity in Holland?"
"I would suggest that you look very closely at the methods you have for keeping your prisons secure," Harry took a sip from his drink. "For example, I believe that one of the prime reasons for mass escape from the British Ministry's prison on Azkaban Island was the fact that they gave too much trust to the Dementors."
"I see," Staatstovenaar Van Der Mijer made several notes, "any dueling advice?"
"What many Law Enforcement Professionals seem to forget is that they are much better trained then most Death Eaters, the problem is that the Death Munchers and Moldy shorts have such fearsome reputations that people forget just how incompetent they are." Harry gave a sad smile, "but never forget that they are dangerous, and never let down your guard because you think that they're helpless, a very good friend of mine almost died because she let her guard down around a 'helpless' Death Eater."
"Thank you, anything else that you'd be willing to share?"
"One more thing," Harry put down his fork and fixed the woman with an intense look, "always take the fight seriously, never for a moment let your guard slip. I . . . I lost a very good friend because he forgot that."
"Thanks for sharing that," she smiled at the man across the table, "I'll be sure to keep those lessons in mind."
"Good," Harry nodded sadly, "nothing would please me more then the thought that someone might learn something from my experiences. It allows me to pretend that some good came with the bad."
Staatstovenaar Van Der Mijer paused for a moment unsure of how to reply to such a statement. "What are your plans for the remainder of your vacation Mr. Black?"
"Well," Harry forced himself to smile. "I was planning on visiting some of the museums around here and maybe visiting some of Holland's famous Tulip fields, after that I'll drift somewhere else."
"Would you mind leaving contact information?" The Staatstovenaar asked quickly, "I believe that the head of Magical Law Enforcement would like to meet with you in the future."
"Alright," Harry wrote his hotel and room number on a napkin, "Here is where I'll be staying while I'm in Holland, I have no idea where I'll be after that."
"Thank you, I'm sure that will be fine," she stood. "Please allow me to pay your bill; it's the least my department can do for the assistance that you provided us today."
"Thank you," Harry said and stood up, "if you need to speak with me again today, I'll be visiting museums for the remainder of the day and I'll be back in my hotel room around seven or eight o'clock tonight."
"Thank you for your time Mr. Black," the Staatstovenaar held out her hand, "we will be in touch with you in the near future."
"Anytime Staatstovenaar Van Der Mijer," Harry took her hand, "I am always happy to help in any way that I can."
Harry and Van Der Mijer said their goodbyes and Harry was off on his next adventure, to build himself a larger cache of memories to cherish.
It was a short trip to the Rembrandt House Museum on Jodenbreestraat and Harry's excitement grew with every step.
While he didn't like to admit it, Harry had always had a love of art; it had seemed to him the only profession that would benefit from the amount of trauma that he had experienced in his young life.
Art had always been one of the few joys that Harry had in his life and when he was younger and locked in his cupboard, he used to calm himself by closing his eyes and imagining the wonder that artists could create using only their imaginations and a bit of paint.
Harry's heart seemed to want to burst from his chest as he entered the house that had once belonged to one of the greatest artists the world has seen.
Harry forced himself to hurry as he walked through the museum and throughout his visit, Harry marveled at the sheer diversity of the items he found.
Harry visited over a dozen museums that day and he saw hundreds of works from Rembrandt to Van Gough, and he felt a profound sense of regret that in all likelihood his conflict with Voldemort would prevent a longer visit in the future.
Walking through the front doors of his hotel, Harry mentally compared the paintings at Hogwarts with the masterpieces that he had seen earlier that day, Harry came to a realization, "amateurs," he muttered to himself. In comparison to what he had been privileged to see in Amsterdams' museums, many of the works so celebrated in the Wizarding world were nothing more than crude drawings with a bit of magic.
The two Staatstovenaar that had spent the day discreetly following the enigmatic Mr. Black nearly had heart attacks when their long range microphones picked up the odd wizard's comment.
Sharing a look of surprise mingled with respect, the two Law Enforcement Officers Apparated to their offices to give their reports.
Upon their appearance at the office, they were greeted by a large number of curious people and one supervisor who was more than a little eager to learn more about the mysterious Mr. Black.
"Peters, Jansen, give me a quick report on how the surveillance on Mr. Black went."
"What do you want to know first Wieland?" Staatstovenaar Mark Peters asked slowly.
"How did he spend his day?"
"Mr. Black spent the day visiting several art museums around the city," Staatstovenaar Peters replied quickly.
"Did Mr. Black notice that he was being followed?"
"We had no indication that he knew that he was being followed until the end of the day," The Staatstovenaar paused as he tried to collect his thoughts.
"What happened Mark?" The older officer prompted using his colleague's first name.
"At the end of the day, Mr. Black shook his head, smirked, and muttered the word 'amateurs' under his breath," the man licked his lips. "I'm not sure if we were meant to hear it but based on our speculation of Mr. Black's past and capabilities, we believe that he was aware of the fact that he was under surveillance."
"Was that the only indication you received?"
"The only one we're sure of," Jansen entered the conversation. "But several times during the day we looked in the shop windows, at the time we believed that he was looking at the items on display but now I'm not so sure . . ."
"What are you thinking?" Wieland prompted.
"I think that he may have been watching us in the reflections on the windows, and I also think that we should examine the possibility that he was aware of our presence the entire time."
"Don't worry about it," Staatstovenaar Wieland rubbed his eyes. "I know that there is no way that a normal suspect would have noticed either of you in a normal surveillance operation, we knew that he was good and now we have an idea of just how good."
"Still, it bothers me that he was able to spot us and that we never even noticed that he was watching us," Jansen bit his lower lip.
"There is no shame in being beaten by the best," Wieland consoled his two officers, "and there's no shame in being spotted by someone as good as this Black fellow."
Harry was in a good mood as he awoke early the next morning, his visits to the art museum providing his subconscious with material to give him dreams that were far better then his usual nightmares.
Dressing quickly, Harry left the hotel and walked through the maze of streets that guarded the magical section of Kalverstraat.
Walking down the street, Harry's senses were assaulted by a series of strange smells and odd sights.
Giving up his plan of finding anything without directions, he walked into the nearest shop intent on finding someone willing to give him instruction on how to navigate this bustling section of Magical Holland.
"Can I help you?" one of the shop attendants asked when she noticed Harry walk in.
"Yes," Harry nodded gratefully, "I was hoping you could tell me where I could find some transportation to the tulip fields in the north of the country and back?"
"Two doors up, shop by the name of 'Floral Tours' tell the man behind the counter what you want and he'll set you up with a tour or Portkey depending on what you require," the woman smiled. "While you're here, could I interest you in a camera? Might be nice to have something to take a few pictures with if you plan to go sightseeing."
"Sure," Harry nodded, reasoning that it would be polite to buy something after all the help that he had received; besides, it wasn't like he couldn't afford it. "What do you recommend I should get?"
"That would all depend on what you plan to do with it, we have models ranging from ten Guldens on up." She smiled sweetly, "why don't you describe what your needs are and I'll tell you what cameras would meet them or if you prefer you could tell me what amount you would like to spend and I'll show you what falls within your price range."
"Thank you," Harry concentrated for a bit. "I guess that I need a camera that is very durable, I tend to get into trouble and I would hate to have to keep replacing my camera."
"Anything else?"
"Reliable," Harry nodded, "and small, I don't want something that will take up a lot of space, it would be nice if it would develop its own film or not need film also."
"I think I have just the camera for you," the woman smiled. "But I am afraid that it's a bit expensive," she added with a frown.
"Tell me about it."
"Let me show it to you while I tell you some of its features," she pulled one of the cameras off the shelf, "as you can see, it's small, only three by four inches and it is durable able to function in any environment from the top of a mountain to the bottom of the sea."
"Wow," Harry was impressed, "what else?"
"It has an internal transfiguration feature that turns any raw material entered into the feeding compartment into usable film and another feature that develops the film into pictures which it prints through this slot in the side."
"What about reliability?"
"It has a self repair feature to take care of physical damage and a three hundred year warranty to take care of any magical problems."
"I'll take it," Harry pulled out his wallet and began removing currency, "thank you."
"My pleasure sir," the sales girl smiled at him one last time, "enjoy your trip and I hope that your camera serves you well."
"I will," Harry nodded as he walked out the door.
It only took him a few minutes to find the shop that the girl in the other store had mentioned, and when he stepped inside he was amazed at the number and quality of the floral arrangements on display.
"Hello?" He called into the seemingly empty store, "is there anyone here?"
"Yes?" A confused looking man popped out from behind the counter, "what can I do for you?"
"I was hoping to visit the tulip fields," Harry answered, "and I was told that you could help me with transportation."
"Yes of course," the odd man nodded, "did you need a tour guide?"
"No, I just wanted to spend a few hours looking at them on my own and I was hoping to get a Portkey to get me there and one to take me back."
"One moment," the man disappeared behind the counter again, "here we are." He said appearing with two odd looking tulip shaped figurines, "just hold the green one and say 'Kalverstraat' when you wish to return and hold the red one and say 'Tulip' when you wish to leave."
"Thank you," Harry paid the man and stepped outside the shop, "Tulip."
Harry felt the tell tale pull on his navel and nearly stumbled as he arrived on a hill with a breathtaking view of several tulip fields.
Taking several pictures of the sight, Harry supposed that other people would think it odd that a boy of his age would spend his time visiting museums and taking pictures of flowers but it was his belief that after seeing so much ugliness in his life, he was entitled to a bit of beauty.
Besides, it wasn't like he was going to be able to hold off on such things until he was older like the others of his generation, not with his destiny of facing the Dark Lord anyway.
He spent an indeterminate amount of time just standing on the hill staring at the loveliness before him before he decided to leave his position and get a closer look at the flowers.
Harry spent several minutes walking beside the fields until a flicker of movement drew his attention, after a moment of close examination he relaxed when he found the source of the movement; an odd sort of creature frolicking inside one of the Tulips.
Smiling in amusement at the strange creature's antics, he took several pictures of it with his new camera.
Taking one last look around and sighing with regret he activated his second Portkey and returned to Amsterdam.
"Good evening Mr. Black," two men holding badges greeted Harry on his return.
"Hello," Harry replied cautiously, "what can I do for you gentlemen tonight?"
"The head of Magical Law Enforcement has requested that you meet with her," one of the men answered.
"When?"
"Now if possible," the man quickly replied, "but if that is inconvenient to you then I suppose that we could reschedule."
"Now would be fine," Harry nodded, "let's go."
One of the two men nodded and held out his badge, "my badge has been spelled as a Portkey to the Department; so if you would just touch it then we can be going."
"Alright," Harry activated the Portkey by putting his hand on the badge.
"Welcome Mr. Black," a formidable woman wearing what Harry recognized to be a Staatstovenaar uniform greeted him on his arrival. "I am Hooft Van De Staatstovenaar, Sanne Vermeer and I am pleased that you accepted my invitation."
"It seemed like the polite thing to do," Harry nodded. "What was it you wanted to speak with me about?"
"I have looked over the reports of your fight with the Death Eaters and I would like to take the opportunity to thank you on behalf of my country for your intervention." The woman smiled, "and the lives that you undoubtedly saved by neutralizing the Death Eaters before they had a chance to harm any innocents."
"No thanks are necessary," Harry tried to wave it off. "I just did what anybody would have done if they had the ability."
"I disagree, and more importantly the Minister disagrees," Vermeer's voice took on a firmer tone. "So in recognition of the great service that you have given to our country and the lives that you have saved, it is my great pleasure to induct you into the Orde Van De Leeuw.
"Thank you," Harry was stunned, "I've never, I, Thank you."
"I understand," Vermeer smiled at him as she presented him with the medal, "men like you don't do it for the thanks."
"I never expected this when I confronted those Death Eaters," Harry motioned to the medal, "I just thought that they were after me and that it would be better to attack then to run away."
"But even had you known that they were not after you, would you have run or would you have leapt to the defense of innocent lives?" The chief of Magical Law Enforcement questioned gently.
"I would have protected them, but like I said that was nothing special," Harry argued. "Anyone would have done the same."
"I see that I'm not going to persuade you otherwise," Vermeer laughed, "so I'll change the subject, what are your plans now?"
"I was thinking about going to Paris," Harry shrugged, "always wanted to see the Eiffel Tower, after that I guess I'll go where the wind takes me."
"Excellent, thank you for sharing your travel plans with me." The Hooft Van De Staatstovenaar nodded in satisfaction, "now if you will excuse me I have a meeting to go to and I'm sure that you would like to return to your hotel."
"Then good night Hooft Van De Staatstovenaar Sanne Vermeer," Harry gave a sad smile, "may your dreams be better than mine."
"Good night Mr. Black," the woman replied sadly, "and thank you once again for the lives that you saved."