"Well?" Henchgirl asked with a worried look on her face, "how is he?"
"He fell asleep right after he finished the second bottle." The Professor sat down next to his assistant, "I'm worried about him."
"I am too," Henchgirl nodded. "What caused all this?"
"He saw some terrible things today," the Professor shook his head. "Very terrible things."
"What?"
"I can't tell you Henchgirl," the Professor had a sad look on his face. "I can't bring myself to say it."
"I understand," Henchgirl nodded.
"He started talking after he finished the first bottle," the Professor paused. "He told me some rather shocking things."
"What kind of things?"
"Some rather shocking things," the Professor held up his hand. "Before I tell you, I want you to remember that he's our friend and we agreed to stand by him."
"I know Professor," Henchgirl was starting to get worried. "What could he have told you that would cause you to worry that I would forget?"
"Well," the Professor began. "He told me . . ."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry awoke late the next morning with a pounding headache. "Oh god, where am I?"
"You're in our hanger," the Professor replied loudly. "Would you like a tour?"
"I'd like something to kill this hangover," Harry hissed out. "Or something to kill myself, at the moment I don't care which one I get."
"I'll have Henchgirl whip something up," the Professor nodded. "I'll be right back."
Harry spent several more minutes wallowing in agony before the Professor returned, "did you get it?"
"Yup," the Professor nodded proudly. "One sip of this would kill a herd of elephants."
"You do know I was being sarcastic about the whole killing myself thing right?" Harry asked without opening his eyes.
"Yes," the Professor nodded nervously. "Of course I did, I'll be right back with the potion. I just need to . . . take it out of the room for a few minutes before I give it to you."
"Fine," Harry sighed. "Why am I cursed with such a life?"
"Here you are," the Professor returned with another strange looking potion. "One sip of this will kill your headache."
"Thank you," Harry downed the potion. "Why doesn't it taste like the bottom of a men's room floor?"
"I asked Henchgirl about that once," the Professor smiled. "She said that she could make them taste terrible if I wanted, but that it would add several steps and have no purpose other than to make my life more miserable."
"Oh," Harry's eyes narrowed as he contemplated all the vile concoctions that Madame Pomfrey had given him over the years. "Shall we take a look at this Zeppelin of yours?"
"Let's," the Professor agreed eagerly. "Walk this way."
"Sure," Harry shrugged and began following the Professor.
"There she is," the Professor nodded proudly. "Two hundred meters long and forty two meters in diameter. It is capable of speeds of up to two hundred Kiloliters per hour and we believe that the charms will remain stable for up to ninety two years without maintenance."
"And I still say that a blimp would have been a better choice," Henchgirl entered the conversation. "There are several advantages of a non or semi rigid frame over a rigid frame."
"Silence," the Professor glared up at his assistant. "A non rigid frame would not have provided the proper platform for our research."
"Admit it," Henchgirl glared down at the Professor. "You just wanted to show off your 'great engineering skills' by building the large framework, no thoughts about the fact that one of the other designs would have been better."
"How dare you question . . ."
"Wow," Harry interrupted, "whatever it is, it's great. What did you fill it with?"
"Nothing," the Professor turned away from the glaring Henchgirl. "It's more efficient that way."
"What do you mean nothing?" Harry gave his two friends a strange look, "how can you fill it with nothing?"
"It's all about volume," the Professor began to lecture. "If it weighs less than the material it displaces then it floats, if it weighs more it sinks, and if it weighs the same amount then it has neutral buoyancy."
"But how can you . . ." Harry stopped for a moment to think, "never mind I don't want to know how you do it. How do you go up and down?"
"To go down we pump air from the surrounding atmosphere into our tanks, to go up we pump the air out and to get neutral buoyancy we either pump air in or out depending on if we are descending or ascending."
"Like a submarine?" Harry asked cautiously.
"A what?" The Professor asked.
"It's a boat that goes under water," Harry answered. "I think it works the same way that your airship does."
"Henchgirl, make a note of it."
"How do you prevent collisions with other aircraft?"
"Collisions? Other aircraft?" The Professor looked nervous.
"You do know that the sky's are filled with aircraft don't you?"
"But my research indicated that the Muggles have mostly given up using airships?" The Professor looked confused, "if that's so then what are they using?"
"Planes, helicopters, all kinds of things." Harry shrugged.
"Are they really so widespread?" The Professor was intrigued, "my sources indicated that they were only used by militaries and by some of the more wealthy family's?"
"Things have changed," Harry sighed. "Any other questions?"
"No," the Professor shook his head. "Thank you again Mr. Black, you've prevented what could have been a terrible accident by informing us of these other aircraft."
"Happy to help," Harry smiled. "What are you using to power the propellers?"
"Henchgirl and I constructed several Tesla Disk Turbines to provide the necessary power," the Professor smiled. "We were going to use Stirling engines, but the Tesla design looked more interesting."
"That's good, I guess." Harry replied, making a mental note to find out more about engineering, "What are you going to do about a crew?"
"So long as we don't try anything too ambitious, Henchgirl and I are all the crew that this craft needs." the Professor smiled, "did you have any more ideas for items that we could build you?"
"I don't know," Harry shrugged. "Might be a good idea to have a backup wand of some sort, one that could be easily concealed as something else or something. I'd also like to get some sort of invisibility or concealment device that can't be seen through like an invisibility cloak can."
"Invisibility cloaks can be seen through?" The Professor's eyebrows shot up, "I didn't know that, who can do it?"
"I know for a fact that Alaster Moody, and Albus Dumbledore can," Harry scratched his chin. "Not sure how Dumbledore does it, but Moody has a magical spinning eye."
"Fascinating," the Professor was lost in thought. "It may take some time before I am able to come up with something like that."
"No problem," Harry shrugged. "If you can build something like that, great. If not then oh well."
"Thank you for your faith in us," the Professor smiled. "We'll get on it as soon as we figure out how to solve the mid air collision problem you mentioned earlier."
"Why not try something like what's used on the Knight bus?" Harry asked with an interested expression on his face, "it has to drive through busy streets and it doesn't crash into anything."
"That wouldn't work," the Professor waved his hand, "the . . . excuse me for one minute."
"Sure," Harry shrugged his shoulders.
"Henchgirl, HENCHGIRL." The Professor ran off in search of his assistant. "
Harry's smile dropped as soon as his friend was out of sight, he was still having problems trying to figure out how he was supposed to feel after what he had seen and done. This vacation was supposed to be a few months of relaxation, it was supposed to be a lifetime of living condensed into a summer holiday. Instead, it seemed as if the universe was refusing to let him alone, it seemed as if he was destined to be attacked and dragged into other people's fights.
IIIIIIIIII
"Yes?"
"Good afternoon Mrs. Granger," The Headmaster smiled. "I was wondering if I could talk to your daughter for a few minutes?"
"Of course," Mrs. Granger smiled. "Come right in and have a seat while I get Hermione."
"Thank you," the Headmaster gave his best grandfatherly grin.
"You wanted to see me Professor?" Hermione asked, entering the room.
"Yes," the Headmaster nodded. "I'm trying to get into touch with Harry, and I was hoping that you would be willing to help me."
"Why do you need to talk to him?" Hermione asked with a neutral expression.
"There are a few things that I need to tell him, things that I should have told him a long time ago." The Headmaster exhaled, "I would also like to make sure that he has a way to contact the Order if he needs help or is in trouble."
"Oh," Hermione frowned. "So you're not going to make him go back to his relatives house?"
"No," Dumbledore shook his head. "I came to a realization after hearing your theory about why he left. There is an old saying, 'Those who are willing to sacrifice freedom for security deserve neither freedom nor security.' I wondered what that had made me, the man who was willing to take another's freedom to keep them safe."
"I'm sure you were doing what you thought was best," Hermione tried to cheer the old man.
"There is a saying about good intentions," the Headmaster forced a smile. "But that isn't what I came here to talk to you about. Do you have any idea where we might find Harry? Mr. Weasley seemed to think that he would be living or working in or around a Quidditch stadium."
"Ron sometimes has a hard time telling the difference between his wants and dreams and other people's," Hermione frowned. "Continuing that thought, I don't think you would find Harry in any of the world's great library's or bookstores. Maybe . . . maybe in a circus or around an amusement park, maybe a zoo."
"What makes you think that?" Dumbledore's eyes were filled with interest.
"I think that he wants to fill an entire summer with things that he's never been able to experience before." Hermione paused, "Harry didn't have much of a childhood so I think that he might be trying to give himself one."
"Thank you," Albus silently cursed himself for being such a fool. "You've been most helpful."
"If you find Harry," Hermione bit her lip. "Tell him to write me, Ron too."
"I will, and if you find Harry." Dumbledore pulled two small objects out of his sleeve, "give him one of these."
"What are they, Professor?" Hermione took the two objects.
"Have you been following the Quibbler's coverage of Mr. Black?"
"I haven't been reading the Quibbler," Hermione shook her head. "And I don't know who 'Mr. Black' is."
"Mr. Black is a wizard that has been traveling through Europe making life difficult for the dark side," Dumbledore smiled. "These two devices are portable floo connections that were developed by some of Mr. Black's people. I was able to use a bit of influence to acquire these two before they became available to the general public. There is a small instruction manual engraved on the side of the device and I've been told that their appearance will go unnoticed in the Muggle world."
"Thank you Professor," Hermione smiled.
"Thank you Hermione," the Headmaster returned her smile. "If you see Harry, tell him . . . tell him that I am very sorry."
"I will"
IIIIIIIIII
"We're losing too many of our readers to that damned rag Lovegood owns," a large fat man waved his arms in a comic fashion. "Does anybody have any idea of how we can regain our shrinking market share and bring our profits back up?"
"We could shift our focus away from gossip and barely substantiated rumors," one of the other men suggested. "Maybe the public's appetite for news has changed since the reappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"I like it," the fat man nodded. "The public wants fantasy to get away from the reality of the Dark Lord. It will also cut costs when we fire most of our reporters, who needs reporters when you're just making things up."
Fudge A Monkey?
Our sources reveal that since Fudge's swearing in as Minister of magic, Ministry Potions masters have been receiving regular orders for Polyjuice Potion. This may not seem odd until one points out that Slappy the magical chimp disappeared from his cage the same year that our Minister started Hogwarts. For those that don't remember, Slappy was the chimp that was known to use accidental magic to change the color of his . . . droppings.