"Goodbye Professor, Henchgirl." Harry smiled, "thanks for cheering me up, I really . . . I really needed your support."
"Think nothing of it my Friend," the Professor smiled. "Just keep giving us ideas to work on."
"I will," Harry nodded as he turned to walk away.
Harry walked several blocks before stopping and hailing a cab, sometimes he forgot that he didn't have to worry about money like normal people did, it wasn't like he was going to need it in a year or two.
"Where to?" The cab driver didn't even bother to look at his customer.
"Center of town," Harry closed his eyes. "Wake me when we arrive, and take your time. I'm in no hurry."
"You got it," the driver nodded. "Anything else?"
"No"
The ride passed in silence, and the driver took several nervous glances at the apparently sleeping man in the backseat of his cab.
"We've stopped," Harry commented, not bothering to open his eyes. "Have we arrived?"
"Yes sir," the driver stared straight ahead. "Do you need anything else?"
"No," Harry handed the man several bills. "Have a good day."
"I will sir," the driver nodded, taking the bills. "You as well."
"Thank you," Harry walked out of the cab and began muttering to himself. "Austria, I think the best place to go now would be Austria."
The cab driver's hands shook as he watched the man leave, he hadn't understood the order from above when they told him to keep an eye out for the frightening man with the unrecognizable face and if he had been in any other line of work then he would have laughed it off and forgotten about it.
The driver calmed his hands and carefully pulled into traffic, the strange man had given him a message to pass and he didn't think that it would be healthy to delay its delivery.
IIIIIIIIII
It did not take long for Harry to find the town's sole magical shop, taking a nervous breath he walked in
"One moment," an old man that Harry presumed to be the shopkeeper spoke from the back of the shop. "What can I do for you?"
"I need to find a way to arrange transportation to Austria," Harry managed a weak smile.
"I can arrange something for you," the old man smiled. "But I'm afraid that it might take a bit of time."
"How long?" Harry asked with a sigh.
"Depends," the old man smiled. "Might be best to spend a bit of time looking around my shop, I'm sure that I'll have something ready by the time you want to make your purchases."
"Alright," Harry nodded.
"The best things will be through that doorway," the old man commented. "You might want to start there, the things on display out here are just cheap trinkets for the tourists."
"If you say so," Harry agreed with a shrug. He was beginning to suspect that there wasn't a sane shopkeep in the world.
Walking through the indicated doorway, Harry spent several minutes browsing and finally returned to the counter with a small selection of the odd items that he had seen.
"I see that you were able to find some things." The shopkeeper looked over the items that Harry had placed on the table, "interesting selection."
"I mostly chose the things that I didn't recognise," Harry admitted with a grin.
"This," the man held up an odd looking blue flag with a golden disk surrounded by a green wreath with red flower, small union jack in the top corner. "I believe that this is the regimental colors for a unit of British Infantry, I'm not sure where it came from and I'm afraid that I can't tell you much about it."
"That's fine," Harry shrugged. "I have a friend that would love to figure out where it came from."
"I'm glad. The second item," the shop owner held up a large iron ball. "Is a portable dungeon made for some marquis in France, as a . . . recreational item. It comes with a full assortment of . . . devices, and a full reference library."
"Recreational item?"
"Moving right along," the man picked up a length of chain. "This is a steel whip made of several thousand interlocking rings, it has a large assortment of enchantments that allow a skilled user to do a number of astounding stunts."
"Thanks," Harry smiled. "Is my portkey ready yet?"
"Before I answer that, I think that you'll be wanting to buy one of these too." The shopkeeper placed a large stein alongside Harry's other purchases.
"What is it?" Harry eyed the strange cup with a large measure of suspicion.
"It's just something to drink beer out of," the old man smiled. "Why?"
"This is a magical shop," Harry took a step back. "And I'm waiting for you to tell me why you're selling something so normal looking in this shop."
"Oh, is that all?" The old man smiled, "now that you mention it, I may have accidentally put a few charms on it so it automatically fills itself from the taps at a few of the local breweries."
"Oh?" Harry began to relax, "for how long?"
"I'm not exactly sure how long the enchantments will hold up," the old man shrugged. After all the things that his cousins were inflicting on the boy, he deserved some sort of compensation. "Few years at least."
"I'll take it," Harry couldn't wait to show it to the twins. "Thank you."
"And since you're getting that," the shopkeeper grinned. "You'll have to have one of these."
"One of what?" Harry closed his eyes and began rubbing his temples.
"An ever full flask," the store owner dropped a large silver flask on the pile. "Fills with your choice of several dozen non magical liquids, just the thing to compliment an ever full stein."
"Ok," Harry nodded. "Is the port . . ."
"And a perfect compliment to the stein and ge mug is this book," the shopkeep put out a rather large book. "The single wizard's guide to keeping his witch or witches or pack of veela happy."
"Fine," Harry forced a smile. "Can I have that portkey now?"
"No problem," the shopkeep held out his hand. "The portkey is ready and all that you need to do is pay to be on your way."
"One moment," Harry dug out a handful of coins. "Here you are."
"Thank you," the old man handed back a cloth bag containing Harry's purchases and a small glass bead. "It will activate in three, two, one."
Harry felt the world spin, and the portkey dragged him to his next destination.
"Good afternoon," a man in a strange uniform greeted Harry upon his arrival, "how are you today?"
"I'm fine," Harry began to relax. "How are things in Austria? No attacks or odd occurrences?"
"No sir," replied the now curious customs agent. "Why do you ask?"
"I've been under a lot of stress the last few days and I was hoping to get a chance to relax without being blindsided by all the weirdness that usually inflicts itself on my life."
"I see," the customs agent frowned. "What's in the bag?"
"This," Harry glanced down at the bag containing the items he collected in the odd shop. "Just a few things I picked up in Germany."
"May I have a look?"
"Sure," Harry placed the bag on a convenient table.
The customs agent's eyes widened in astonishment as he took his first look, "you say that you picked these items up in Germany?"
"Yes?" Harry nodded, "is something wrong?"
"No," the man shook his head. "Nothing is wrong, it's just history is a hobby of mine and when I saw the flag . . . could I ask your name?"
"Black," Harry held up his passport.
"That won't be necessary," the agent returned the shopping bag. "And let me be the first to welcome you to Austria, and to wish you good luck and good hunting."
"Thanks?" Harry gave a slow nod of acknowledgement, "was there something else you needed?"
"No sir," the agent smiled. "I'm sure that you must be tired from your travels, so why don't you head into town and find a hotel while I go report to my superiors."
"Ok?" Harry walked away from the customs desk and into the rest of the building.
The customs agent smiled as he watched the smooth departure of the mysterious Mr. Black, he pitied the fool that Mr. Black had come to eliminate.
IIIIIIIIII
Stepping out of the customs room, Harry was almost overwhelmed by the amount of people rushing back and forth.
"Excuse me," a young woman spoke up, distracting Harry from the number of people rushing around. "Would you like me to help you arrange transportation?"
"What?" Harry turned to look at the woman, "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect to see that." Harry waved his hands to indicate the scene.
"I understand," the woman nodded. "Vienna is unique in that it is one of the few cities to use a large muggle airport to house its magical processing center."
"And they don't notice anything odd?"
"For the most part, they're tired, frustrated, and in an unfamiliar place." The girl shrugged, "when I consider all that, I sometimes think that we don't even need to keep up the charms."
"I see," Harry nodded. "Makes sense I suppose, now what was that question you asked me before?"
"Oh," the girl blushed. "I was just asking if you needed me to help you arrange transportation?"
"I might," Harry nodded. "What are my options?"
"Well," the girl smiled. "The first thing you need to do is decide if you want to use Magic or Muggle methods of transportation."
"Muggle I suppose," Harry smiled.
"Ok," the girl nodded. "Do you need any help arranging things in the muggle world?"
"No," Harry shook his head. "I don't believe I'll have any trouble arranging things."
"Then have a nice day sir," the girl smiled cheerfully.
"You as well." Harry smiled, then turned to walk into the airport.
Harry spent a bit of time exploring the airport, marveling at its sights, sounds, and smells. Never before had he experienced something so seemingly chaotic, it was all so new, all so fascinating and before he knew it several hours had passed. Most of which was spent watching the planes take off and land. Until, finally noticing the time, and a bit embarrassed at the fact that he had spent the entire day staring at something so common as take offs and landings, Harry began to make his way to the rail station.
"Something to read on the train?" An older gentleman asked, holding up a newspaper, "Only a Schilling, and well worth it."
"Alright," Harry took a moment to pull out a handful of the appropriate currency. "Thank you."
"Always happy to help a traveler." The old man smiled, despite the fact that he had been born without a significant amount of magic, he still suffered from the family curse, and he was still loyal to the cause. It didn't hurt that it allowed him a chance to make a bit of money from a group of rather dull blood purists, after all who else would be dim enough to go hunting for the infamous Mr. Black. "Here's your change sir, have a good day."s
"Thank you," Harry smiled. "I will."
The old man smiled, as he thought of the chaos that he saw coming thanks to his actions, the damage to the Dark Lord's forces would be immense . . . not bad for a squib that wasn't normally good enough to merit the notice of the more uptight members of wizarding society.
Harry had only a short wait before his train arrived and he quickly found a seat in the last car, opening his newspaper to pass the time and he soon lost all interest in the world around.
IIIIIIIIII
"Well?" The rat-like man asked nervously.
"After hearing your problem, I think I've found a solution." Replied a young man with a smile, "though I still think it would be best if I were allowed to examine the sight of the accident to make sure that my calculations are correct."
"And it's still impossible to allow that," Wormtail hissed. The Dark Lord hadn't been pleased by the portkey accident that had destroyed the team in Switzerland and had taken his displeasure out on his one minion capable of making international portkeys. "How does it work?"
"It casts a small charm to check the elevation of the target area a few seconds before re-materialization and automatically aborts if the projected landing site is more than ten feet above the ground level." The young man resisted the urge to laugh, "though I must admit that I'm still a bit mystified as to how something like this became necessary."
"I'm not supposed to reveal trade secrets and you know it." Wormtail frowned, at present the portkey maker was too important to alienate, but as soon as he began to suspect something, or three seconds after they acquired another wizard capable of making international portkeys . . .
"Well," the portkey maker spoke, interrupting Wormtail's train of thought. "Don't hesitate to come back if you have any more problems or questions, though for the life of me I still can't understand why a pet shop would need such highly specialized portkeys."
"That's not for you to know," Wormtail tried (and failed) to look menacing, before disappearing with a pop.
Reappearing before a throne in a darkened manor house.
"Well?" The dark figure on the throne hissed.
"I have it master," Wormtail fell to his knees and began kissing the hem of his master's robe.
"Then take it to the strike team," the dark voice replied.
"Yes Master," Wormtail stood and slowly began backing out of the room.
"One more thing, Wormtail."
"Yes Master?" The rat-like man cowered.
"I want you to accompany the team," the dark voice hissed. "I want a personal report on the mission after your return."
"Yes master," the rat-like man whimpered as he fled the room.
Wormtail's look of fear transformed into a superior sneer as he entered the room that had been assigned to the group of death eaters that had been chosen for the task of eliminating Mr. Black.
"Stand up," Wormtail's sneer deepened. "And touch the portkey, you don't want to have to explain to the dark lord why you weren't on the mission he assigned to you and I'm not going to wait for you to ready yourselves."
The assorted Death Eaters all touched the portkey and readied their wands.
Just before the portkey activated, Wormtail smiled. "Mr. Black will die tonight."
The group of Death Munchers appeared in mid air and for one frightening second, Wormtail knew what that last team felt before they met their end. Several Death Eaters cried out in surprise as gravity exerted its control and drug them to their fate, which happened to be about one meter below their arrival point.
"Who screamed? Who's the coward in the Dark Lord's army?" Wormtail shouted trying to cover up his own nervousness.
Most of the assorted death eaters ignored the rat, though one or two of the newer recruits looked down at their feet in shame.
"Where are we and where's Black?" The senior Death Eater hissed, "you had better not have made a mistake rat."
"I made no mistakes." Wormtail cowered, forgetting his earlier show of command. "It looks like we're on the tracks for the Hogwart's Express."
"It does, doesn't it," the senior grudgingly admitted. "Black must be in the castle, the muggle loving old fool must have put up new wards."
"That's right," Wormtail admitted nervously. "It's not my faul. . ."
The remainder of Wormtail's words were drowned out by the bellow of a trains' horn and the shriek of its brakes. Most of the assorted Death Eaters didn't even have time to scream before they were ground into paste under the lead cars' wheels.
Ahead, Harry looked up from his newspaper as he heard the terrible shriek of a trains' breaks off in the distance. Shaking his head, Harry wondered for a second what had happened on the track behind to cause such a sound, then shrugged his shoulders and went back to his newspaper, he'd hear about it if it was anything important.