"Hello?" Amelia Bones knocked on the door of one of the wizarding world's more . . . eccentric families. "Is there anybody here?"
"You," Laetus snarled as he opened the door. "My office now."
"What?" Amelia had been warned, oh why didn't she believe them.
"SIT," Laetus's face reddened. "Do you know how deep the department is because of you?"
"Um . . . no?"
"NO?" Laetus tossed a large file on the desk, "in the past month you've destroyed five cars and cost the city over fifty million dollars."
"Oh," Amelia blinked.
"Yes Oh," Laetus sighed. "The Mayor is on the Chief's ass and the Chief is on my ass . . . I would have had you gone a long time ago if it weren't for the fact that you're such a good cop."
"Thanks?" She blinked, "can I talk with you about . . ."
"The big Heroin bust," Laetus nodded. "Good job . . . just leave one of them alive next time, damn reporters are saying all kinds of things about you."
"Reporters?"
"Pox on all of them," Laetus nodded. "You won't find a more useless or dishonest profession. Show me a reporter and I'll show you someone that's too dumb and dishonest to make it in the real world."
"O . . . k," she blinked. "I was hoping to ask you . . ."
"Father," Luna stormed into the room and began glaring. "You took your medicine again didn't you?"
"I want your badge and gun Lovegood," Laetus scowled. "There's no place on the force for a loose cannon like you. What you did to the suspects in the Morales investigation . . . well, let's just say that you belong behind bars as much as any of them."
"Vomitus Maximus," Luna flicked her wand. "You can open your mouth without vomiting after you start acting normal again."
A three meter stream of vomit shot out of the man's mouth and out a conveniently nearby window.
Bones watched the byplay with a sense of shocked horror, "um . . . excuse me?"
"Hello Director Bones," Luna smiled. "I'm ever so sorry about the way Father's been acting."
"You mentioned something about medication?" Bones tried to make sense of the situation.
"Yes he gets like this sometimes," Luna nodded. "I've tried to lock the pills away but Father always manages to find them."
"I . . . see," the Director did not see.
"I don't know why he's started to think that we're police officers," Luna shrugged. "Everybody knows that we're secret agents posing as reporters that are posing as a man and his daughter."
"Yes . . . well . . . right. I was hoping to go through any information you might have on Mr. Black." The Director told herself that she could do this, she needed that information and these two seemed to have more of it than anyone else.
"Ok," Luna shrugged. "Do you want to set up a payment plan or pay in a lump sum?"
"What?"
"Secret agent work is tough and it doesn't pay well," Luna explained in a whisper.
"Oh . . . I . . . see," Amelia nodded. "How about I set up an account and we pay you for any information you get as you get it?"
"Ok," Luna focused on a point three meters to her left and fifteen meters behind the director's head.
"Well," Amelia smiled nervously. "About that information."
"Blarrg," Laetus opened his mouth.
"Ready to be a reporter again Father?" Luna smirked.
"Blarrg," Laetus nodded.
"Ok then," Luna undid the spell. "I hope you learned your blarrg."
"Don't forget that I'm the one that taught you that spell," Laetus's grin was entirely too smug. "And I can Blarrg."
"Blarrg," Luna glared. "But you don't know how to undo it and I do."
"Blarg"
"I feel sorry for whatever is below that window." Amelia muttered to herself.
"Now let's agree not to do this until the next projectile vomit appreciation day," Luna nodded as she undid the spell on her father again.
"Projectile Vomit Appreciation Day?" Amelia knew that she was going to regret asking about it.
"Yes," Laetus nodded. "I've noticed that several muggle institutes of higher learning hold festivals where several of the students projectile vomit . . . fascinating custom those muggles have."
"About that information?"
"Here you go," Luna tossed over a large file. "Pay us when you have a chance."
"So long as that chance is soon," Laetus added. "I've got a ravenous hell beast to feed and keep from the rest of humanity."
"Father," Luna blinked. "You say the nicest things about me."
"I'll just be going then," Bones took a quick glance through the file and was astounded at how thorough it was.
"Don't let the Snodfish get you," Luna replied happily.
"I . . . won't," Bones promised. As she made her way back to the office, a terrible thought forced its way into her brain. The file was much more detailed than was normally produced by reporters . . . what if the Lovegood girl hadn't been joking about being a secret agent? The two of them were the last people one would expect to be working for . . . someone like Mr. Black. Eyes widening in shock, Bones froze. On the one hand, she didn't have any evidence . . . and on the other, it explained so much.
Amelia walked outside and past a very disgruntled and vomit covered postman. Taking a step around the corner of the house to avoid the poor postman's notice she disappeared with a pop.
The first thing she did upon her return was to pull out a piece of parchment and list a few known facts about the Lovegood family. The first was that Luna was a friend of the Potter boy and had been with him on his trip to the Department of Mysteries. The second was that she came from a family that was well known for its eccentricity, so well known that very few wizards gave them a second thought or took them the least bit seriously . . . well until recently when Black appeared and proved that at least one of their crazy ideas was true . . . and she supposed about the rebirth of the dark lord. The fourth was Black, the family knew more about the mysterious man then anyone else that she knew of.
Amelia frowned, things were looking entirely too neat and the first thing she learned as a rookie investigator was that when things fit together so nicely that she had to be missing something, nothing was perfect. On the other hand, what kind of spies would announce that they were spies? One would think that they would do more to blend in, no one would think that . . . she froze. No one would suspect that a person that was so flamboyant would be a spy, and the very idea that they announce their profession . . .
Amelia destroyed her well thought out list with a quick security charm. On the one hand nothing had been proven. And on the other . . . on the other she was going to get a subscription to that newspaper of theirs.
IIIIIIIIII
"Only you Professor," Harry grinned. "Where are we at the moment?"
"We're over a tropical isle," the Professor smiled. "Henchgirl wanted to get some time on the beach."
"Could you arrange a portkey for me?" Harry yawned.
"Of course," the Professor nodded. "But if I may, I'd like to suggest something."
"What's that?" Harry blinked.
"It's late," the Professor pointed to a large clock. "Why not spend the remaining hours of daylight on the beach with us? That way you can get a fresh start in the morning."
"Ok," Harry nodded. "That sounds like a great idea."
"Wonderful," the Professor's grin widened. "I'll just go get Henchgirl."
"You do that," Harry nodded as he shifted his clothing to something more appropriate to the beach. "I'll meet you in the Port room."
Harry walked to the PortTrans room and was soon joined by an excited Professor and Henchgirl.
"I'm so happy you decided to join us," Henchgirl was a bit more bubbly than normal. "And to protect our skin from the sun and salt, I developed this new potion."
"Cool," Harry blinked. "Sounds great."
"Everyone drink up," Henchgirl passed the bottles around. "I tried to make this batch taste like strawberries."
"Mine tastes like old socks," the Professor gagged.
"So it did," Henchgirl took the bottle back. "I guess I must still be mad about the fact that you chose to get kidnapped and disrupted my vacation in Egypt."
"Silence Devil Woman," the Professor scowled.
"Devil Woman?" Henchgirl's eyes flashed, "look who's talking you little Troll."
"Troll? TROLL?"
"I think it might be time to go to the beach now," Harry suggested.
"Ok," Henchgirl nodded.
"Sounds good," the Professor agreed.
The three friends ported down and found themselves in a secluded cove.
"This is great," Harry looked around. "Absolutely fantastic."
"The whole stretch of land belongs to a wizarding family, so we won't be disturbed by anyone." The Professor smiled, "not even the family."
"Not even the family?" Harry had a bad feeling about the answer.
"They live in England," Henchgirl yawned. "I know one of them and they said that we could spend as much time as we wanted here."
"Oh," Harry relaxed. He really needed to learn not to doubt his friends.
Henchgirl spread out a blanket and the three of them flopped down onto it.
"This is the life," Harry closed his eyes. "I need to spend more time on the beach."
"I agree," the Professor nodded. "I think that . . . what's that in your hand?"
"This?" Harry opened his hand to show the rock that he was about to throw into the surf. "Just a rock."
"Could you let me examine it?" The Professor held out his hand.
"Sure," Harry shrugged. "Knock yourself out."
"What is it, Professor?" Henchgirl leaned forward.
"It appears to have a high concentration of titanium," the Professor replied. "I've read that the beaches around here have rich titanium deposits but I've never seen anything like this."
"Pity we can't go into the ocean and find the source," Harry yawned. "I think I saw something about the stuff on the teli."
"We might be able to do something," the Professor smiled. "I'll have a talk with the Architect about it later . . . which brings us to a subject that Henchgirl and I have been wanting to discuss with you."
"Go ahead," Harry nodded. "I'm all ears."
"Henchgirl and I found the perfect Island for sale," the Professor smiled. "Barren, desolate, covered with numerous enchantments that repel nearly anything that has anything to do with people."
"Large enough to build a very large fortress, but small enough to be easily defensible." Henchgirl added, "it's also unclaimed land so we won't be bothered by any of those silly regulations preventing us from 'breaking the laws of nature' or 'finding out things that mankind was not meant to know.'"
"And the best part is that it's near the Antarctic, so there will always be plenty of delicious penguins to eat." The Professor finished with an excited smile.
"Penguins?" Harry forced himself not to ask, "so why are you telling me all of this?"
"Well," the Professor began. "We were kind of hoping that you would be willing to buy it."
"Why not buy it yourself?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrow.
"We're not very good with money," Henchgirl explained with an embarrassed expression. "So we gave you controlling interest in the company and only allowed ourselves a small percentage of the profits to fund our research."
"Oh," Harry was stunned. "Sure, we could buy it if you want."
"Great," Henchgirl clapped. "I'll tell the Architect to start designing the place."
"What's the name of this company?" Harry couldn't believe how much his life had changed in the short time since he'd left school.
"Black Ink," the Professor replied proudly.
"Black Inc.?" Harry nodded.
"No," Henchgirl shook her head. "Black Ink . . . the Professor can't spell."
"Why not Professor industries, or Henchgirl Incorporated?" Harry was having a hard time following the train of logic. "Why name it after me?"
"Henchgirl Incorporated?" Henchgirl rubbed her chin, "can that be the name for our potions department?"
"Whatever you want," Harry shrugged.
"We named it after you for many reasons," the Professor smiled. "For one thing, none of this would have happened without your help."
"Ok," Harry stretched out. "Thank you."
"You are very welcome," the Professor nodded.
"Yeah," Henchgirl smiled.
"I had another idea for you two," Harry rested his head in his hands. "I understand that the Zippos are too small to send large things through but . . ."
"But?" The Professor couldn't wait to hear his friend's idea.
"But couldn't we use it with the PortTrans?" Harry smiled, "that way we can automatically portkey to anyone with a Zippo."
"Wouldn't work," the Professor deflated. "We might be able to work something out with manually created portkeys but we don't have the technology to carry out your idea at the moment . . . most we could do is send small non living objects."
"How small?" Harry smiled when he saw the Professor indicate the size of the item with his hands, "why don't we use it to deliver things? We'd be the fastest mail order business in the world, you item in thirty seconds or it's free."
"We might be able to do something like that," Henchgirl nodded. "I don't like the idea of giving out free items though."
"Then skip that part," Harry shrugged. "In fact, make them pay extra for our instant delivery."
"Ok," Henchgirl nodded. "Now let's go swimming."
"Last one in is a jar of some sort of disgusting matter," the Professor called out. "Possibly something that smells strongly of sulfur."
IIIIIIIIII
The next day, Harry's portkey delivered him to a busy street in a rather large town.
"There you are," a man stepped out of one of the many shops and grabbed Harry by the arm. "You were supposed to be here last night . . . do you know how hard it will be to get everything back on schedule?"
"Huh?" Harry stared at the obviously crazy man.
"Here are your portkeys," the man handed over a couple of small metal rings. "And here are your souvenirs, a bronze statue of Kali and an old Chakram that I'm sure has all sorts of mysterious powers . . . actually, I'd bet that both of them have some odd and unusual powers."
"What's going on?" Harry grabbed the items with his left hand to free his right for the duel that seemed to be on the way.
"You're late, that's what's going on," the man glared. "You didn't do any of the things I saw you doing last night . . . what happened."
"I went to the beach," Harry let his wand drop into his hand. "And you still didn't answer my question."
"If you want answers then talk to that cousin of mine in England cause all of this is his fault," the man looked down at a small scrap of paper. "I contacted the tailor that you were supposed to go to, he and his wife will contact your friends . . . what am I forgetting?"
Harry's eyes widened as he felt the portkey pulling him to his next destination.
"Oh right," the man slapped himself on the forehead. "The death eaters . . . suppose that they won't be showing up. Not with how late he was anyway, some people just don't consider other people's feelings."
IIIIIIIIII
Harry dropped into a crouch with his wand out and quickly surveyed his surroundings. To his front was the Taj Mahal and to his back and sides were tourists. Shrugging his shoulders, Harry ignored the odd looks and pocketed his wand. Sighing in frustration, Harry walked up to the massive white building and added the shopkeeper to his people to beat severely list.
Harry spent several hours marveling at the massive building and was examining an interesting stretch of wall when he felt the tug of the other portkey.
"Forgot about the second one," Harry's wand appeared in his hand and his eyes scanned for danger.
"Are you my guest?" A small man looked up with a bored expression.
"Maybe," Harry started to relax. "I'm not sure . . . where are we?"
"You're my guest," the small man nodded. "We're in a place where nations don't matter and names have no meaning."
"What's that supposed to . . . wow," Harry stared in awe at the massive mountains that dominated the skyline. "We . . . we must be in the Himalayas."
"Perhaps," the small man shrugged. "I'm not one to worry at such things. I'm your guide for this trip."
"I'm Mr. Black," Harry's mind had yet to process all of the amazing views. "Nice to meet you."
"Come with me," the guide smiled. "It would be nice to get there before it gets dark."
"Get where?" Harry trailed behind the small man.
"To where we're going," the guide replied with a grin. "Where else would we be headed?"
"I guess that makes sense . . . sort of." Harry's eyes crossed, "how long will it take to get there?"
"As long as it takes," the guide shrugged.
"That shopkeeper is definitely moving up on that list," Harry muttered to himself.
The guide took Harry up an amazingly steep road and through a series of twists and turns.
"It is just around this bend," the guide called out as he rounded a large outcropping.
"What's just around the . . . wow," Harry stared in awe at the large city at the end of the road.
"I can go no further," the guide smiled. "You must take the last steps on your own."
"Why?"
"I owe someone money," the guide smiled. "And I'm afraid that they might be in there."
"Oh," Harry blinked. "I'll just be going then."
"I shall wait here for you," the guide smiled. "Have a pleasant visit."
The gates swung open on their own accord and several men in red and gold robes came out.
"Welcome young friend to Shangri La," they smiled in welcome. "May your visit be pleasant."
Harry walked through the gates and relaxed, the whole area seemed to exclude a sense of peace and tranquility.
"I think . . . I think that I'm going to like this place," Harry smiled. "I may have finally found my home."
"Maybe," one of the monks smiled. "Or maybe you've just reached a waypoint in your journey around the wheel, only time will tell."
The days turned into weeks and the weeks to months, Harry spent untold hours learning to calm and to eventually master his mind and mental defenses became absolute. Taking a deep breath, Harry shrugged off his red robes and again donned the clothing that he had worn when he came into this place.
"Leaving?" One of the monks smiled at Harry's preparations.
"Yes," Harry nodded. "I can't believe I spent so much time here, I'd better be getting back."
"Time is not a concern for you," the monk smiled. "And you must only go back when it is your time to go back, do not make the mistake of returning too soon."
"Thank you," Harry took one last look around. "I'm going to miss this place, thank you for allowing me to stay here."
"All are welcome here," the old monk smiled. "And perhaps you may return in time, the future is yet unwritten and who can say where you path may take you."
Harry shouldered his pack and walked out the large gates. Harry shook his head in wonder upon seeing a small figure standing in the distance.
"I can't believe you waited this long," Harry smiled as he walked up to his guide. "How did you know when I was going to come out?"
"They always come out about five minutes after they go in," the guide shrugged. "I'd think that they'd like to stay longer but . . ."
Harry looked back at the blank spot of ground that had held the massive city only moments before.
"Why does this always happen to me?" He moaned, "why can't I ever have a normal day?"
"I don't know," the guide shrugged. "Maybe you're the universe's spittoon."
"Probably," Harry nodded. "It would certainly explain some things."
"Just follow this path down and you'll get where you need to be," the guide pointed out a worn track. "And have a pleasant journey."
"Thank you," Harry spent several minutes walking down the path and after a few twists and turns was surprised to find himself back on the beach that he had visited with the Professor and Henchgirl.
"Didn't you just leave?" The Doctor blinked at Harry's sudden appearance.
"I . . . think so," Harry frowned. "I'm not sure though."
"Since you're here . . . "
"Yes?"
"Could you rub this lotion on my back?"
"Sure," Harry shrugged. It wasn't Shangri La but rubbing lotion on the back of a beautiful woman was nothing to sneer at.
IIIIIIIIII
While Harry had his existential experiences, his friends were meeting to decide the form that their new home would take.
"I don't care if it is traditional," the Professor glared at Henchgirl and the Architect. "The castle will not look like a giant skull . . . the island isn't even a volcano."
"How about some sort of Gothic monstrosity?" The architect suggested, "filled with secret passages and such."
"It's also traditional," Henchgirl mused. "A bit older tradition but still . . ."
"I can live with that," the Professor nodded. "Let's get started on our respective parts."
IIIIIIIIII
"Well?" The dark lord leaned forward.
"Nothing happened master," the nervous death eater was shaking. "We showed up and nothing happened."
"What?"
"The team got ready and we all took our positions," tears fell under the death eater's mask and his voice became shrill. "Nothing happened, wormtail ate some bad shrimp and had to get his stomach pumped, then he was hit by one of those street taxis, and then he ate some bad curry and is currently making my Lord's water closet smell like a week old corpse . . . other than that, nothing happened."
"If nothing happened," the dark lord asked in false calm. "Then why did half the team burst into tears when they got back? Why did the other half wet themselves? AND WHY WON'T YOU STOP SHAKING?"
"He's just trying to trick us," the death eater giggled insanely. "Trying to get us to drop our guard . . . but . . . but we're too smart for that."
"CRUCIO," Voldemort had to resist the urge to cry . . . you just couldn't get good minions anymore.