A/N: Hey to all who reviewed. For the one who asked about the email alerts, yeah, I'm having the same problem. I've done a few tests and I'm not getting Review or Story Alerts. No idea why…probably a bug when they fixed the uploading problem. I haven't read White Night yet, although I have it on order, so any similarities between Harry's relationship with Meciel and Dresden's with Lasciel is purely coincidental. There are no definite pairings for the story and I'm not going to put up polls to whore for reviews. Harry's walking a fine line between good and evil, which is what I'm trying to portray, especially in the last few chapters. He'll do some ruthless stuff but he's not completely gone yet.

To anybody who may be worried that this is becoming similar to a “transfer student from America comes…” you can stop your worrying. I try not to fall into any clichés and if I do, tell me about them so I can hit myself.

Enough blabbering, methinks, and on with the story!

At the same time, on the other side of the world, Albus Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon glasses over his pale blue eyes, which twinkled as he watched the Hogwarts students eye the newly arrived Durmstrang students. The foreign students, for the most part, seemed to take the attention well as they milled around, draping their heavy fur coats behind them as they muttered to each other in thick, dark voices, eying the castle behind Dumbledore, seemingly impressed. Near them, a small group of Beauxbatons students let out a wave of giggles as they eyed one of the more handsome sixth-year Slytherin, who gave a lazy smile and waved at them. Dumbledore shook his head his head with amusement, his eyes twinkling madly as a small smile curved his aged lips, but his smile faded ever-so slightly as his gaze came upon the two heads of the other schools.

Olympe Maxime was conversing quietly with Igor Kakaroff, who had an especially smug expression on his face as Madame Maxime let out a loud, roaring laugh, her voice far deeper than many of the seventh year males at Hogwarts. Albus watched the two carefully, dipping his head and flashing a polite smile when Olympe glanced his way, and he held his smile as he observed Kakaroff. He knew that the man had been a Death Eater during Lord Voldemort's rise to power and had committed some terrible atrocities, although many were never proven. He also knew that the man had been given a reprieve from his sentence for his apparent willingness after Voldemort was banished by young Harry Potter. Still, Albus made a mental note to keep a wary eye on the man, especially with regards to this very important event. It wouldn't do for any of the other school champions to be endangered merely so Kakaroff could secure a win for Durmstrang.

He moved his gaze away from Kakaroff and Maxime and clasped his hands together as he waited for the last and newest competitor to arrive. The invitation had been extended to Salem's Wizards and Witches Institute after some heated debate between the various international committees. The last time the tournament had run, Salem's was no more than a temporary shelter for magical children. However, times had changed and the school had become a formidable institution in its own right, lending credence to Salem's demands to be allowed to enter the tournament. Naturally, Headmaster Kakaroff had strongly disapproved of the idea, stating that tradition dictated that only three schools were to participate in the Tri-wizard Tournament. But with the combined efforts of Madame Maxime and Albus himself, they had been able to get Salems as an official competitor in the Tri-wizard tournament, or was it the Quad-wizard tournament now?

Suddenly Albus noticed a soft, sparkle of light that appeared in front of the lake, a gentle mote of golden light that floated towards the ground. His eyes twinkled as the first of the students noticed what was happening, their mutterings dieing down as a few more sparkles of light appeared, glowing beautifully in beneath the shimmering moon. Albus watched carefully as he felt the first presence of powerful magic, which was quite impressive if not a little crude, as more and more sparkles started to shower down from the sky. Bright silver and luminescent golden motes quickly started appearing in droves, a soft and beautiful glow shining out onto the awe-struck crow. The sparkles kept appearing in soft flares of light as they materialised into existence until a brightly glittering fog settled over the lakeshore. Albus watched with a pleasant smile on his face as dark figures emerged from the fog.

Two lines of figures walked out of the sparkling mist and into the full view of the assembly. They were dressed dark-red robes, their faces wide with excitement as they stared at Hogwarts with awe, the castle shimmering with hundreds of lights as it loomed up into the night sky. The students were led by a severe and ancient looking wizard with a large, droopy moustache and soft brown eyes. Supervising the students was a tall girl with blonde hair and a pretty face. She was a little older than most of the students but carried herself different, her eyes bright but wary and on impulse, Albus carefully extended his senses. A tingle of shock flared through it but he kept it carefully hidden as he withdrew his mind. Why in Merlin's name was there a true-wizard here? Albus noticed that the girl was eyeing him carefully, having felt his careful scan, and he felt her probe leap forward, all force and no subtlety as it struck his aura, but Albus easily shook it off and gave the girl a smile, who looked shocked as she stared at him with wide eyes.

“Headmaster Dumbledore,” called out the ancient wizard, his voice quavering with age as he limped forward, extending out a wrinkled old hand as a smile came over his face.

Albus let a beaming come over his face as he jovially strode forward, clasping the ancient wizards hand with his own. The wizards squeezed back with far more strength than many would have expected from such an old man while the woman watched on with narrowed eyes

“Headmaster Smith,” Albus said warmly. “It is a pleasure to see you once more. How have you been?”

“Quite good, quite good,” Smith said, his voice almost a croak and he turned away and let out a hacking cough. Albus watched with slight concern as Smith sighed wearily, wiping his mouth with his hand and turning back to Albus. “My, the weather is quite cold here, isn't it?”

“Indeed it is,” answered Albus, concern in his eyes as he gazed at his sick friend. “Should the cold ever bother you, we have a well-staffed infirmary here run by a most excellent Healer who would be more than happy to prescribe you a pepper-up potion.”

“That is very kind of you, Albus,” The ancient man said gratefully, and then gestured for the blonde true-wizard to come over. “This is Molly Carpenter. She's our new teacher of Alternative Magics and the Old World. It's been an enormous success so far and most students seem to enjoy it.”

“Indeed?” murmured Albus, his voice light and jubilant as he turned to the young woman, a welcoming smile on his face. “Welcome to Hogwarts, Miss Carpenter. I do hope that you enjoy your stay here.”

“Thankyou, Headmaster Dumbledore,” said Molly, her voice soft as she stared at him with a strange expression on her face. Albus supposed that she had encountered very few wand-wizards who could block her naturally more powerful abilities and his smile widened, crinkles centring around his blue eyes.

“Molly here was the one that signed the contract in my stead,” Headmaster Smith said, wheezing a little as he placed a wrinkled hand over his chest, giving another soft cough. “My heart just isn't what it's used to be and the new potions can make me a little drowsy.”

“Ah,” Albus said and turned to Molly, a small smile on his face and a twinkle in his eyes. “Are you interested in continuing your lessons here?”

“If you have the room,” Molly answered quietly.

“We don't offer such a course here but I daresay that I can work up something,” Albus said, his eyes light with humour and amusement as he stared down the true-wizard, who eyed him back with a mixture of confidence and hesitance, as if she didn't know what to make of him.

“Grand, just grand,” Headmaster Smith wheezed. “As a thankyou, let me offer an invitation to any students from Hogwarts who may be interested in the class.”

“That is kind of you,” said Albus, his long beard quivering as he bowed his head towards the ancient wizard, who suddenly shuddered as a cool gust of wind swept through the assembly area. Around them, students were already being dismissed and heading back inside the warm castle and Albus offered his arm to the Salem Headmaster, who took it with a grateful hand. “Now, shall we make our way inside? It's a little chilly out here, if I do say so myself.”

Harry's apparated into a backroom of a small, wand-wizarding restaurant, his face twisted into a grimace as he walked forward, his hand hovering above the bullet wound in his shoulder. It was still numb and Harry couldn't feel a thing from it, but as Meciel had told him countless times, pain was the body's way of telling the brain that it was being damaged and just because Harry was ignoring the message signal didn't mean that he could ignore the damage.

“How bad is it?” He asked softly, his voice quite loud as it bounced off the insulated walls.

'The damage is minimal,' Meciel said. 'Once you remove the bullet, I can begin healing it.'

“Should I summon it out of the wound?” Harry asked, giving his wand an idle flick for good measure and seeing a small shower of glittering sparks burst from the tip of the gleaming holly-wood.

'You could do that if you wished to literally shoot yourself,' Meciel said, her voice stern. 'The summoning charm is not a precise art and the bullet can cause more, permanent damage if it is forced out in the wrong direction. No, beloved, I suggest that you wait.'

“You're the boss,” Harry muttered as he opened the door. The sounds of clinking dishes and chattering laughter drifted into his ears as he left the sound-proofed room, which had been designed as a small platform where wand-wizards could apparate to safely without disturbing any potential muggles that could walk into the restaurant.

Harry walked down a small corridor and entered a larger room, where several people sat at small tables with plates of steaming food in front of them. Harry didn't take notice of them as he passed a small bar, ignoring an inquisitive look from the bartender as he opened the door, bells clanging against each other, and left the restaurant. The patrons didn't even look up as he stalked off, content in their conversations and food.

“That's it, right?” Harry muttered to himself as he approached a pair of sturdy, steel-wrought gates. Behind them loomed a large, modern-looking building, at least four stories high. The sun glared brightly in the sky, the weather far different here than it was in Chicago, dulling on the tinted-windows. There were several small buildings located around what seemed more like a university campus than a school for magic. A large, thick wall of stone surrounded the school and at the gates, nestled between the stone and steel, was a small guardhouse.

'I believe so, beloved. Neither I or any of my previous hosts have been here and the information that I…received…from my kin does not contain anything useful either.'

Harry frowned and approached the small gate-house, knocking on the window with his knuckles as he peered inside. A flabby man dressed in a security guard's uniform looked up from his magazine, he face distinctly bored as he eyed Harry, covering his mouth as he gave a slow yawn.

“Sorry kid, the campus is invite only,” said the guard in a monotone voice, as if he had said the same line over and over again.

“I'm looking for a student inside,” Harry told the guard quietly, his eyes flickering around as he searched for any presence of Nicodemus' goons. “It's a family emergency.”

'Like I said kid,” The guard grunted, not caring as he sat back down, picking up his magazine and flopping back to his page. “Invite only. You need to have special talents to get into the school. Wait until your friend has finished their classes.”

“Well, I suppose it's a good thing that I have a wand, then,” Harry said coolly and the man's head jerked up, his eyes widening as Harry waggled a wand in front of the window. The guard frowned in irritation as he stood up again and moved for the door.

“Well, why didn't you say so in the first place?” He muttered under his breath as he opened the door and ushered Harry inside.

Harry blinked as he stepped the dingy little gate-house and let out an involuntary gasp of shock as his eyes widened. The inside of the gate-house was far larger than it looked on the outside, a large expanse of tiled floors. A fireplace flared with heat and flame on the other side of the room, cracking softly in the warm room. There was a small but elegantly carved fountain depicting a woman dressed in a witch's robe, holding up a wand in an eternal symbol of defiance.

“So, what's the problem?” The guard asked with a yawn, sitting back in his chair as he gazed at Harry with a bored expression.

“It's a family emergency,” Harry said, drawing his eyes away from the unexpected scenery and focussing them on the guard in front of him. “I need to speak to Amanda and Molly Carpenter, right now.”

The guard frowned and languidly waved his wand, and a filing cabinet on the other side of the room burst open as a battered scroll shot out of it and zoomed through the air, landing in the man's hands. He unravelled it, frowning as he trailed his finger down the piece of parchment.

“Well, Amanda Carpenter has her lunch break now,” The guard said, squinting at the piece of paper. “You could try the cafeteria. I don't know where that teacher is though.”

“The cafeteria,” Harry murmured. “So, where is that exactly?”

Five minutes later, Harry stalked into a decently sized room, his eyes gazing around the room as a frown appeared on his face. At the far end of the cafeteria was a serving bench of sorts was wrinkled, sun-tanned robed witch served a short queue of crimson-robed students that had lined up behind it. Light filtered in from both walls, large windows showing the clear, blue sky outside. Unlit old-fashioned torches had been clamped to the pale walls and next to two of these torches was a small sign labelled 'THINGS NOT TO DO! DETENTIONS WILL APPLY!'

Dozens of small, rectangular plastic tables had been laid out around the cafeteria and around the tables sat more crimson-robed students, chatting with each other with bright smiles and quick gestures with their hands. Harry frowned as he scanned the tables. He saw several girls his age, all with blonde hair, but he dismissed them when he got a better look at their features as he slowly walked through the cafeteria, ignoring the inquisitive and interested looks he received. He supposed that he must have been a sight, a pale, dark-haired boy with a thick overcoat draped over him and an icy cold look in his eyes.

Finally, he spotted a small mane of dirty-blonde hair on one of the tables on his left and he strode over without a second thought, dodging around a table of burly boys and ducking as a girl with a full tray rushed past him, until he had reached the table and had plopped himself down on the seat, aware of the incredulous gaze of the three girls sitting there already.

“Amanda,” greeted Harry, a smile on his face. “It's so nice to see you again.”

The girl in front of him blinked as she squinted at him, and her grey eyes widened with shock and perhaps a bit of fear as she gaped at him, dropping the spoon full of food she had in her hands on the table. Harry let a smirk come over his face as he appraised the girl. She had changed in the three years since he had seen her, her body growing out a bit more. She had grown a lot taller and she seemed to be a little bigger than Harry was. At the moment, her mouth was opening and closing like a fish as she blinked, apparently too startled to speak.

“Amanda, who's this?” One of the other girls, a dainty brunette asked, eying Harry with a small smile on her face, while the other girl, another blonde, giggled softly.

“You know, I never really got his name,” Amanda said faintly, leaning back as she slowly slipped her hand into her robes, most likely going for her wand.

“Oh, Amanda, naughty” The other girl giggled and nudged her brunette friend as the two of them dissolved into secretive giggles, eyeing Amanda and Harry with speculative eyes.

“Okay, you two leave the table,” Harry snapped, a scowl of anger appearing on his face and he glowered at the girls, gesturing them away with his hands. “Go on, scram!”

The girls exchanged mysterious looks with each other and giggled again, their high-pitch voices grating on Harry's nerves, but they stood up with their trays. The brunette gave what she thought was a saucy wink and the two of them sauntered off, still giggling with each other.

“Are you here to kill me?” Amanda asked quietly, a flicker of fear appearing in her eyes as she desperately tried to compose her face and failed miserably. “Because there are a lot of people here and they won't let you get away with it.”

“Does everybody in your family have to ask me that?” Harry muttered to himself, before his face hardened as he stared at Amanda with a serious expression on his face. “Look, you're family is in danger.”

“Er…is that a threat?” Amanda asked slowly, eying Harry carefully.

Harry let out a wearied sigh, rolling his eyes in a mixture of resignation and annoyance.

“You really are your mother's daughter, aren't you?” He snapped and Amanda blinked in confusion. “For starters, my name is Harry, for the record. Now, listen to me. Your father's night job has pissed off a very evil person and he's sworn to kill you and all of your brothers and sisters. Because of some flaky half-arsed debt I owe your family, I'm going to save your lives, even though you all bug the crap out of me.”

“What?” Amanda exclaimed, surprise twisting on her face, but she ducked her head as her classmates stared at her and lowered her voice. “Slow down for a second and say that again!”

“Oh, for fuck's sake,” Harry growled out softly and reached over, clasping one of Amanda's hands and staring in her eyes, his serious icy emerald eyes meeting her emotional grey orbs. “Long story short. There's an evil person who wants to kill you and your entire family. My name is Harry and I'm here to rescue you, and if you quote Star Wars on me, I will slap you.”

Amanda stared at him, annoyance flashing on her features for an instant before his words hit her and she paled. She tugged her hand away from Harry's, her face panicked and her eyes wide with fear.

“What about my family? Are they safe? Did daddy send you?” She rattled off quietly; her grey eyes intense as Harry leant back, already waving off her concerns.

“Your Mom and your brothers and sisters are safe,” Harry said. “I was able to intercept the assassins. Your family lived, the other guys didn't.”

It was at that moment that Amanda's gaze drifted to a small rip in Harry's overcoat and her eyes widened as she saw a small, almost unnoticeable splatter of blood oozing onto the dark material.

“You're bleeding!” She whispered frantically, gesturing at his shoulder with wide eyes.

“Really?” Harry deadpanned. “Because I didn't know people bled after they were shot. Can we get back to you now? Where's your older sister, Molly?”

“She's not here,” Amanda answered slowly, suddenly gazing at Harry with a peculiar expression on her face. “She's gone with the delegation of students to England for some tournament. Did you really get shot saving my family?”

“No, I decided to shoot myself just for the hell of it,” Harry said sarcastically and gave the girl an annoyed frown. “Look, can you stop asking stupid questions so we can leave before Nicodemus' men show up to kill you, and can you tell me why that guy on the other table there is staring at me like he wants to kill me?”

Amanda flicked her gaze to the side and then back again, her expression nonplussed.

“Ex-boyfriend,” She answered absently, before returning her gaze towards Harry as she pushed her lunch tray away, fumbling for the small bag at her side. “Where are we going?”

“For now, my place in Chicago,” Harry answered as the two of them stood up.

“You're still in Chicago?” Amanda blinked in surprise. “I thought that you had left because daddy lived so close.”

“Which is why I didn't leave,” Harry said, frowning as he and Amanda began to walk out of the cafeteria. “Besides, I like my apartment.”

“Hey!” Somebody called out behind them, a rough, annoyed voice, and Harry and Amanda turned around as the large boy who had been glaring at them before approached, his fists clenched and his lips clamped down in possessive anger. “That's my girlfriend, you know?”

“We broke up two days ago,” Amanda spat out angrily, her cheeks blotching with fury, and Harry blinked at the sudden transformation, an approving smile coming over his face. “So, go away Greg!”

“Your boy seems to have anger problems,” Harry said mildly, a wicked smile on his face as he eyed the jealous guy. “I know a dog trainer that can whip that right out of him.”

Amanda snorted but her anger faded as Harry grabbed her arm, dragging her out of the cafeteria amidst a sea of stares and into one of the hallways. Amanda jerked her arm out of his grip and scowled at him, but he just shook his head in amusement, a small smile on his face.

“Well, it looks like the angel has some horns,” Harry said, his voice thick with laughter as they walked down the hallway.

“Oh, shut up,” Amanda muttered, her cheeks suffusing with red as she blushed.

Harry just gave her wicked smile as they turned a corner, but the smile faded as he heard pounding footsteps behind him and he instinctively reached for Meciel's power. His eyes glittered as rage and malevolence flooded into his mind as a roaring cascade of heat and fire seared into him and he spun around, prepared to slaughter any of Nicodemus' goons.

But it was only the boy, Greg, from before, his face set in anger as he stalked forward, his glare landing on Amanda as spittle fell from his mouth as he started shouting at her, fury laced in his voice.

“How could you do that in front of my team-mates?” shouted the boy, his eyes furious. “After everything I did for you! After I helped make you popular and brought you to the parties. You're a sad, little bitch, do you know that? Chasing after this moron only two days after breaking up with me! You must be some kind of little slut…”

It was at this point that Harry felt Amanda flinch and he growled in annoyance, surging forward far quicker than Greg would have expected, his demonic rage granting him strength as adrenaline soared through his veins. With a single deft movement, Harry snapped his hand out, gripped a lock of the blonde boy's hair and slammed the head into the wall. There was a cracking noise as Harry drew back then head, and then slammed it into the wall again, again and again, until there was a bloody smear dripping from the pale-blue paint and Harry let the boy go, who fell to the ground in a sobbing heap, his face a literal mess.

“My god,” Amanda breathed as she stared at the boy in horror, but Harry just grunted as he grabbed her arm and dragged her away from the hallway, turning a corner and approaching the gate-house. “Why did you do that?”

“I dunno. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” Harry shrugged as he let Meciel's power fade away, his mind clearing up, but the sharp satisfaction stayed with him as he entered the gate-house room, not even acknowledging the guard as he exited, returning to the street.

“You could have really hurt him!” Amanda cried out, trying to loosen Harry's firm grip on her arm without much success.

“That was the point,” Harry said in annoyance as Amanda struggled against him. “Now…”

His voice trailed off as he stopped, eying two brown-robed wand-wizards who had just walked out of the restaurant. Although they looked like normal men, each sporting sandy hair and average faces, Harry could sense that something was wrong with them. There was something beneath their surface, something they just felt wrong, and Harry took a deep breath as they approached him, their faces casual but their eyes glinting with something dark.

“Hey, would you know where Amanda Carpenter is?” One of the men asked casually, a polite smile on his face. But the smile faded as he suddenly swivelled his gaze to Harry, his eyes widening as if he could see something about the boy that Harry couldn't.

“He's like the master,” The other man muttered worriedly, his wand flying into his hand as he observed Harry carefully.

“The renegade!” The first man hissed and suddenly his wand appeared in his hand. “Kill him!”

Harry reacted quickly, dragging Amanda down as his wand flew into his hand, his eyes narrowing in anger. He moved just in time as a jet of eerie green light burst from the first man's wand, accompanied by the sound of a powerful roaring wind, and zoomed over their heads.

He came up, his wand flicking in the air as he hurled aside a bolt of cackling yellow power, which slammed into the footpath and dissipated into thin steam, leaving scorch marks one the concrete. An instant later, a shimmering globe of faint-green and blue energy surrounded him as a flash of intense purple light streaked forward from the first man's wand, shattering on the defensive magic in front of Harry.

“Siagrus!” Harry hissed, and the cold energy of wand-magic flowed through him, detectable to Meciel's powerful and enhanced senses. A shimmering pulse of near invisible magic struck the ground near the two brown-robed wizard's feet, both who took a startled step backwards. The ground shuddered as steam arose from it and in no more than a second or two, the concrete was glowing red-hot as it was turned into magma, a searing wave of heat escaping the patch of liquefying rock.

The heat was enough to make the two wizards stagger backwards, clutching their faces for protection and Harry let out a vicious snarl, wanting nothing more than to continue the fight, but he turned around and hoisted Amanda up, who had watched the five-second duel with wide eyes. Clasping her by the arm, he concentrated for a brief instant and then disapparated, taking Amanda with him and leaving the brown-robed wizards alone.

Harry apparated into the training room of his apartment, Amanda clutched tightly on his arm. The minute the two were standing on solid ground, Amanda let out a small gasp, her eyes wide as she loosened her grip on Harry's arm and fell to the floor, panting heavily as her blonde hair fell over her shoulders, covering her face.

“Never apparated before?” Harry asked, watching her suffering with a smile of amusement on his face as he placed his wand back into his robes.

“That was apparition?” Amanda gasped, shaking her head dazedly and staggering back to her feet. “I thought I was going to die, and on that subject, who were they?”

“The evil guy I told you about, they were his assassins,” Harry said bluntly. “They were there to kill you, or worse.”

“Oh,” Amanda said softly, her face paling as the adrenaline left her body and the shock of realising how close to death she came slammed into her. Her legs suddenly felt weak, but she took a deep breath to calm herself and eyed Harry with gratitude. “Thanks.”

“I don't want thanks,” Harry muttered, grimacing as he touched his shoulder wound, noting the blood staining on his overcoat. “I want the debt removed.”

Amanda didn't say anything as she glanced around the apartment, her eyes flickering with interest as she took in the scratched runes in the wooden walls and the larger and smaller circles on the ground. Meanwhile, Harry walked across the training room and opened his bedroom door, entering and carefully taking off his overcoat. He threw it on his bed and unstrapped the sword from his back and the empty gun holster from his hip. Amanda followed him in and her eyes bulged at the luxurious state of his room, an appreciative smile on her face as she took in the fur rugs, the silk sheets, the large bed and the expensive cabinet and polished oak table.

“Wow,” She murmured, impressed at what she was seeing. “This doesn't look like the room of a demon.”

“You'd be surprised,” Harry said absently as he walked over to one of the cabinets. “We do like our comforts.”

“So, why are you helping us?” Amanda asked in curiosity, eyeing Harry as he pulled out a small pouch from his drawer and tossed it on his bed. “You said something about a debt?”

“I have a debt to your father for not killing me, even if that Sanya fellow did stab me,” Harry grumbled, his displeasure at the notion shining in his eyes. “And I have a greater debt to your family for patching me up. I'd like to get rid of it and somehow this seems like the best way.”

“Oh,” Amanda said softly, watching him with a strange expression on her face, one that Harry didn't recognise, before it cleared away and she let out a smile which lit up her entire face. “See, you're not such a bad guy.” She teased.

Harry made a scoffing noise as he sat down on the bed, opening up the small pouch and rummaging through something inside.

“So you say your sister isn't here in American?” He said, and Amanda nodded.

“She's at the British school, Hogwarts,” The blonde girl answered quietly. “She only just left an hour ago.

'Hogwarts is one of the most advanced schools of magic in all of Europe. I believe that it is the same school your parents went to, but I do not know anything about a tournament.' Meciel said quietly in Harry's thoughts.

“So,what are we going to do now?” Amanda asked heavily, and stared at Harry with expectant grey eyes as she awaited his answer.

Harry frowned, the brows on his forehead creasing and didn't answer, apparently deep in thought as he gave the question serious consideration. Now what was he meant to do? He had saved the family and saved the brat. Now he had found out that the last person he needed to warn was on the other side of the world, and a scowl appeared on his face.

Amanda sighed and waved a hand in front of Harry's scowling face, Harry blinking as his startled gaze met hers, irritation brewing in his eyes.

“Hello? I asked you a question.” She said slowly.

“And I'd give you an answer if you would just shut up,” Harry snapped, and focussed his gaze back in the pouch as he found what he wanted.

Amanda watches him, a small smile on her face as she shook her head in amusement.

“You haven't changed much, have you?”

“Again with the talking.” Harry muttered as he pulled out a long, shiny pair of silver tweezers, giving them an experiment jab, before he placed them on his lap and took off his ripped shirt.

Amanda watched, her cheeks suffusing with blood as she put on a bewildered smile.

“Is this…um…a striptease,” She asked, her voice trying and failing to be playful, but Harry didn't seem to notice as he threw the shirt aside and picked up the tweezers.

“No,” Harry said impatiently “One of the men sent to kill your mother shot me and the bullet isn't going to remove itself.”

Amanda's attempts at humour faded away as concern flooded her features and she made to move forward, but Harry waved her away with a hand, throwing an annoyed glare at her.

“Look, this is delicate so sit over there, shut up and let me work,” He said, wincing as he regarded the small, gritty hole in his shoulder. He jerked his head up to the side as he slowly inserted the tweezers into the bullet wounds. “The toilet's that way. If you need to go, go now. We're going as soon as I'm done.”

“Where are we going?” Amanda asked quietly as Harry dug into his bloodied wound, his faced screwed up in concentration as he followed Meciel's advice within his head and began the extraction of the bullets with careful, steady fingers.

“Scotland,” Harry grunted, pulling out a small piece of metal from his shoulder and throwing it to the ground. “Now shut up!”