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The rest of the morning was spent running errands on Diagon alley. Dropping Clan documents at Gringotts, checking the Apothecary for going rates of raw materials they had in possession, and checking all the shops for school robes, supplies, clothes and a new Owl for Jon. Also, they checked on a small Ministry sub office for required documents necessary for Floo connection on Jon's house. While Tonks was writing Charlie at Eyelops, Jon took Harry aside.

"We can't go ranging safely until you have access to your spells, and I need better spell resistant armor until I can defend myself with magic. I was thinking about the Vampire you mentioned who created the Onyx gloves. If we could contact him and also get started on the bracers, we would be better prepared for the Dark Lord's cursed artifacts and more missions."

"Yeah. Ollivander wants us to build our own wands, and he's not going to let us get the phoenix feathers until we're good. And from what I've seen, we could have tested and built dozens until he decides we built enough top notch Ollivander level wands."

"It appears to be a daunting task. I also noticed you did not use the cloak in France." Jon let it hang.

"He knows about the Hallows. Or should I say, the fable of it. If he even suspects my invisibility cloak being one of them, he's going to go nuts."

"That cloak renders you perfectly invisible however, the blood stained robes were weak against water, direct light, and still left a shadow. But another thing happened in France that you did not even realize," Jon smiled.

"What?"

"My knife, and long bow," Jon said softly. "Reacted to my magic and the robes. By inflicting deathblows underneath the robes' influence, they turn invisible when I wish it so."

Jon drew his heavy dagger, and before Harry's eyes, it faded from sight and camouflaged against his current robes.

"Yeah, you shot the Diablo with the bow, and I remembered before... seeing the onyx gauntlet and the bow when you were saddled up with Tonks. Afterwards I didn't see it when you ran off to rescue the hostages."

"I experimented yesterday at home with a bit of the threstral blood. There is a problem," Jon said. "The blood alone does not turn the patch I took from my apprentice robes invisible. I think it needs a mixture of my blood with its blood, under the right circumstances..."

"And? You got it to work?"

"No. I tried with a few small cuts. It is my gut feeling that my blood needs to be unwillingly spilt."

"Ah. That sucks."

"What?"

"Ah, as in, that is a bad turn of luck."

"Right. I will figure it out, eventually."

Tonks came out of the Eyelops. "You guys ready?"

"We need more gear from Mr. Bulistrode," Jon said. "And we need to check on Greyback."

"No problem," Tonks shrugged, setting off. "I have two immortal heroes with me," she winked back at them, her hair spinning about her as she turned on her heel.

"Back again Ms Tonks? Oh and you two fine young gentlemen... it's the entire gang!" Mr. Bulistrode greeted as they stepped in the store. "Always a pleasure. How can we help today?"

"I would like to browse your," Jon thought a moment. "Ah, yes... your level four magical hazard garments. Different from the apprentice robes you sold us before."

"Certainly!" he replied. "This way," he gestured to a large shelf near the fitting rooms.

"I would prefer something with less, fanfare and extra material," Jon said, inspecting the options shown.

"We have some Game wardens and beast-master level gear here," Mr. Bulistrode offered. "But they aren't level four protection. Very good against claws, teeth, and puncture, but not so much magical accidents. The only thing I could think of..." he thought a moment. "Is this," he walked back to the front display and the mannequin there. "Used mostly for display, but..." he laughed as he drew his wand and cast scourgify on the window from the inside. It cleaned some grime off the inside of the window, but dirt on the outside was still blocking the sun from coming in clearly. "Hasn't been a hot seller. It's a relic from the past that nobody appreciates any more. Dueling Robes, level 4 magical hazard with no extra frills and thrills. Simple, and inclusive of an attachable face mask, or if you want, we have separate accessories for a hood and balaclava headpiece. Made in the early sixteenth century; far east. We kept this because it attracts walk in clients. Well, when the windows were cleaned oh so long ago," he laughed. "They never really buy it, but do get something more modern and fashionable when I show them around. We still have a few still in stock."

The robes were a dark brownish grey. The upper portion was cut similar to what a samurai might wear when he was out of armor, except the sleeves weren't as loose and the torso was belted with a heavy cummerbund that was designed with three concentric belts with functional buckles. This cummerbund had sewn in attachments that could be used for adding weapon scabbards or belts. The upper robe had no buttons and widened to an open, high collar. There were tiny metal hooks where buttons should be and matching holes on the opposite side to close. The robe continued lower past the cummerbund and finished just below the calf. The pants was a simple military cut with only mid thigh side pockets as a departure to the stern lines.

Jon folded his arms, inspecting it. Harry was doing the same. Tonks had her head tilted, as if really trying to understand the purpose of the design, but was also intrigued.

"Why would the robes be open in the front like that?" Tonks said, watching the obvious flaw in protection from the middle of the torso to neck.

"It can close with the tiny hooks," Bulistrode said, flicking his wand and the mannequin made a graceful about turn, then went back motionless. He demonstrated the functionality of the hooks, and the open V down the middle came closed and the tall, wide upturned collar now wrapped around the mannequin's ears and jaw. He released the hooks, allowing it to return to its intended state. "But it was sort of a taunt to the opponent, sending a message that he was not afraid to show his chest, a vital weak spot," he said confidently, seemingly knowledgeable about his work.

He grinned, folding his arms, subtly matching Jon's and Harry's pose. "And also because whoever wore this to a duel was the baddest fucker around and didn't give a shit about who was in front of him."

Jon approached the mannequin to get a closer look.

"This design was also popular when used with a chain link chest mail, or light leather armor underneath it," he said offhandedly.

Mr. Bulistrode tilted his head in appreciation of Jon's knowledge. Jon inspected the seemingly useless heavy attachment loops and hard leather guides set at particular spots on the upper back, third rib, lower back and the extra padded material under both shoulders.

"Even may accommodate for outer chest plate, wait...is this a ..." Jon eyes opened in excitement, then he was contemplative once again.

After a long pause, Jon nodded in satisfaction. The sturdy loops and guides on the back were designed to attach either a heavy sword scabbard across the back, or lighter dual short swords. The guides on the forearms allowed heavy vambraces to be equipped. That, alongside the shoulder straps, meant that full curaiss could be dorn over the ensemble. Magical robes that accommodated either light leather armor or chainmail underneath, or if inclined; heavy plate on top. Excellent.

The designers knew what they were doing. "What is the price?" Jon asked.

"This is an antique, but as you can see," Bulistrode advised, not reaching the price pitch as yet. He showed off the newness and sturdiness of the garb, still like brand new. "Whatever charms the designers did is permanent, these level four robes don't decay like any of the regulars."

Mr. Bulistrode stepped back subtly; right out of the gang's personal space, just out of their blind spot. His hands were clasped behind his back, not distracting his potential buyers from making their decision. Mr. Boot was at the sales counter, observing the master salesman at work.

"I have two others in the back, different colours. I believe the all black would suit you better, Jon." He made a motion behind their back towards the sales counter and Mr. Boot ran off to the storage room, bringing back the sets they had in record time. "Come, let's try it on. Probably we can persuade Mr. Potter too if he likes."

"Sure, why not?" Harry said.

"And what about me?" Tonks added, intrigued.

"Oh?" Bulistrode said. With a snap of his fingers Mr. Boot went back in the storage room. "We actually do have one designed for a female duelist, slightly different cut, but maybe the colour would suit you," he said uncertainly. "Ah. Let's try them on, then we shall discuss your options," he flashed another bright smile.

Minutes later Harry was wearing the exact duplicate of what was on the mannequin, Jon was wearing an all black trim version, and Tonks had on a slightly different outfit that was trimmed with blood red fittings on a dark red, almost black, female version without the cummerbund. Hers was closed at the waist with a single belt, and the V at the front was exchanged with an off center button down design that continued down past the waist and flared a bit at the hips and thigh region. It was finished with a slender version of the stern militaristic pants that came with the men's robes.

"This is an unusual color. Almost the color of dried blood," she ventured.

"Ah yes," Bulistrode hesitated. "It was intentionally designed that way. It was inspired by a legendary witch who completed the Joust way back then. She made sure to finish her opponents in the tournament with a spell that allowed their blood to be splattered on her, so by the time she made it to the finals, her entire ensemble was covered in dried blood, and only her latest kill was still fresh." He touched the highlighted trim on the design. "The only witch to have won it unscathed and completely sane at the end, if my memory serves me right."

"Really?" Tonks said, looking this way and that in the mirror. "You remember her name?"

"Not her given name, no," he replied. "But she was known as the Red Ora Kill after her victory. A seer who gave her King bad tidings and he banished her into the tournament, as a roundabout way of execution. Wizards were superstitious of killing seers directly, said it was bad luck. Guess he thought she would be easy food for the Hit Wizards who risk their lives in search for glory in that deadly tournament."

"Red Ora Kill?" she said softly. It had to be coincidence that Harry thought up of the name Red Dora and then this man gives her some history on a witch called that.

Or was it? Tonks stared at Harry.

Harry looked worried. He was seeing her expressive face do the range of emotions associated with being told of a prophecy. "Just a coincidence! If it's one thing I am not, and that's a seer!"

Tonks looked at both of the boys, her expression unsure. She sighed, once again watching herself in the mirror.

"This entire outfit feels so light," she said. "It's amazing." She put her wand in the robe pocket. She flicked it out and slipped it back in, getting a feel for the height and speed of quick draw. "The pocket is perfect, and the right angle to keep the wand from easily falling out."

"Mild attachment charm to wood is enchanted in the pocket liner. Touch of your skin breaks the charm," Bulistrode explained. "This is the real thing, not the crap Warlock's Weekly like to advertise."

Harry felt a bit exposed with the deep open V of the design showing off his under jersey, but the buckles and whole design of the Robes made motion feel more dynamic, and not flamboyant and eye catching as loose wizard robes did. He had the feeling that you were able to do all sorts of maneuvers, unrestricted, with these robes. He looked across to Jon, who was doing something peculiar with his left arm. He did not fully put it through the sleeves, instead, his arm was bent at the elbow, resting in the roomy armhole as if it were in a sling.

"Stylish. Some of the folk north of wall would have loved this," Jon uttered to himself, appreciating the robes. "With elements of practicality and military foresight in the design." He shrugged out of the robe with his left arm with a flourish, revealing his wiry arm underneath. He grinned at Harry. He slipped it back on. "Mr. Ollivander would love to see that motion in action."

"What?" Harry asked, lost.

"Don't worry, you shall see. Soon. So," he turned towards Mr. Bulistrode. "You have convinced me. Did he convince the two of you?" he asked Harry and Tonks.

Harry nodded, and Tonks sighed.

"This is going to cost a vault," Tonks said softly. "So. Price?"

"We can work out a payment plan, if necessary," Mr. Bulistrode said amicably.

"Price?" Tonks said again.

"Two thousand each. And forty galleons more if you prefer the balaclava, and hood attachments."

"And what about the weapon harnesses?" Jon asked.

"Lord Black, you know your stuff. I'll throw them in if you want for thirty," he added dubiously. "Not that a wizard would have need for them, but if you want the full thing... sure! Why not?"

"I remember you saying you have the index and middle finger cutout level 4 gloves the last time I was here," Tonks said. "Those gloves have an enchantment to protect the exposed fingers like the rest of the hand, but allow for the same touch feel, right?"

"Correct, twenty for a pair."

"I'll take three pairs. And the robes. With balaclava. Do I get a scarf too?" she asked.

Mr. Bulistrode laughed. "How did you know about that?"

"A Red witch who likes to splatter blood on herself must have had something to wipe it off her face. Also, this outfit needs one," she said, modeling herself in front the mirror.

"You are quite perceptive," he said. "I have the scarf, but it has no protective enhancements whatsoever. Except for being non-stainable, it is just a simple scarf. It is however, the Ora Kill's original scarf, and it is a bit pricey as it's an ancient antique. Eight hundred galleons for it." He brought a chest out of the back room. He took out a set of keys from his pocket and opened the lock. In it was a scarf the same dark red colour as the robes.

"Wow. How do you know it's the original?"

"A Blood Runic board will tell you the names of all the victims of the tournament who were defeated by her. Still works up to this day. Their names also check out in the history books written about those tournaments. You would need to be in the Arithmancy Guild to get access to Librarians with that information. I can't remember the name, but it held most, if not all the records of the Joust Tournament. That guild would be able to help you."

"We'll take them," Harry said. Mr. Bulistrode nodded, his hands on his hips.

Mr. Boot punched the air behind them in victory, silent as a wraith.

The trio removed the gear and Mr. Boot brought their accessories and even included enchanted shrinkable mannequins to mount them on when they were not in use.

"These robes are very easy to clean with soap and water. If you need to clean it with magic, use Aguamenti instead of scourgify. Scourgify would probably leave you with a nasty feedback sting. Scrubbing brush and hang out in the sun to dry and they'll be fine." Mr. Bulistrode wrote up their bills. All three cut their fingers and paid using the Gringotts chalkboard.

"I noticed these circular stitch spots that seems to be a place for a patch," Harry pointed at the left sleeve by the forearm and on both the shoulders.

"Yes, that is for standards or house banners to be placed by the user. The patches are included in the box. You can attach any coat of arms or banner you want on the patch and it would integrate into the robes with simple stitching."

"We need to go a bit further and we would pass back for these things," Tonks said. The trio said their goodbyes and headed further down Knocturn towards the Hunter's Guild.

As they walked across the room, the other patrons grew quiet. Jon was immediately on alert. Tonks slipped out her wand. Harry did the same.

"Its them," one of the wizards proclaimed from a bar stool, standing to face them. "The Crows."

"Hail," another man said in congratulations. He sounded drunk. "Victory is yours, rookies."

"Aye," another man said. There was a general rise in clamour and good humor in their voices. Some tipped their drinks to them. The noise level began to ascend.

Greyback began hitting an old cowbell behind the counter. "Come on lads, if we're going to fucking do it, let's do it properly. Get on yer feet, fellow hunters. Front and center Sweet'ums, Black, and Glasses boy."

Jon and the others came forward and accepted the tumblers of liquor presented to them by Greyback.

Greyback drew his wand, and crossed both arms across his chest in a X, wand pointing to the ceiling, just as Madame Maxime did. The other wizards in the establishment did the same, even the drunk ones who were trying to maintain balance.

"Victory belongs to the Crow's Vambrace. Glory to the guild!" came a chant.

The trio returned the salute. "Glory to the guild!"

"That's right fuckers!" Greyback declared, taking a shot from his tumbler. Tonks drained her glass. Jon watched Harry, then the alcohol in suspicion for a moment. Both of them shrugged, then drained their tumblers. Harry's twelve year old chest burned. He offered Jon his fist, and he connected, both young men coughing.

"You guys lit up the fucking place down there! When Bogrod sent the commission statement we couldn't believe it. And an immediate rank boost recommendation from Maxime herself. For rookies you guys don't fucking play!"

"Oh?" Tonks said. "What did the statement say?"

"Eight thousand galleons commission, and change," Greyback stated. "Some S rank clans don't even get that in an entire hunting season, and you got that in a day?" Greyback laughed, pouring another round. "What did you do, end world hunger?"

"That's just for the morning job. We got some more coming in," Tonks said winking at her lads. "Should be processed today. A three thousand commission direct, with trickle on commission over time," she said airily.

"You're fucking with me right."

"No, she is not," Jon said.

"Another round on tha house lads!" Greyback declared, and he flicked his wand and rows of tumblers assembled on the counter. He grabbed two bottles and deftly flipped them upside down and expertly drained them over the glasses, spilling nothing. There was another loud cheer as the drinks magically appeared in front of the patrons. "You went from unranked to B class in a day. You guys are serious."

Harry and Jon shrugged. Tonks beamed with pride.

"What do you know of Michael MacMillan?" Jon asked a few minutes later when Greyback was fully in a good mood.

"Who?" Greyback asked again.

"MacMillan," Jon repeated. "Young American. Probably late twenties," he explained.

"Never heard of him." Greyback answered. Jon looked at Tonks and Harry with a dumbfounded expression. Harry frowned.

"Never?" Harry said. "He was at Estagal. There was some confusion with the Reaper's Scythe."

"The Reapers got a false alarm a while back, as far as I know," Greyback pulled his beard. "They got the call out fee, but then they got intel on arrival that the boars were eradicated. They came back to London the next day, with documents and shit. They've been sent to Argentina last month on another mission."

Harry cursed. He knew something was up with the whole Marketplace setting.

"You know of any wizard who can ride a horse competently, and recover from the Cruciatus curse overnight?"

"Hm. There was some rumours of a cowboy wizard who was ridiculously tough, as in, magic didn't affect him as it did normal wizards. Spell effects didn't last long on him at all. But that was still years ago when he was imprisoned for fraud in Spain. Seems he used to swindle people's property and flip it."

"Sell it to who?"

"Mainly relatives of Thomas's family who lived in nothern Spain, and some other purebloods on the continent. I think he got locked up because Aurors caught up with the original owners who were befuddled and signed over properties without being paid."

"Did you remember his name?" Harry asked.

"Only by one of his codenames. Triad, I think it was. Or was it Trayard, something like that. Locked up in the Celda De Inferno. Spain's version of Azkaban the last I heard of him."

"If we wanted to say, follow up on his prison sentence, how do we do that?" Tonks asked, all cheer gone from her voice.

"You might need to go down there and see for yourself at the prison. Or better yet, check with a Spaniard registered Hit Wizard clan first. Aurors generally don't like foreign wizards looking for people on their turf. Gets the wand fingers itchy. Especially B ranked clans and higher. Most Auror Corps are alerted when high ranking clans step foot on their soil. And we do jobs for profit, not to cause wars, or get disappeared, if you know what I mean. Keep your work clean, and we would have plenty more days like this," Greyback indicated the happy bar.

"What if we catch him... if theoretically he comes to England?" Harry said.

"Better you get concrete info on a missing convict. So at least you can get paid if theoretically, he escaped, and theoretically just happens to come here and you theoretically catch an international bounty. International Bounty is what the AK guild at SouthHampton specialize in. We call them the GloryHounds. I think they call themselves that too, to be honest."

"So why are they named the AK Hunter's guild?" Jon asked.

"Obviously, they kill first and collect bounty based on deceased rates. Who captures wizards and transports them alive? Way too dangerous. Only Rooks try that. Hunting Wanted wizards is pretty dangerous, but the flipside is, if the hunters get killed there is no public outrage. They're paid to do the work, innit? Kind of like Aurors, but everyone thinks those guys are heros. When it gets hot they subcontract hit wizards for extraction of targets in foreign lands. Easier to deny accountability when things go down wrong. Nobody cares about mercs dying, except other mercs, that is. The Aurors contractor departments just hire the next clan willing and able."

"Meat for the grinder," Jon said.

"You got that right, Black. There is always some young buck willing and able to die young. Aurors can't be seen dying all the time, looks bad on the government."

Harry grimaced. "Keep this conversation under wraps Greyback. How much is that going to cost?"

"A date?" he looked at Tonks with his best good boy face.

"No," she said at once.

"Ah. Well, worth a try, anyway," he said good naturedly. "A pint of threstral blood should do. And that is just a gift, not payment for my silence. I will forget this convo as my gift in return. My silence is free, it cannot be bought, or sold. But I do like presents. We good?" Greyback offered his hand to Harry. Harry shook it.

"You shall have it," Harry confirmed.

"Happy hunting then," Greyback nodded. "Let me know how it goes, if you need a contact down in Spain."

"Will do," Harry said.

They left the guild. The trio picked up their robes and dropped it off at Jon's place. Jon and Harry walked in silence as the three of them went to the cafe to get lunch.

"What are you guys thinking? MacMillan is behind the two attacks?" Tonks asked.

"Could be. But he seems more of a lackey than the mastermind type."

"Hide in plain sight," Jon said simply.

"You think Estagal is in danger?" Harry asked.

"Yes. No. I am not sure. I think he is right now solely interested in me, Mr Black."

"Fuck." Tonks said, slapping her forehead.

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"He might have heard the conversation I had with Penelope. I told her who you were, Harry, and how you guys joke about being Immortal. We were definitely in earshot of him. He played it off cool, when we were on the site in the morning, but he changed as soon as he sat down at breakfast. He was all, humble like and persuasive, trying to convince us to let him join."

Harry remembered the memories that Dumbledore showed him of young Tom Riddle in the pensieve. How he convinced Hepzibah Smith over time to show him the Cup. It did sort of remind him of Michael's performance that morning.

"Jon, what do you think?"

"We invite him. And we capture him. It's that simple."

"It's not, what if he is innocent and his story is true?" Tonks said.

Jon had no answer.

"Having a dark wizard targeting us is not cool," Tonks said. "I will have to get information from the Ministry. Or their ministry. My application permit gets me access to research material on legal cases. Maybe I can dig up some stuff."

"Sounds good," Jon said, flexing his hand.

"What is it?" Harry said.

"He was impressed about the twin light ball spell not affecting me. I saw it in his mannerisms. He wants to know how I survived it. Most people were like Mistress Tonks, who was amazed and unbelieving that I was unscathed, and were happy that I survived. He wanted the knowledge of the skill. Thinking back, I believe he had no genuine interest in actually joining the clan."

Harry nodded.

"If what Tonks said is right and he could have overheard them, what he really wants secrets to your 'Immortality'," Harry deduced.

"But that's just a joke. Right?" Tonks countered.

"Right, but what you told Penelope convinced him otherwise. That's how these types work. They piece together things, and latch on to an idea, obsessed."

Tonks stared at Harry. "You sound like you know this first hand."

Harry returned the stare. "I read stuff. In the library. Sometimes," he shrugged.

"Oh. If you say so," Tonks said, eating her rolls.

"Yeah. Nobody is immortal."

"Valar Morghulis," Jon said offhandedly.

"What does that mean?" Both Harry and Tonks said.

"All men must die."

AN: Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you think so far in the review box. It seems my Snow is not up to scratch. What do you say?

Until we meet again

TDLN