Chinese New Year

“Most of the world has forgotten their heritage,” she said. Midnight had transformed the idyllic countryside into a place where those words were ominous. “We haven’t.”

Bang!

Harry pocketed his wand. He was responsible for the jet of green light that had caved in the door and blew out its hinges, slicing right through any wards. He didn’t prefer the cruder methods, but when pressed for time, they would suffice.

“Listen to me,” said Su Li, blocking Harry from entering the house. “You won’t gain anything from the scene of the murder if you don’t know anything about what Hui did for us.”

“I have the files,” Harry said. “They knew more about the guy than his own mother.”

She shook her head. “Those files don’t even know half of it. They may have the name and residence of every one of his exes, but no Englishman in the DMLE would know the full extent of his duties.”

Su took Harry’s silence as a sign to proceed.

“Before wands came to China,” Su said, “we had the way of the left. In comparison to modern magic, it’s far too costly. Shamans believe in yin and yang. For every magical feat, the spirits take compensation.”

Harry grunted. Much of the world had ancient traditions, but there was a reason they weren’t practiced anymore. He tried his best to suppress any skepticism, though. There was a reason Tom Riddle had travelled the world for wisdoms from times past.

Su glared at him. “The risks are real, Harry. In those days, there were far more gu running around.”

Harry shuddered. Harry had never had to deal with one of the demons personally, but there were stories. History remembered the days when gu had ravaged across China.

“Hui’s gone now,” Su said, averting her eyes, “so you need to be aware of the risks of moving in this world.”

“I’m taking this seriously, Su,” Harry said. “I may not have known the bloke, but just from you’re saying, I already admire him. I promise to do right by him.”

Su examined Harry’s face as if deciphering a particularly confusing Daily Prophet crossword. After a couple moments, deeming whatever she found satisfactory, Su stepped aside.

Harry followed her inside Hui’s residence. “So, this is the scene of the crime, right?”

“It’s where he died, yes,” Su said.

Harry winced. “No need to sugarcoat it, Su,” he said. The room they walked into was sparse. It had a couch and painting. It was a living room that hadn’t seen much life. “Either way, how was his body found? Girlfriend? Family?”

“By his enemies,” Su said. To his disbelief, she let out a short bark of laughter. “I was surprised too, but it makes sense, if you look at it in a certain way. There are different players in the local scene, and Hui checked all of them. When he wasn’t there for long enough, someone had the bright idea to see if his job finally got him killed.”

That sounded… lonely. Harry was no stranger to that type of life, but even for him, it was depressing to hear that adversaries were the only ones that would check in regularly. He pushed out any thoughts of unanswered letters and invitations from Ron and Hermione. That wasn’t the same.

Su walked into the kitchen and gestured to the body. “I made sure that nobody tampered with the evidence. It should be perfectly ready for your examination.”

Harry crouched down on the ground. The body was missing a visible wound. Luckily, Harry wasn’t a muggle. Despite being almost completely assured that it was the work of the killing curse, Harry cast the standard prognostic charms. With each one, a frown was etched deeper into the cast of his face.

“That can’t be right.”

“What?” Su said.

“How long has it been since anyone last saw Hui?” Harry said. “I saw that another Auror met with him around three months ago, right?”

“I can confirm that he was alive as of a month ago,” Su said. “Others claim to have seen him even more recently, but I can’t verify that.”

Harry tilted his head. “Then this is just bizarre. There isn’t any indication of the killing curse. It would’ve needed at least a year to fade. Magic leaves traces, and the stench of Dark Magic is usually overpowering.”

Su shoulders were tight, and her expression radiated her agitation. Harry understood. It had taken him almost a year to discuss Remus’ death without tearing up.

Harry cleared his throat. “I’ll need to bring in someone with a little more expertise than me, I suppose. I could’ve just missed something.”

At the change of topic, Su’s body retreated from its stiff posture and went slack. “That’s good,” she said. “Hopefully you can get this solved as soon as you can.”

“I don’t suppose you have any information on where I could find his killer,” Harry said. It was just a joke, but he could see Su considering it.

“Every two weeks,” Su said, “the local shamans gather. It would be dangerous for you as an Englishmen and someone who only practices wand magic. But it would get you the answers you’re looking for.

“So,” Harry said, “help me understand, because the words just aren’t translating when they go from my ears to my brain. He had a semi-weekly meeting with the people he was trying to stop, the shamans practicing black magic that you’ve said are so dangerous. What did they even talk about?”

“I imagine they played mahjong,” Su said.

Harry laughed incredulously. “I wish I could’ve settled my differences with Voldemort through poker.” When Su flinched at the name, Harry continued, “oh come on, Su. He’s been dead for years.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” she said. “And anyways, I think this is coming from a misunderstanding of how this world operates. There’s a certain respect for the rules among even the dastardliest of practitioners. The way of the left is very traditional, and the people who follow it, even more so.

“And no matter how much he informed your DMLE about, Hui was always a shaman first. That commands respect even if he’s just about the only one that didn’t practice the old ways sinisterly,” she said. “He was the watchdog of that world.”

“And that type of person is exactly who Dark wizards want to eliminate,” Harry said darkly. His experience in the war and as an Auror had proved that, if nothing else.

A couple days later, Harry found himself wandering the center of town. Jixiang county was a wizarding settlement that couldn’t keep up with China’s rapidly expanding muggle population, so other than the rare bar, most places were closed so late. But Harry had been given a location, date, and time and had been told to show up perfectly punctual. Not early, and definitely not late.

Su had been awfully sure about her information, but Harry had seldom seen a building so obviously abandoned in the heart of a town. The skepticism disappeared once he opened the door. Though the place was the opposite of full, it was obviously well cared for.

There was a table with four chairs. Only one was empty. The rest were already filled with what Harry assumed to be a waiter at the side. Harry had to stop from verbally reacting when he caught sight of the man’s face. He had no eyes. Harry stared into the man’s eye sockets, feeling desperately out of place.

There was a deep chuckle in response to Harry’s inability to look away from the waiter. It was the only vampire at the table. The leech wore robes suited to the 1700’s and had a glass filled with something too red to be wine. Vincenzo had famously been exiled from Spain by King Charles V. He’d found a new life in China among the shamans. “Yes, he has no eyes. It was a recent agreement. Our friend here agreed to serve these meetings for a while longer. As a shaman, he was foolish enough to promise me himself, alive or dead, if I offered my assistance in one of his troubles.”

“Don’t worry about Han,” said a perky voice. The dead eyes didn’t befit the face. Xiu didn’t look more than nine years old, but Harry knew that he had entered a world where appearances meant nothing. Though she acted nothing like her age, Su had informed him that Xiu had lived at least seven decades. “I think he enjoys serving us. He doesn’t really add anything to the conversation, so it’s been an improvement. I might not want to let him go even after a couple centuries.” She giggled at the growl from Han.

“Take a seat,” Vincenzo the vampire said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, mouth still dry from the sight of Han. He was offered refreshments, but Harry didn’t drink it until he had run through the standard diagnostics for poison. It was the very least he could do. It caught the notice of the final person seated at their table.

“You should not have come here so ignorant,” a severe woman said sharply. Chu Hua was a witch’s witch with the pointed hat and pitch-black robes that even Professor McGonagall would’ve been jealous of. “Lies have a cost here that none of us intend to suffer. Crude deception is the last of your worries.”

As hard as Harry tried, he couldn’t seem to remember her face. It was like trying to catch hold of a particularly slick handhold while climbing; every time Harry felt that he was close to getting over it, he slipped.

“Let this meeting commence,” said Chu Hua. “I tire of this.”

At the witch’s words, Han began a chant. Harry reflexively reached for his wand before realizing that nobody else had even flinched. He would’ve taken it out anyways if not for Xiu’s reaction. The little Chinese girl’s mocking laugh turned Harry’s cheeks red though he knew intellectually that she was far older than even him.

“Today we come together in good faith, to air our concerns and grievances,” Han said. “I reaffirm that I have come here lacking malicious intent in order to prevent any conflict or violence.”

Every other person in attendance echoed the sentiment and swore to keep the night peaceful. When it was his turn, Harry couldn’t be the only one to skip the oath. Besides, they might’ve put stock in the local tradition of truce that stretched back decades, but Harry didn’t.

“I won’t be the cause of any violence tonight,” Harry grumbled.

At that, Han retreated and left them to their business. “Why is he even necessary,” Harry said. “We aren’t swearing the unbreakable vow. It makes no difference.”

“Those words may not bind you,” Vincenzo said. “But they act as an assurance for us. Newcomers lack our investment in these ideas, so you can skirt rules in ways that would result in our destruction.”

Harry acknowledged her perspective with a hum. To him, it sounded less like a magical oath and more like an old-fashioned treaty. Tradition tied their actions to proprietary far more conveniently than any magic ever could.

“We’re all nice here anyways,” Xiu said with a bright smile. “So just be a good boy, Mister Potter! Or don’t. I’d have fun ripping you apart too.

Her demeanor struck Harry as the oddest of everything he had seen in magical China by far. It was off-putting to see someone so old act like a child. Her innocent voice coupled with the disturbing content of what she said made Harry shudder.

“Don’t worry,” Vincenzo said. “Xiu’s appetite for those things has been dormant for years.”

“It helps that, in this case, we would like to hear what you found, Auror Potter,” said Chu Hua. “The death of Hui has all of us anxious.”

“I’m afraid that I don’t know much more than the fact that he’s dead,” Harry said. “And, given that everyone in this room is on the suspect list, I wouldn’t be able to give you more even if my investigation was more successful.”

“Have you no wits, boy?” Chu Hua said.

“Sorry?” Harry said with a polite smile plastered over his face. She might be a formidable witch, but her attitude was becoming tiresome rather quickly.

Vincenzo coughed. “I think what she is referring to is the ghost Hui presumably left. That should give you a head start. I’m no Auror, but I would have begun there.”

“Even our ghosts don’t perfectly resemble how we were alive, but, even from beyond the grave, that man would be delighted to help you,” Chua Hua said. “Little upstart would do anything that made him feel self-righteous.”

“Not everyone is attached to cheating Death,” Harry said. “I would’ve interviewed his ghost if he left one. I may not have much knowledge about your culture, but I’m not clueless enough to set aside a ghost.”

“That’s not possible!” Xiu’s words were punctuated by Chu Hua’s and Vincenzo’s concerned expressions. Xiu’s face looked almost comical with how upset she was. “Every shaman leaves a ghost. And Hui was one of us.”

“Not good,” Chu Hua said, shaking her head. “Exorcism is what I would assume. If they are willing to risk that level of retaliation, then this matter has become even more serious.”

“Retaliation?” Harry said. “From whom?”

“It’s about balance,” Vincenzo said. “Enough bad karma means that rituals will ruin a shaman, and any deals that they strike will always rebound on them. It’s certainly bold.”

“And stupid,” said Xiu. “Only an outsider would be willing to do something like this.”

“I agree,” Xiu said. “Go get them, Uncle Harry!”

It was nice to hear from Harry’s primary suspects that someone else shouldered the blame. Reading the skepticism in his expression, Vincenzo had something to say.

“We have no reason to mislead you,” Vincenzo said in his cultured drawl. “Hui may have foiled something or the other that all of us have planned at some point. But he was a force of order.”

“Certainly, I would have never desecrated his memory by exorcising his remnant,” Chu Hua said. “It does grave disservice to his family not to mention that what it would do to my magic would be easily detectable.”

Something said in the meeting stirred a part of Harry’s brain that had long laid dormant. It was afternoon the next day when it finally clicked. Hui’s ghost might’ve been exorcised, but Harry had other means of speaking to the man.

These days, Harry always kept the Resurrection Stone on his person. Only a small circle knew about the Hallows, but rumours still got out. Harry had enough on his plate without the potential disaster of the ancient artifacts corrupted to the cause of his enemies. And, as a bonus, the Resurrection Stone would, from time to time, end up saving him time on the job.

Harry sighed and looked down at his palms where it lay. It was just as ugly as the day when he’d first saw it on Dumbledore’s rotted hand. All that could be made of the inscription was a circle inside of a triangle. A jagged crack across the middle of it obscured the line meant to represent the death stick.

He steeled his resolve. The beginning was always the worst. Wild thoughts tugged at him. He could see Sirius one last time. Remus. Tonks. His parents. Harry shoved them aside; he wouldn’t fall to the same temptation that had killed Dumbledore.

“Hui,” Harry said, “come forth.”

The ghostly wizard that appeared in front of him was everything that Harry had been told about. Hui’s glasses were squares that hid his eyebrows, and his dress robes were impeccably professional.

“Englishman?” he said with a slight accent. “I must’ve done something truly heinous to deserve an afterlife that includes your kind.”

“Funny,” said Harry, “but I won’t be dead for a while yet. I am Auror Harry Potter with the DMLE. I’ve called you because I’m investigating your murder, and I don’t have any other leads to follow.”

“Summoned from death?” Hui said, eying Harry with appropriate caution.

“Yup,” Harry said, popping the p. “It’s a long story. And not one we’ll have time for today. I need to know about how you died.”

“It was unexpected,” Hui said. “There was pain and then it was gone along with my life. Speaking frankly, I doubt it was Xiu, Vincenzo, or Chu Hua.”

“I got that feeling from my meeting with them,” Harry said. “I haven’t eliminated them as suspects, but I’m good at reading people and their reactions seemed genuine, especially when they heard that your ghost was exorcised.”

“It was my own carelessness,” Hui said. “I would never have let a tishen kill me twenty years ago.”

At Harry’s obvious confusion, he continued, “Some shamans can connect another fundamentally to objects, creating a tishen. Through that black magic, harm to the tishen is also felt by the wizard it’s connected to. It must have been the work of many months or even years.”

“If not the local power players,” Harry said, “then who else would do something like that?”

“I’m not sure,” Hui said. “All I know is that my most valuable charge went missing, and I was about to begin an investigation. An ancient plant of yarrow, cultivated for centuries, was stolen. And from what the yarrow will be used for, I suspect an outsider is the only possible suspect.”

It could only happen to Harry. Even when he was just investigating murder, it had to go off the rails into secret societies and ancient rituals. Just for once, he’d like a job that went exactly how the briefing told him it would.

“There’s no living memory of the last time a ritual involving those ingredients was invoked,” Hui said, “and for good reason. That was the type of magic liable to spawn gu.”

Harry massaged his forehead with circular motions. What a mess.

***
Harry looked down at his robes. They were of Chinese make but still flattering, not that he would tell Su that. She was the one that had pressed him into attending her New Years celebrations. Su claimed that the Chinese version of the holiday was superior to any British festivities. Never mind that per most calendars it was mid-February. The Chinese wouldn’t let a small detail like that derail tradition.

He should’ve been camping out the ingredient charged to him by Hui, but even Harry couldn’t be anti-social all the time. Su had done a lot for him since he had come to China. He wasn’t going to repay her by being rude.

Deciding that he was just stalling, Harry reached out his hand and knocked on the door hard. In a couple moments, Su answered the door.

“How was the meeting?” she said. “Did it give you any leads?”

“Hello to you too,” said Harry with raised eyebrows. “I wasn’t aware that you’ve took on a role as my handler.”

Su blushed. “Sorry,” she said, “it’s just been stressful waiting on the investigation. I’m glad that you decided to come, Harry. It’s nice to see you again.”

“Unless you join the Auror department as my actual handler, I can’t tell you much Su. Sorry.” A bottle of Ogden’s Finest appeared in Harry’s hands, and he handed it to Su. “I wasn’t sure what to bring until I remembered that a party can always use more Firewhiskey.”

“Harry,” Su said, “I thought I told you this was informal. This is just a get-together of friends. This is the type of vintage for the big party with all the family.”

He shrugged. “I can always take it back.”

“I didn’t say you should do that,” Su said. “Like you said, a party always needs more alcohol. Come on in.”

Harry followed her inside, past the stairs up, to the living room. It seemed as if the others had already arrived.

Once he saw her, Su’s motive for inviting him became transparent. “Cho’s here?” Harry hissed.

“Yeah,” Su said, “she’s a family friend.”

“You couldn’t have mentioned that when you invited me?”

“I didn’t, because we’re all adults now, Harry. Hogwarts was a lifetime ago.”

Adolescent crush and embarrassing teenage relationship aside, Cho was radiant. A flowing cream robe with dragons embroidered on its red edges made her look all woman, even with its traditional cut, and Cho’s smile certainly put any comparisons to her teenage self to rest. The red ribbon tied around her waist was well deserved; there wasn’t a prize greater than Cho in the rest of the country.

Su eyed him appraisingly. “Apparently, it wasn’t that long ago for all of us.”

Before Harry could stammer out a denial, they had reached their destination and Su introduced him. “Everyone, this is Harry.”

Harry stood at attention like he was a raw recruit back at the academy. He pointedly avoided eye contact with Cho, but he put on a smile and nodded to everyone else. “Happy New Year!”

Other than Su and Cho, there were only three others there. There was Mu, who had attended Beauxbatons and was just in China for the holidays like Cho and Su. Then there was Jun and Ai, the couple who had grown up and still lived in China.

Ai was pretty enough to gain Harry’s attention if she was single, but with Cho in the room, he found that he couldn’t focus on any other woman. He did his best to put that out of his mind, because, as Su had said, Hogwarts was best left in the past.

Unfortunately, Su didn’t seem content to let him and Cho move on from it. She continued her game of mahjong with Jun and Ai while pushing Harry towards the table on the other side of the room with Mu and Cho.

“Harry came with gifts!” she said, hoisting up the bottle of Firewhiskey like it was a trophy. “I think we should finish this off to thank him for his generosity.”

“Here here,” Mu said. “I’ll drink to that.”

The novelty of British alcohol didn’t entice Ao or Jun. They preferred Baiju, so Mu took the bottle to the table he was sharing with Cho.

“Potter,” Mu called out. His English was the English of a Frenchman: enunciating vowels and extra sounds that were supposed to remain silent. “I didn’t know you enjoyed travelling.”

Harry shook the other man’s hand, and said, “just Harry is fine, Mu. And I like Britain well enough usually. I’m here on business.”

Mu nodded.

With that, he turned his attention to the other person at the table. Harry had to remind himself that he was an adult. There was no reason to ignore Cho. He gave her a tight smile and greeted her.

“Hi Harry,” Cho said. Her expression was as uncomfortable as Harry imagined his was.

Thankfully, Mu either didn’t care or didn’t pick up on it. He grabbed three shot glasses and was already pouring out the Firewhiskey into them.

“To the New Year,” he said, holding up one of the filled shot glasses.

Cho and Harry echoed his toast a moment later. As soon as he finished, Mu leaned forward.

“I was at Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament, you know,” Mu said. “I was one of the underclassmen that got lucky enough to go, because I was studying under one of the professors.”

“Let me guess,” Cho said. “It was for Transfiguration.”

She laughed at his manic nod.

“You’re interested in Transfiguration?” Harry said.

“I work in Beauxbatons now,” Mu said. “Professor Fournier and I have started a program that accepts students that wish to pursue a Mastery. We’ll be able to accept significantly more than the typical one or two apprentices per Master.”

“That’s admirable,” Harry said. “Hermione went through the process, so I’ve heard a lot about how hard it is for most students to secure a Master’s instruction.”

“Hermione’s married to Ron, right?” said Cho.

“Yeah,” he said. “She just got pregnant, actually.”

“Congratulations!” Mu said. “That calls for another drink.”

Before Harry or Cho could get in a word edgewise, the shots were poured, and really, what was one shot going to do? As Harry tried to breathe rings of fire, he’d never managed to get whiskey tricks down as soundly as Ron, Mu seemed to be gathering himself to say something. Harry kept his face schooled. There was a reason he tried to avoid these settings. The drinking was fine until the other partygoers felt familiar enough to request war stories.

“I’ve always wondered how you managed to get your name into the goblet,” Mu said. “You outsmarted every other underage wizard and witch. Even I tried to enter my name. It didn’t go well, but I tried.”

“He didn’t,” Cho said, voice brittle. “It was a ploy of You-Know-Who. Anyone who knew Harry even a little also knew that it was ludicrous to think he wanted more attention on him.”

“It’s not your fault,” Harry said to Mu. “There was a lot written that was totally false. The truth is that an innocent wizard died for no reason.”

Harry laughed bitterly and poured himself some more firewhiskey. He was not having this conversation without alcohol. “Looking back, it was probably mostly my fault. The Cup we found at the end of the maize was a portkey. Both of us wanted the other to take it, but I was the one who convinced Cedric that we could both take it and be co-champions. Voldemort-“

Cho flinched at the name and Mu grimaced.

“Voldemort,” Harry said with more emphasis, “killed Cedric, and I escaped on dumb luck.”

Cho’s eyes were watery and completely focused on Harry. “It’s not your fault,” she said. “I’m sorry if I ever made you feel that way, Harry. You were a teenager doing his best.”

“It never seems to be enough,” Harry said. “The people around me always seem to die, but I never do.”

Cho reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “It was war, and we were all fully aware of the risks. Without you, even more would have died.”

For the next couple hours, they drank more, but Cho never let go of Harry’s hand. When he finally kissed her at the night’s conclusion it felt natural. The bed that they ended up in next was the natural finale.

Harry woke up to an uncomfortable sensation, something that had never happened to him while in bed with a beautiful woman. It was the same feeling as when Moaning Myrtle had rushed past him to cry in her toilet. A little cold from the passing deceased soul. It had only become more pronounced since Harry had become owner of all three hallows, Master of Death.

The ghost, presumably one of Su’s relatives, was mumbling to herself in Chinese, and doing what Harry thought of as the undead equivalent to pacing.

“Come here,” Harry said, grabbing his wand and putting on robes. His instincts had rarely failed him, and they were screaming. “Lead me to what the commotions about.”

The ghost came to him as if gravity pulled it. Though Harry couldn’t understand a word she said, he could follow. When they arrived at a dark room in the basement, Harry rubbed his eyes, wishing that he’d drunk less the previous night.

Inside the room was Su Li, with the ancient yarrow that Hui was investigating, chanting intensely. Harry burst into the room and yelled, “expelliarmus!”

Su shrieked, and her wand was in Harry’s hands. “Harry,” she said, “it’s not what it looks like.”

“Then explain,” he said, “but don’t take another step.” Harry pointed his wand at her. When he stepped forward, Harry caught notice of something that shocked him. It was a figurine that resembled Hui.

“A tishen?” Harry said. He cut off Su’s panicked explanations by brandishing his wand.

“I did think it was odd that you were so interested in the investigation,” Harry said. He shook his head with disgust. “I thought it was from survivors' guilt. I even felt sorry for you. All of it was just a ploy, wasn’t it? All the things you said about Hui, and how much you stressed that I needed to attend the New Year’s party.”

“It wasn’t all nefarious,” Su said. She got a good look at Harry’s eyes and flinched. “I knew Cho would appreciate your presence,” she said defensively, “and it kept you from staying on the case all night. Any of the other shamans would’ve been able to point you in the right direction after I stole the Feng Shui coins from the Temple last night. It was impossible to stay untraced after that.”

“That’s why you needed to kill Hui,” Harry said. His voice was a growl. “He would’ve sniffed it out in an instant.”

“Hui was a friend I cherished,” Su said. “But blood is thicker than water. I’ll always prioritize my brother. He would’ve understood that. Little Bo’s a squib, Harry, and this ritual is the only thing that’s been known to fix that.”

“All I understand is that you’re a monster,” Harry said. “I just don’t get why you pointed me in the direction of that meeting with the other shamans. It’s what got me started.”

Su closed her eyes. “Only Harry Potter would go to a meeting full of shady nigh immortal beings and come out of it suspecting someone he grew up with at Hogwarts.”

Resigned was how Harry described her to his bosses in the days and weeks later. That was all Su expressed, even when she was carted off to Azkaban.