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Harry Potter and the Paradigm Shift
Chapter 5
By Kinsfire
The pair Apparated into Hogsmeade hand in hand, after Tonks reduced the appearance of her age to roughly sixteen. She settled on her natural white hair and blue eyes, if only because she knew that there was no one living in Hogsmeade who would recognize that look, and damned few Hogwarts professors, either. They made the walk slowly, Harry enjoying the sensation of walking with the girl that he loved around a place he thought of as his real home. He’d stop her occasionally and kiss her for no other reason than that he was happy to be with her, in so many meanings of the word.
Finally, they reached the castle, and were met by Minerva McGonagall. "Albus is waiting for you both," she said, turning and walking toward the Headmaster’s office, making no effort to see if they were following.
Once they had reached the office, McGonagall murmured "Aero" and motioned for them to go up the stairs as they appeared. The door to the office was open, and Dumbledore motioned them inside. "Nymphadora! Harry! Good to see you!"
"Sir," Harry said, nodding. He was still having some problems with Dumbledore, remembering merely a month ago, but having Tonks near him this summer had helped him immeasurably. Being a close relative of Sirius’s, both by blood as a first cousin once removed, and also as someone who simply cared a great deal for the man, she’d been able to cry with him while he mourned, and help him get a proper grasp on the fact that Sirius simply had not been the type of man to sit around the headquarters and do nothing all day, especially after so many years in Azkaban, and that this had strongly influenced his actions. "I owe you an apology for the …"
"Harry, that is in the past," Dumbledore said with a smile as he raised a hand, "and you need trouble yourself no more about it. As I may have said then, I have too many things as it is, and if breaking some of them helped you work through your frustrations, then it was worth it." He motioned around the room. "Besides, nothing happened that a simple Reparo wouldn’t fix." His look became more serious. "I understand you have something of some importance to talk about." It was quite obviously not a question.
"Yes sir," Tonks said. "I found out today a rather disturbing fact about Harry’s childhood, and the fact that the situation in question continued up until the beginning of last summer." She paused, looked over to Harry and reached for his hand. "Harry, from about age ten until last summer, was repeatedly raped by his whale of a cousin, Dudley, and that gang that he hangs out with."
"Last summer? How is that possible? He was being guarded by members of the Order."
"I’m betting we’ll discover that it was either Severus or Dung guarding him," Tonks grumbled. "Dung is about as reliable at a job as Binns is good at keeping students awake in his classes." She looked at Dumbledore. "If, by some happenstance, it’s discovered that any of the rapes happened on Severus’s watch, I’m giving you warning right now that I’m going to disembowel him with a pickle fork, sir."
Albus Dumbledore blinked for a moment at that pronouncement. "I … shall keep that in mind, Nymphadora. I cannot believe that Severus would permit such a thing, whether or not his feelings for the boy are, shall we say, less than charitable. Let me see the list, and I shall compare it against our records, which are scanty at best, I am afraid, but I believe I can match up the guard with some certainty. If it is Mundungus, can I at least request that you not use a pickle fork on him?" he asked with a slight smile on his face.
"Oh, I can guarantee that," Harry said. "I’ll just Legilimens him and make him experience what he caused me to go through. Nothing too major, I think." He could see the worry in Dumbledore’s face. "Oh, don’t worry, I wouldn’t abuse that kind of spell, even if I could cast it. I will insist that you take the person in question off any truly important duties, since they’ll have proven that they weren’t up for what was basically the most important job they could be doing, and that’s not arrogance speaking either. After that prophecy, I have no choice but to believe that I am the most important thing that the Order can be doing. If I don’t defeat Voldemort, the world deals with an immortal maniac." He thought for a moment, and then started to laugh. "Let me rephrase something. I don’t want the Order doing me at all. One specific member, perhaps," he said with a twinkle in his eyes, "but not the entire Order. I am the most important mission, however."
"Agreed," Dumbledore said. He looked at the two of them for a moment and said, "May I speak to both of you, but separately, please?" They met each others eyes and Tonks nodded. Harry stood and walked to the entrance to his office and stepped outside the door, closing it softly behind him, and made a chair to sit on. He concentrated on the spell that he had insisted they cast before Apparating.
#####
"Yes, Albus?" Tonks said. "What can I do for you?"
"What is happening with Harry? How did you discover this information?"
"Simple. As I’m sure your guards on the young man show, I’m there quite a lot. Well, I got Madam Bones to authorise my basically living with Harry for the summer, in order to help him through the grief he was feeling for Sirius. I think I’ve done a fair job of that. He spent a few days railing at the world, and me, and you, and anyone else he could think of, but when he saw that I was crying for the old bastard … sorry, Albus, but I still miss the old dog …"
"That is quite all right, Nymphadora. He was a fine man, and I also miss him."
Tonks blew her nose somewhat loudly. "As I was saying, though, Albus, I helped him through his worst grief for Sirius."
"I notice that he seems to look to you as more than merely a friend."
"Yes," she said, her voice slightly colder.
"Is this a wise thing to allow to happen, Nymphadora? He is but sixteen years of age, and you are but twenty-two."
"It’s between us, Albus, I have to say. It’s no one else’s business except ours, unless it starts to interfere with my job as an Auror, and currently, as per the head of the Department for Magical Law Enforcement, Harry is my assignment. The fact that we happen to have fallen in love is an added bonus."
"Has a sexual element entered the relationship yet?"
"Is that even any of your business, Albus? Don’t try twinkling at me — I know what that twinkle means. You remember that one of the things we Aurors get taught is Occlumency. I should have been teaching him, or any other Auror, not Severus. Harry picked up in about a week what he needed to know — what it took Severus how long to fail to teach him?"
"Be that as it may be, Nymphadora, the question is vital. If such is the case, not only is he in danger, but the person he is with could potentially have their mind opened to Voldemort at the height of passion, and if it is an Order member such as yourself, many plans that we have become open to him, and lives are put at risk. I must ask you again whether or not your relationship has taken a turn to the more intimate."
"And I once again will inform you that whether or not we have is none of your business. You know that the amount of power it would take for you or Severus to read me, even during an orgasm, would burn out my brain." She laughed. "They test that at the Auror academy, did you know that? Wanking is a required skill during Auror training, since you may well be required to get information horizontally on occasion, and you don’t want your mind opened up to your victim … uh, lover if he happens to be a Legilimens."
"Again, be that as it may be. You have twice avoided answering my question. I have no choice but to assume that the answer is actually in the affirmative. I have no choice but to craft a missive to Amelia Bones reporting that you have been engaging in intimacy with an underage wizard, and require that punishment be meted out." He sighed. "I am sorry, Nymphadora, but the fate of the wizarding world lies in the balance."
"I’m sorry, too, Albus. This is going to have effects you’ve never foreseen, and I’m quite certain that you’ll grow to regret it someday, but by then it will be too late to mend fences with Harry. In fact, it may already be too late, once he learns of what you’ve done."
"I can but hope that he will understand my reasons. I regret the necessity, but fear that there is no choice. Ah well, I had so recently repaired everything in this office."
"Somehow, Albus, I think that your things are going to be the least of your worries. Shall I send him in?" she asked calmly.
"Yes," came the sad answer.
#####
Harry stood and vanished the chair and waited for Tonks to leave. With his eyes, he could read her asking him to keep as calm as he could. He nodded and mouthed, "I love you, Tonks," as he entered the headmaster’s office.
"Harry, I am glad you brought the abuse to my attention finally. I understand the desire to protect others, and I …"
"Honestly, sir, let’s cut to the chase. What will be done about it?" Harry sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.
"Well, first we have to be sure who it was. Then he’ll be — well, we have the problem with Obliviating whoever it is, since they have put so much into the Order. They will be dealt with, I can promise you that. Punishment will be difficult, but proper."
Harry nodded at the answer. "So, what else is there to talk about, sir? I can see that you have more to say to me, as uncomfortable as you are in that chair. So let’s get it out in the open where we can work on it together."
Albus slumped forward slightly. "Harry, I don’t know how to say this, but I have some bad news for you."
"Well, that part of it was easy enough," Harry said. "Just say what needs saying, and we’ll go from there. Work for you?"
Dumbledore frowned slightly as he looked at Harry. Harry could see that something was bothering the elderly wizard, but that he didn’t know what the problem actually was. "Yes, I suppose that makes the most sense, Harry," Dumbledore finally responded. "It refers to the relationship you have with Nymphadora Tonks."
"She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me," Harry interjected. "She got me through Sirius’s death — I still mourn for him, but it’s not the deep, shocking, ‘I don’t want to do a thing’ depressed thing I was in at the end of the school year just a few weeks ago. She’s taught me no end of things on how to duel, and trained me to be sneaky with the spells I know." He grinned suddenly. "They’d beat the hell out of me, but I’ll bet I could surprise most of the rest of the students here at the school in a duel."
"Excellent!" Dumbledore replied. "That craftiness will serve you well when you eventually must face Voldemort. However, I must still refer to your relationship with Nymphadora." The elderly wizard sat back and removed his half-moon spectacles, rubbing his eyes for a moment before he slowly returned the spectacles to the bridge of his nose. "As much as it pains me to do so, I must request that the relationship with Nymphadora end, for your own safety, for her safety, and for the safety of the Order."
#####
Tonks stood suddenly as the explosion made the castle shake. She shot through the door into the headmaster’s office, and found herself forced to laugh, despite the seriousness of the situation. There was a tremendously large hole in the wall that led to the outside, while a large number of Albus’s papers, books, and the remains of most of his mysterious little devices were scattered around the room. Albus himself sat behind his desk, his hair standing on end and covered in soot, and his face as well was covered in soot. His eyes blinked twice, slowly, the only movement he could make in his shock. Reminds me of one of those Muggle cartoons Harry showed me these past few weeks. "I warned you, didn’t I, Albus? Now you have a long road ahead of you in order to clean things up. Here in your office and with him as well."
#####
Harry appeared in his room at Number four Privet Drive, Fawkes on his shoulder. "Thanks, Fawkes. I think you’ll want to be getting back soon, though." The phoenix trilled for a moment, and Harry started. "Are you sure about that, Fawkes? I mean …" Fawkes interrupted him with a long trill that sounded almost like a gentle chiding tone, and Harry laughed at the end. "Oh, all right. If you insist." He looked about the room. Quickly pulling out his trunk, he opened it and cast a rather powerful spell on it, making the inside large enough to fit a considerable portion of the room’s furnishings. He said "Pack!" and the armoire gently vomited out its contents into his trunk, the clothes folding on the way to the wizard space contained within the trunk. He repeated the performance with the roll-top desk, since the quills and parchment were real. He carefully performed this around the room, grabbing whatever was his and packing it into the trunk. When it was done, he shook his head and grabbed a notebook that he’d had lying around and wrote a quick note.
He shrank the trunk and stuffed it into a pocket. "Well, it’s time I head to Gringott’s, I guess. Willing to take me there, Fawkes? Your call." With that question asked, the phoenix trilled out what was obviously a laugh and disappeared from Privet Drive, his claws gently grasping Harry’s shoulder.
#####
Tonks,
Sorry, love, but I needed to get moving. I left the room as you built it, rather than cause you a serious splinching problem. I need to leave. Dumbledore’s right, but not for the reasons that he thinks. I’ll see you again at some point, but for now I need to get out of the old bastard’s clutches.
Yeah, Albus, I called you an old bastard, and were it not that I’m writing this to a woman, I’d call you a great deal more. You’ve proven that your word is worthless, at least as far as I’m concerned. I’ll return to the British Isles again when I get proof from people I trust that you’re dead.
Don’t think I’m joking, either.
Goodbye for now, my beautiful Nymph. Good riddance to you, you vile bastard, Dumbledore.
Harry
#####
His appearance in the lobby of Gringott’s caused more than a little surprise, resulting in several goblins immediately pointing rather deadly looking spears at his chest. "Eep," he said quietly, raising his hands to make it quite obvious that he was not making even the slightest move to cause a problem.
They quickly lowered their spears when Fawkes began to trill, seemingly chiding the goblin guards for not noticing that he’d arrived by phoenix travel. One of the goblins that ran the interior of the bank came over to verify that things were completely under control.
"Sorry, it’s my fault, sir," Harry said. "I didn’t realize that Fawkes would take me quite so literally when I asked to come to Gringott’s. I thought he’d bring me to the street outside. I have a lot that needs to be done, and a hideously short time in which to do it. Is there any way in which I … no, that’s not fair to the other patrons who have been waiting a while." He stood in front of the goblin, fidgeting as he obviously tried to think of something.
"I assume that there are those whom you wish to prevent knowing that you are here?" the goblin asked.
"Yeah. Right now, damned near everyone in existence. I’ve … I can explain, but not in a public place."
"Understood, Mister Potter," the goblin murmured quite quietly. He looked up the phoenix on Harry’s shoulder and trilled for a moment, and suddenly Harry was in a nearby office. A few moments later, the goblin he’d been speaking to walked into the office. "Much better. Now, what is the situation? Before you ask, if anyone comes looking for you, the most information that they will receive from us is that you were sighted in the lobby. Now, how may we at Gringott’s help you?"
"I need to leave Great Britain completely, which means that I need to convert my entire vault into Muggle bank cheques."
"Might I ask why you need to leave?"
"Honestly, I’ve had an extremely bad situation crop up, and need to get out from underneath it before it gets out of my control."
"Understood. Have you contemplated where you might go to, Mister Potter?"
Harry sat back in his chair and laughed, slightly hysterically. "Let’s put it this way, sir — I had the situation crop up no more than ten minutes ago at Hogwarts. I haven’t had the time to do much more than contemplate leaving, pack up all my belongings," he said, patting his shirt pocket, "and get here. I’d still be trying to get away from Hogwarts if not for Fawkes here."
"I thought I recognized the headmaster’s phoenix." He was interrupted by Fawkes trilling at him. "Indeed?" The phoenix bobbed its head as if to nod. "I stand corrected. I recognize your phoenix, Mister Potter. While Fawkes is not truly yours, apparently Dumbledore has done something to lose him the loyalty of his most trusted advisor."
"Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice once said," Harry mused. "Forgive me, sir, but I still feel some sense of urgency in regards to this."
The goblin sat back in his chair, obviously thinking for a long moment, before sitting forward again. "Mister Potter, do you trust us?"
"Depends. In regards to money and the secrecy and such involved, of course I do. Brain surgery? Well, you’d have to show me you had some idea of what you were doing." He smiled a weak smile, realizing that the goblin might not find it funny. Honestly, I don’t find it funny — I was just dumb enough to try to lighten the mood.
To his surprise, the goblin sat back in his chair and bellowed out what could only be laughter, which brought several other goblins into the room quickly. They were quickly waved away, but Harry noticed that they all seemed to look at him with some sense of interest. Finally, the goblin he had been talking with recovered enough to speak again. "Mister Potter, forgive me. That is perhaps the most honest opinion any wizard has ever dared to give us, and I found its phrasing to be amazing. I have a suggestion for you, and we can see where it may go."
"Please sir, I’m listening," Harry said, leaning forward eagerly. The goblin smiled at this.
"Go to the United States. We have major branches there in New York City, in Chicago, and in Los Angeles, with many minor branches throughout the nation. I would recommend that you go to the New York branch and leave immediately. I would also contact the Aurors over there, or whatever they call them, since I do not believe that they use the term Auror anymore. Inform them that you are on the run from those who have held you captive for these past several years, and that they should discourage those attempting to find you from gathering further information about you. You should call it political asylum. I can guarantee that they will help you."
"It’s a good idea," Harry said. "My problem is getting there. I’m fairly certain that trying to get across the Atlantic would rather solidly tire Fawkes, and I won’t do that to him. And also I’m quite certain that by the time I reach Heathrow, Dumbledore will have pulled out all the stops to keep me from leaving England. No train, ferry, plane, or ship will be able to take me to anywhere without him knowing."
The goblin grinned a rather wide grin. "Would you be against the concept of being treated as a commodity for a short time, Mister Potter?"
"What else is new?" Harry snorted. "That’s all I’ve been to Dumbledore all these years. Why?"
"If we treat you as valuable goods, due to the secrecy involved, we just need to show that we have a list somewhere of what was shipped. What it would take for Dumbledore to force those records to be released if we choose not to release them would cause him to burn every favour he is owed, and would cause him to incur several debts that he would someday be forced to pay off."
"How long would shipping me take?"
"No more than ten to fifteen minutes travel time, and that assumes that the connection is busy. Most likely considerably faster."
"Then I accept. If I can ever return to England and survive the inevitable confrontation with Moldie, then I’ll do everything within my power to avoid any further Goblin Wars. You guys are treated like crap, and the wizards of the world simply don’t get that." He chuckled. "Besides, History of Magic is boring enough as it is, and after fifteen or more Goblin wars, one forgets whether Marbag was chieftain during the twelfth or thirteenth one."
"Eleventh, as wizards count them. As valid a reason to avoid a war as any — history is a difficult subject to make interesting. I believe you, Mister Potter."
"Please — call me Harry. You’re possibly saving my life, I think you can get away with calling me Harry."
"Call me Rackspit, Harry." He laughed as Harry’s eyes widened. "I see you recognize the name."
"I’ve been talking to the head of the Goblin Confederacy?" Harry asked weakly. "Gods, what a fool I must have sounded."
"Actually no. I found you refreshingly honest." He chuckled. "Shall we work on the paperwork to get you access to your money far more easily across the pond, as you humans say?" He snapped his fingers, and three goblins walked into the room. "Ah, I had forgotten that. It is slightly unusual, but it will be against your best interests to return to Gringott’s for the reading of Sirius Black’s will. Shall I explain to you the terms within his will?" At Harry’s somewhat numb nod, Rackspit flipped through the paperwork and said, "Ah, his name being cleared caused a large number of changes, all for the betterment of the main recipient." He looked up. "That would be you. There are payments to be given to a Remus Lupin, including the renovation of a house in Hogsmeade, a payment to be given to a Nymphadora Tonks and one to her eventual husband, with a particularly rude suggestion from the deceased about finding one. A Hermione Granger has a bequest, as do the individual members of the Weasley family. Narcissa Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange are mentioned under certain conditions being met. All remaining moneys, which are rather considerable, are to go to the main beneficiary, Harry James Potter. You can expect a sizeable sum to become available on the thirty-first, especially since your parents’ will takes effect that day as well." Rackspit looked up. "I do not violate confidentiality to inform you that on your sixteenth birthday you become our largest individual customer. There are businesses with greater sums available, but no single investor."
Harry sat back in his chair, hard. Fawkes chuckled slightly at him, and chirruped in his ear. "Yeah, I know. Sirius and my folks would want me to enjoy it, not mope around." He snorted. "In Sirius’s memory, maybe I ought to build a proper bachelor pad?" He suddenly thought of something. "Is Number twelve Grimmauld Place one of the properties coming to me?" Rackspit nodded. "When the will is read, is there any way to hide who the main beneficiary is?"
"Of course," Rackspit replied, smiling. "I believe that I see where you are going with this. Logic tells me that the property in question is important to Dumbledore in some way. Am I correct in assuming that you wish to hide your identity from them, and forbid them access to any of the Black family properties that you own, come your birthday?"
Harry nodded. "Where do I sign?" he said with a somewhat nasty grin.
"It shall be done as you have asked, Harry. They will be denied access to your properties come your sixteenth birthday. Is there more I can do for you?"
"Actually, yes. I want to give four people unlimited access to my accounts, under the assumption that they will sign a magically binding contract that the information they will be given will stay with them — they can tell no one."
"Quite easy to set up, Harry. Who are they, and what do you wish to say to them?"
"Nymphadora Tonks, Hermione Jane Granger, Ginevra Molly Weasley, and Ronald Bilius Weasley. I want the contract to actually prevent them from telling anyone, if that’s possible."
"Again, easy. You have not had the chance to design magical contracts, have you?" Rackspit chuckled. "Shall I give you parchment to write these messages? The parchments can be set for self-destruction, and the contract will prevent even a Legilimens of Dumbledore’s skill from reading the information." Harry nodded and wrote out his messages to each of them, labelling each of them for its recipient.
"I guess I’m ready," Harry said finally. "I’d like to thank you for your help, Rackspit … what honorific would be appropriate to refer to you by, sir. Just using your name seems disrespectful."
"Another reason we help you, Harry. I speak for all goblins when I refer to you as Goblin-friend. The use of my name is sufficient, but if you feel an honorific is required, then I supposed Mister will do." Rackspit reached out and tapped the area of Harry’s forehead that some called the Third Eye. "There. All goblins will see that and give you proper respect, Harry." He paused. "I hope you do not mind, but we have contacted our New York branch and asked them to contact the American Auror branch. When you step through, you will be given those things you will need to function in America, and then the Aurors will talk to you." Harry began to get a bit worried, but Rackspit calmed him. "We are on better terms with the American wizards, Harry. They listen to us as equals. If you are as serious as I believe you to be, then you would do well to learn the lessons that you do not know the Americans are teaching you."
Harry blinked for a moment, and then laughed. "Do you have Seer blood in you, Rackspit? That was as clear as any prophecy I’ve ever heard."
A goblin came to the door before Rackspit could respond. "Milord? There is an Albus Dumbledore here, requesting an urgent meeting with you."
"Understood. Well, Harry, it is time we part ways for a while. Good luck in the United States." Harry was led out a second door from Rackspit’s office, and into a vault.
"This will be sent in roughly two minutes, milord," the goblin said, bowing.
"Harry," he corrected mildly. "Your people are helping me out of a very sticky situation when you don’t need to. I think any milords are a little out of line — I’m nobody special."
The goblin backed away and closed the door. A minute later, her heard the door opening, and said, "Forget something?"
"No, milord," another goblin said. "Your trip to New York is complete. If you would, please?"
#####
A few minutes later, Harry was sitting in a comfortable Auror’s office in Lower Manhattan, over one hundred stories above the pavement. "Okay, let me see if I have this correct," a man who reminded him extremely strongly of Kingsley Shacklebolt (minus the earring) was saying to him, "You have been forced to live with abusive relatives by Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts?"
"Sir, I’ll take Veritaserum to prove that I’m telling the truth. My parents were murdered by Voldemort when I was fifteen months old, and I was forced to live with my relatives, the Dursleys, until I effectively ran away from home today. If not for the goblins, I’d still be trying to figure out how to escape England. I don’t intend to return to Europe until Dumbledore is dead. By that point, I’ll be an adult, and they won’t be able to force me into anyone’s home to live."
The man chuckled. "Understood. If not for the goblins and that mark that they put on you, you’d still be trying to convince us not to send you back, rather than having me asking you if you wouldn’t mind living with one of our Auror families until the thirty-first, at which point you become the richest mage in England, and also an emancipated minor here in the United States, if you so choose. Certain things you won’t be able to do, like drink or smoke or drive, but beyond that, you’ll effectively be an adult. Won’t even have to go back to school, but I’d recommend that you continue your studies. Other British mages have discovered that there are a lot of concepts taught in our schools that they never learned."
"My recommendation is that you go out to the West Coast. We can see to it that you get tested for the Joshua Norton Technical Institute, and see if they’ll take you as a student. More immediately, while we wait for the thirty-first, we find you a home to stay at, preferably out of the New York City area." He scowled for a moment. "To hell with this." Picking up the telephone, he dialled a number and waited for a moment. "Hello, San-Francisco-Charlie-Watson-speaking, this is New York, Reginald Walker speaking. Yeah, Charlie, long time no. Got a sitch here, and we need your help. How soon can you get here? Okay. Two sugar, heavy cream, right?" He hung up the phone and chuckled. "Went through the academy together. Roomies." He got up, poured a cup of coffee and added the sugar and cream. He held out the cup. A moment later, a tall man that looked amazingly like a Weasley appeared in the office, took the cup that Reginald Walker held out and drank deeply.
"Ah, you still make the best damned office coffee I’ve ever tasted, Reggie. So, what’s up?"
Reggie thumbed in the direction of Harry and gave the newcomer a quick rundown of the situation as he understood it. Charlie Watson simply nodded at every new point, and then said, "Gotcha. We’ll move him to Frisco while you guys give the Brits the run-around for the next few days. Get him a home for the moment, and maybe help him locate a house for himself in the meantime."
Harry interrupted. "If they send Nymphadora Tonks as one of their Aurors, try to get her alone and tell her I’m okay."
"Anything else?" Reginald Walker asked knowingly.
Harry blushed. "I think she’ll understand completely if she realizes that you pulled her aside for just that purpose. Oh, tell her to pull Hermione, Ginny and Ron aside for the same message. I don’t think anyone will have to tell her not to trust Dumbledore."
"Classmates?" Charlie asked.
"If not for Tonks, I’d have given some serious thought to trying to date either of the other two girls. And Ron’s the first friend my age I ever had." Both men’s faces shut down as they heard how blandly and simply Harry made that statement.
"Right," Charlie finally said. "Let’s get you en route to the West Coast. You just keep jumping earlier and earlier. You left England at about three P.M., which got you here at ten A.M., and you’re about to jump three hours earlier. If you can stay awake for another fourteen hours without chemical means, you’ll do loads better on your sleep schedule out there."
"I can see there’s a bunch of small things I need to get used to. ‘Skedyule’ as opposed to the ‘shedyule’ I learned." Harry grinned as he said it.
"Hey, the girls will go crazy for the British accent over here."
"Only girl I want to go crazy over me in any way already has one of her own," Harry replied sadly.
"Sorry," Charlie said. "I have a tendency to open mouth and insert foot a lot."
Harry waved a ‘forget about it’ at the redheaded man. "As for the sleep, insomnia and I are old friends. Fourteen hours I can handle. Shall we head west, then?"
Reginald grinned at them and said, "Go west, young man," and the two disappeared.