Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Give my most heartfelt apologies to Diane Duane and J.K. Rowling if you happen to see them.

A/N: Wow, I love all these reviews…maybe I should write more YW stuff…or maybe reread the books before I write anything actually involving huge amounts of details.

viper676: Yeah, Kit being an idiot is turning into an everyday thing in this story. Hmm…you'd wager 5 bucks on Dairine/Harry? I must remember that for when I figure out where the plot is actually going…

speshul ed: Mmmmhmm. Right. Actually, I don't know if that one's on the list of torments that will befall Harry, but...Thanks, I hope you like this chapter too! (At the risk of looking stupid, what's Get Fuzzy?)

edgy wedgy: Isn't it arsenic in apple seeds? And cyanide in peach pits? Yes, Kit is desperate indeed to go to Dairine. About on the desperation level of Macbeth visiting the weird sisters…And you do need to read the books. Go to your library and find So You Want to be a Wizard by Diane Duane. General appeal to other reviewers: Guys, doesn't he need to read the YW books?

Fireblade K'Chona: Thanks! Kit's got kind of a right to be cranky, wouldn't you say? After all, Harry's coming between him and Nita...and Nita doesn't seem to notice why Kit's so jealous...poor boy.

mornstar: It's very fun. They're normally...well, normal...but add Harry Potter and everything goes down the tubes.

Erin: Revenge is sweet indeed, especially with Harry. Hope you like this...

AnyOtherName: Ah, but Harry doesn't know what's coming, does he? If he were smart he might run, but as it is...well, we'll see what happens.

Jubills543: Thank you, thank you! Hope you enjoy.

Reading Redhead: Yeah, Nita is meant to be pretty darn out of character. How else would she become a Mary Sue, right? Hmm...for Harry to be properly in character I may need him to yell at people more...we'll see.

smile7499: Yes, it's slightly bizarre. But I love tormenting Harry, and Kit needs a little adversity in his life, so...Lord Vodkamort?! Gonna have to read that one...

alex: Nita is so out of character it isn't even funny. But she may get better, depending on whether or not she realizes that Kit is madly in love with her. I haven't decided yet.

RandoMaia: Thanks...I try. Hope you like!

Professional Help

"Help," Dairine said, looking at Kit in disbelief. "You're asking for help from me?" Kit glared at her. He hated rhetorical questions.

Dairine, being her usual maddening self, took her sweet time tidying up her room a little before she would talk about it. Finally she finished cleaning her desk and stood up. She smiled tolerantly at Kit, who was standing right behind her with crossed arms and glowering.

"So," she asked innocently, "is this about the famous Harry Potter?"

Kit gaped. "How did you know?" he demanded.

Dairine snorted. "Do I look that stupid? Nita's been talking about nothing except Mr. Scarface since he showed up the other night." She shook her head. "I mean, really…"

"Then you know what kind of help I need." Kit sat down on the edge of her bed without being asked. "He's got Nita completely duped! She's all ready for him to sweep her off her feet and carry her off to Hogwarts or something."

"I know," Dairine said, sounding supremely unconcerned. "But that's kinda her business, isn't it?" She placed a few more pencils in a coffee can covered with blue construction paper.

Kit shook his head. "You don't understand! You're only her sister, but I'm…"

"Only?!"

"…I'm her partner," he finished glumly. "And then this jerk—" He pounded a fist into the nearest throw pillow.

Dairine grinned, a grin Kit had reason to fear. "You're just jeeeeaaaaalous," she crooned.

"Am not!" Kit said furiously. "It's just—you don't know what it's like!" Dairine shrugged and smirked at him.

At this point Kit remembered that he had come to see Dairine for a reason. "But like I said, I need help," he said after a pause. He looked imploringly up at Dairine.

"I don't know," she said primly, turning her back on him. "After the way you talked to me…"

Kit knew what she was asking for. "Please?" he begged, abandoning all shreds of dignity. "C'mon, Dairine, it's revenge! You love revenge!" It was true. Dairine didn't quite live for revenge, but it was one of her great joys in life.

Meditatively, Dairine turned back and sat on the bed beside him. "Remember, Kit," she said wisely, "revenge is a dish best served cold." Kit wondered whether whoever had made up that proverb knew of the existence of microwave ovens.

"You mean you'll help?" he asked excitedly. Dairine studied him for a moment, then nodded slowly. She went to her desk and grabbed a notebook to scribble down ideas, and the two began to plot Harry's doom.

Meanwhile, Harry Potter was blissfully unaware of the evil that awaited him at the Callahans' house. Nita was obviously reluctant to talk to anyone, even him, so he wandered around, exploring Kit's house. Deep in his walnut-sized brain, he was pondering the problem of Kit. Why was he acting so antagonistic?

Aimlessly, Harry ambled into the living room. Kit's sister—what was her name, Caramel? no accounting for these weird American names—was sprawled on the floor, watching the strangest television program Harry had ever seen.

It got stranger when she started talking back to it. She wasn't using any language he recognized, and he wondered momentarily if she was the crazy sister the Rodriguezes shut up in the attic when company came. The next second, the three-headed figure on the screen said something, unmistakably in response, and Harry began to wonder if he was going crazy. Televisions didn't talk—but no, he should be used to that sort of thing after five years in the wizarding world.

"Um, hi?" he said hesitantly. The girl looked up, and a frighteningly happy expression crossed her face. She said something apologetic-sounding to the figure on the TV screen and hit the power button on the remote, ignoring what sounded like a muffled protest in Japanese from the TV set. Harry stared.

"Hi!" she said, standing up. "I don't know if you really remember me, I'm Kit's sister Carmela." She flashed him a dazzling smile. "And you're Harry Potter."

"Yeah," he murmured, slightly dazed. How could he have forgotten Carmela? "Nice to see you again."

"Yeah." They both looked around the living room for a few seconds, having temporarily run out of small talk. Harry darted small glances at her, unconsciously comparing her to Nita. This visit to America was getting more interesting by the minute.

"So," Carmela said at last. "Have you been out of the house much? Gotten to see any of the sights?"

Harry winced a little. "We went to the moon," he muttered, not wanting to get into details.

Carmela rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Of course, those two would drag you there first," she said disparagingly, as if she thought the moon much too boring to merit such a visit. "But have you been anywhere else?"

"No, I've just been wandering around here," Harry admitted. He didn't want to seem ungrateful for the lack of amusement he had found so far, but she had asked. "It's been a little boring."

Carmela looked at him, her head tipped a little to one side. She thought for a second, then brightened. "I've got just the thing," she announced.

"What?" Harry asked, suddenly a bit apprehensive.

"No visit here is complete without a trip to the mall," Carmela told him happily. Harry blinked.

In her bedroom a few blocks away, Dairine grinned happily at Kit. "This is gonna be the best week ever," she said.

Kit was inclined to agree. The horror of having Harry around would be more than balanced by the torment he and Dairine were going to inflict on him. "Nobody does petty revenge like you, Dairine," he said admiringly.

Dairine bowed modestly. "Hold your applause for after the show, ladies and gentlemen," she told the mostly empty room. "So when should we get started?" She cast a proud glance in the direction of her notebook, which now contained a little less than six pages of evil schemes.

"Hold on," Kit said suddenly, snatching the notebook and paging through their ideas. "Half of these won't work."

"Why not?" Dairine was obviously not happy about this. Neither was Kit, of course, but his common sense was now kicking in full force.

"Wizardry's out," he said glumly. "I already tried something in that line, and Nita will kill me if it happens again. Not to mention the fact that Tom and Carl might notice…"

Dairine sighed a little. "Right. Let me see that." She grabbed the notebook from Kit without waiting for a response and flipped through the pages, crossing out lines here and there. Kit watched her, hoping there would still be plenty of things on the list when she was done.

At last Dairine looked up at him. "Okay, this is what's left." She handed the list to him, and he scanned it quickly. "May I make a suggestion?"

"Of course," Kit answered, still reading. "You're the professional here." Dairine smiled. A little bit of flattery never hurt, especially with someone like Dairine.

"Number twenty-three is particularly effective," Dairine said with a slightly malicious grin. "If you do what I say, it should work like a charm. All you need is…" Kit settled himself in her desk chair, pencil poised to take notes.

Harry gave Carmela a dark look. "I cannot believe I am doing this," he muttered.

"I know," Carmela said with an incredible lack of sympathy, "but it'll work, believe me." She patted his shoulder. "Nobody will even notice you."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Harry said dryly. He was wearing a huge orange baseball cap that entirely covered his unruly black hair and his scar, sunglasses to hide his distinctive green eyes, and a T-shirt with a picture of a squirrel on it—Carmela hadn't mentioned how Kit had come by it, and he hadn't asked. Some stones were better left unturned.

Carmela smiled at him as she half-dragged, half-led him into the mall. "Come on, Harry, it'll be fun. I don't suppose you'd rather be trampled by fangirls?" He had to admit that that was quite low on his priorities list.

"So, remind me again," he said, "what exactly is the point of this trip?" He distinctly heard Carmela snort in disbelief, but he was distracted by the huge crowds of people. Instinctively, he drew back a few steps, expecting someone to yell, "Hey, look over there! It's the boy who lived!" Old habits die hard.

"Silly boy," said Carmela affectionately, dragging him over to the large map of the mall. A large white dot marked the spot where they were standing. "The point is to hang!" Seeing the puzzled look on his face, she elaborated. "Hang. Go to the food court. Watch other people. Look at clothes, maybe even buy something, you know?"

Harry decided that drop-dead gorgeous or not, Carmela was one of the most annoying people he'd ever met in his life. He would much rather be going to the mall with Nita, if he had to go at all. They could go to a movie, maybe, and then ice cream…

Carmela cleared her throat impatiently. "Are you coming or not?" It was obviously a rhetorical question, so Harry reluctantly followed her through what seemed like miles and miles of mall. He was suddenly glad the Dursleys had never cared enough to take him shopping for anything.

After the longest half hour of Harry's life, they stopped and bought huge pretzels as big as Harry's head. Carmela insisted on paying, which was just as well, since Harry normally didn't make a point of carrying dollar bills around. Grateful for some sustenance after the long trek, Harry tore into his pretzel with enthusiasm that would have made Ron proud. They continued walking as they ate.

"So, Harry," Carmela said in a tone of voice he didn't quite like, "is there anyone special in your life?"

Harry choked on a bit of pretzel. "Special?" he repeated, not sure he had heard right. Or if he had heard right, he couldn't possibly have understood. The phrase must have some special American slang meaning.

"Yes, special." Carmela took a bite of her cheese-and-pickle pretzel and wiped her mouth daintily with a napkin. "You know, special. A girlfriend."

There was a long pause at this. Harry wondered why he was being asked this totally pointless question for the second time that day. The disastrous events surrounding the first time didn't bear thinking about.

"I, um," he said intelligently. "Well, really, you know, I kind of—hang on. Why do you want to know?" Harry had a nasty suspicion he already knew why she was asking.

Carmela smiled, and his nasty suspicion was confirmed. "Just wondering," she said, tossing her hair back over her shoulders ostentatiously. "No reason, really."

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry had put his back to the wall by the entrance to a store and had his wand at the ready. It was more or less an instinctive reaction to trouble by now. "Oh no you don't," he hissed at Carmela.

She looked shocked. "Harry, what are you—"

"Not a step closer! Don't come near me!" He was aware that he was yelling, that people were starting to stare, that he really should put his wand away before he got into real trouble. But then, common sense in sticky situations had never been his strong suit.

Carmela was looking slightly desperate. "Come on, Harry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to, now will you please calm down…!" She made a halfhearted grab for the wand, but he wiggled it menacingly and she retreated a few steps.

"I have had enough of this," Harry announced loudly, feeling the familiar senseless rage start to build. It was only his second time to make a scene overseas, and he didn't really feel like stopping yet. "You're all a bunch of wackos! Just because I'm Harry Potter…"

At this point, Carmela really did go for his wand. There was a short tussle, but she quickly emerged victorious. "Nothing to see here, folks," she told the gathering crowd calmly. "Move along, now, move along, nothing to see. We were just on the way to see his therapist." The crowd didn't seem very convinced.

Turning to Harry, Carmela leveled the wand at him. "I cannot believe you blew your cover in public," she muttered at him. "Now march. We're going home."

Harry had only been warming up for a really scathing round of general insulting and screaming. "What if I won't?" he asked, still angry. "You can't use that." Muggles were much easier to deal with than fellow wizards, if only because they couldn't hex him.

Most pieces of wood are quite fearsome by themselves even without being endowed with magical powers, especially if they are jabbed into a sensitive spot on one's arm. Harry yelped in pain and, slightly cowed, allowed himself to be towed out of the mall and toward home at warp speed by a furious Carmela. He couldn't bring himself to imagine what Nita would think of him after this.

Unnoticed by the confused and now slowly dispersing shoppers, a young woman on a bench nearby had pulled out her cell phone and was feverishly punching buttons, talking to herself under her breath.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she fumed. "We are so gonna need a timeslide to cover this one…"

To Harry's relief, Carmela did not announce his little temper tantrum to the whole world once they reached the house. Instead, she marched him firmly to his room, replying to his attempts to get his wand back with, "We'll see once you start behaving yourself, young man." It was amazing, Harry reflected. Twenty minutes earlier he could have sworn she would melt into a puddle of feminine goo if he smiled at her, and now…now she bore a striking resemblance to his uncle Vernon. He would never understand girls.

Any further thoughts on the mysterious nature of girls were driven out of his mind as he opened the door to his room, which was slightly ajar. This seemingly unimportant fact took on a sinister significance as the bucket of molasses came crashing down on his head, followed by a second bucket full of feathers. Harry had never seen this done except in movies and had in fact often wondered if it was as effective in real life.

It was.

Harry stood in the doorway of his room, spluttering slightly, trying to think straight while spitting out bits of feather. Puzzlement as to where Kit could possibly have gotten molasses and feathers on such short notice was followed by a conviction that life was dreadfully unfair, which was followed by grim admiration that Kit had even remembered to spread a tarp in the doorway so that nothing got on the white carpet.

Which was followed by homicidal rage.

After a moment, Harry more or less collected his thoughts and started trying to clean up. He didn't want anyone else to find out about this little fiasco. Oh no, this would be something between him and Kit. This was personal.

This was war.

A/N: Yay! I have no clue whether any of that was actually funny, but I've always wanted to see Harry get molasses and feathers dumped on him. And like Kit said, nobody does petty revenge like Dairine. So…everyone wanted Carmela/Harry…sorry. Carmela bounces back pretty quickly, though, doesn't she? And yes, this may eventually have a plot, the fact that his little scene in the mall will probably need some sort of patch if not actually a timeslide is an indication. The Powers that Be ain't too happy about people who do things like that on a regular basis, are they? So I'll try to keep updating, though I probably won't be able to much once school starts (weep weep sob sob) and in the meantime, please review!