Harry studied the rough-faced man for a moment, narrowing his eyes. Then, charmingly, he smiled. "It'll be our pleasure, sir. But do let me inquire: what is the basis of your interest in me and my people?"
"You're English, aren't you?" the gruff man, Price, asked, smiling tightly. "You might be interested to know that the tape the F.B.I. received explaining the terms of the release of our kidnapped senator, Charles Filmore, was recorded by someone with a British accent. One can only assume that you are here, officially, to investigate Senator Filmore's ongoing abduction, not to mention the matter of our relocated skyscraper. The newspeople and the general public may buy the story about little green men from the Andromeda galaxy, but we in the Magical Integration Bureau, well… we tend to be a suspicious bunch."
Harry nodded. "As would I, let me assure you. I welcome your assistance and collaboration. For now, though, might I ask, just out of curiosity, what the purported terms of Senator Filmore's release are?"
"That's confidential, of course," Price answered apologetically. "Fortunately, the F.B.I. believes the tape is a prank. I myself know very little about it except that the prevailing view around the Bureau is that we do not negotiate with terrorists—alien, British, or otherwise."
Harry seemed to accept this. "I look forward to hearing from your office, then, Mr. Price. Now if you will excuse us, it is getting rather late and we still have some distance to go if I am not mistaken."
Price bowed slightly and spread his arms. "Mi casa es su casa," he replied. "Enjoy your travels. And welcome to America."
"Hey chief," Trumble said, frowning at the little note in his hands, "it says here we're supposed to escort Mr. Potter and his group for the rest of the trip. You didn't read the whole thing."
"Is that so?" Dunst said with deliberate emphasis. "Well, silly me."
In the distance, the huff and screech of an approaching train grew. Shortly, a headlight appeared around the bend of the tracks, slowing as it approached.
James sighed and looked up. High overhead, one of the Chinese delivery wizards took off from the wooden platform that surrounded the brightly lit restaurant. He circled economically around the extinct smokestacks, dipped down into the shadow of the factory, and swooped toward the Zephyr. A moment later, he hovered in front of James, Ralph, and Lucy, consulting a handwritten bill.
"You order three Happy Emperor Family Combo?" he said, glancing up at the three of them. "You owe me sixty-six seventy-five."
"Here you go," Harry said, handing the man a small handful of gold coins. Zane took the paper bag from the basket on the end of the delivery wizard's broom and peered into it.
"Cool!" he said. "Magic fortune cookies!"
"Where's my egg roll?" Ralph asked, leaning forward and sniffing at the open bag. Lights flickered within it and James was mildly amused to see lit sparklers inside the bag, stuck into the tops of a variety of white cartons and boxes.
"What this kinda money?" the delivery wizard said, peering suspiciously at the Galleons in his hand. "This not real money. You trick me?"
"It's real," Franklyn said wearily. "European Galleons are still legal tender in this country, even though you see fewer and fewer of them these days."
The Chinese wizard regarded Franklyn doubtfully. A moment later, he pocketed the Galleons. "Fine fine. But no change. Don't know exchange rate."
"Call it a tip," Harry smiled, accepting a paper bag of crab rangoon from Zane.
The Chinese wizard nodded, doffed his red pillbox cap, turned, and swooped away. In the darkness beyond the Zephyr, the wizarding policemen, Dunst and Trumble, stepped off the tracks, approaching their black and yellow police brooms. Further away, the agents from the Magical Integration Bureau climbed down the embankment toward a nondescript black car. Ralph's father took the delivery sack from Zane and climbed into the train to distribute it around. Harry and the rest of the adults stepped aside into the weeds that bordered the outside of the tracks as the second train chugged to a stop next to the Zephyr.
Ralph munched his egg roll thoughtfully. "If I'm not mistaken," he said, watching the men in the dark suits as they started their car, "those two are Muggles."
"You nailed it, Ralphinator," Zane said, sighing. "The Bureau is part of the Muggle F.B.I., only super top-secret. The president doesn't even find out about them unless he absolutely has to. They're a little creepy and intense, but it's all part of the deal."
"What deal is that?" James asked.
Zane leaned against the end of the Zephyr and waved one of the sparklers from the delivery sack. "The government here was a lot more involved with the wizarding world, way back in the day. The Muggle leaders who knew about the magical community were suspicious of them, even though a lot of the witches and wizards were their friends and helpers. Franklyn can explain it better if you want him to, but basically, they built protections into the original laws that governed the coexistence of the magical and Muggle worlds. Those guys in the suits… they're one of those protections."
Lucy frowned at the black car as it drove serenely away, its lights off in the darkness. "Do they have… what's it called… jurisdiction over us?"
Zane shrugged slowly and shook his head, as if he wasn't really sure.
"All I know," Ralph commented, climbing to his feet, "is that we were lucky to have that witch in our compartment. The one that pegged all those guys on the brooms. Talk about your wandless magic."
Zane screwed up his face thoughtfully. "Was she part of your group?"
"I met her once before," James admitted. "In the hallway back at the Aquapolis. She's… curious."
Lucy raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean 'curious'?"
James shrugged. "She knew things about me, that's all. She said it was because we Potters are famous."
"I suspect there's more to it than that," Lucy said, still looking closely at James. "Otherwise, you wouldn't call her curious."
Ralph raised his eyebrows. "Well, there was the bit where she performed some dead serious magic without any wand in her hand," he proclaimed. "I mean, first Petra, and now some unknown lady. I'm starting to feel like I'm missing out on a trend."
"Probably you just couldn't see her wand," Lucy said dismissively. "It was dark in there, and there was a lot going on."
"I saw her raise her left hand and point," Zane replied. "There was no wand there, I promise you."
"Yes," Lucy nodded, her face merely inquiring, "but did you see her right hand?"
Zane thought about it, but before he could answer, James spoke up again. "What about when we were about to crash into the overpass? I was sure the train wasn't going to make the jump, but then up we went, like we suddenly sprouted wings. Maybe it was that witch again! Maybe she levitated the train!"
Lucy shook her head. "You can't levitate yourself, James, or anything you happen to be riding in. It'd be like trying to pick yourself up by your own feet. It's one of the laws of magical dynamics."