Written for QLFC S3 Round 13
... it was supposed to be better, but I guess it'll have to do
Harry swung in through the doorway and peered into the kitchen, where Sirius was making dinner for the night. It was a hot, muggy summer afternoon and Harry— Harry had something to do.
"Sirius," he declared. "I'm going to have an adventure."
"Sure, have fun kiddo," Sirius said, not even looking up from where he was chopping onions.
Harry pursed his lips and shook his head. "I'm going to have an adventure," he repeated. "I'm going on a road trip with Ron and Hermione."
Sirius paused, set down the knife, and turned around. His dark eyes appraised Harry for moment, searching his face for something. Harry wasn't sure what, but he held his breath and resisted the urge to cross his fingers for good luck.
He knew his parents had died in a car crash. He knew it was a sensitive topic not only for Sirius, but for Remus too, who popped by every now and then to see how the two of them were doing. He knew all this, but it was the summer after graduation and he needed this time alone with his friends before coming back.
Sirius' face softened, and an easy grin spread across his face.
"Well, alright. God knows how much more trouble your dad and I got into when we were kids. I don't see the harm."
Harry beamed at that.
"You've got the money from the trust fund right? Make sure you transfer enough into your account and enough in cash so you won't run out. And make sure you hide some of that in weird places in case you come across some weird people. Pack densely too! With your sleeping bag—"
"Sirius!" Harry loudly interrupted. "I'll be fine, really."
Sirius smiled at that and ruffled his hair. "I guess you're all grown up now, aren't you."
Harry smiled at that, somewhat embarrassed but pleased overall.
He didn't mention anything when he noticed Sirius' eyes getting a little glossy, nor did he argue when he was unceremoniously shooed out of the kitchen.
...
The last of the bags were tossed into the back of the vehicle by Ron, then straightened by Harry who had a Thing about being neat. (They didn't talk about the Thing very much, as the cause was from way back when he lived with the Dursley's, before Sirius had appeared to wrestle him into his custody.)
Hermione finished her preparations up front and together, the three of them stood back and appraised her van. Not only was it an dull, ugly orange colour, it was also old. The A/C sputtered out some foul smelling air at them, if it worked at all; the radio was scratchy and bad. The CD player worked— barely, and yet Hermione loved it anyways. She proudly called it Crookshanks.
Harry didn't, and would never, understand. Ron claimed the car hated him.
Sirius came out the front door of Hermione's house, where he'd been chatting with her parents and Ron's parents while they packed.
"All set?" he asked. "Got everything?"
"We've got Hermione," Ron snorted. "I'm pretty sure we have double of everything."
"We do not," Hermione said, affronted. Paused. "Probably."
"And there we have it."
Harry saw Hermione's lip curl up into a barely there smile, before she hid it with a huff. She was doing that more and more, Harry thought. He supposed she didn't want Ron to know she found him funny, after telling him he had the emotional capability of a spoon.
She slid into the seat, and Harry swung around to claim shotgun before Ron could. Ron yelled out indignantly as both their doors shut in unison. He climbed into the backseat, grumbling under his breath about how his legs would cramp because there wasn't enough space.
Harry ignored him and rolled down the window.
"We're all ready now. I guess we'll be going?"
Sirius nodded at that and sent him a grin. "Have fun, kiddo."
"Make sure you guys all eat enough," Mrs. Weasley fretfully piped up from just behind Sirius. "And take care, now!"
"We will!"
The car backed smoothly out of the driveway and onto the road, and they were out.
...
"So, where are we going again?" Hermione asked, eyes firmly on the road. "There's a map in the slot next to you Harry."
Harry looked at Ron. Ron looked at Harry.
"I don't know, where are we going?"
"What," Hermione said, so tonelessly that Harry was afraid for his life.
"I've been driving for 4 hours already what do you mean where are we going."
Harry cast a panicked stare at Ron, who simply paled and shook his head. Harry then cast his eye wildly around the surrounding area and lo and behold: an exit to a campground.
There was a god, after all.
"Haha, just kidding," Harry beamed. "Look, the campground! We made it guys. Just that exit."
Hermione's face cleared almost instantly. "Oh, of course. I'll just drive the car in and we can set up the tent and everything. Obviously, we wouldn't be out here without a clear plan."
"...Right," Harry agreed as she drove in, parked next to the only other car, and unlocked the doors.
Ron hung back with Harry as they started unloading the tent and sleeping bags.
"Nice save, mate."
Harry smiled wanly back. "That was a close one."
In terms of detours, this one wasn't too bad. The sun was shining and the temperature was great. Harry thought he even heard the singing tones of a river somewhere, so they could probably get clean and have fun at the same time.
...
"I regret this," came Ron's plaintive voice. "I don't want this anymore. Somebody take me from this cruel, cruel, world."
Hermione smothered his face with her pillow, and his voice petered out.
Earlier, after the river, after the meal, after the mess of the tent that Harry managed to muscle into some semblance of normalcy, they had settled down for the night. "Settled down", that is, in that at three in the morning, Harry and Hermione were woken up by a high pitched shriek.
"There's a spider on my face! Get it off!" Ron had screamed. He refused to stay in the tent after that, and they all moved into the back of the van at his insistence. Needless to say, three teenagers-verging-on adults did not fit very well in a single trunk. Harry could feel Ron's foot jabbing into his ribs, and Hermione's elbow pushing against his head and he sighed very deeply.
It was a very long night, to say the very least.
(In the morning, Harry's neck was sore and aching, but his hand was entwined with Hermione and his head was cushioned against Ron's chest so he just smiled and drifted back to sleep.)
…
The morning found the three of them huddling in a diner in the middle of nowhere. They had found a tiny diner in an obscure side road and had stopped to get their bearings. The unlimited coffee was pretty horrible, if he did say so himself. Harry grabbed another pack of sugar, ripped it open, and stirred it in. He added the paper to the growing pile that sat between them. At least the bacon and eggs were sufficiently greasy enough to sate his appetite
"Where—" Hermione stopped talking abruptly, interrupted by a yawn. "Where to now?"
Harry grabbed the map from the messenger bag, and unfolded it right across the table. The bottom right corner nose-dived into his coffee as he stared mournfully at it.
"Wherever we want," he said. He pointed down, to what he was sure was a tiny town that no one had heard of. "What about here?"
Hermione peered closer at it. "Seems okay."
"Works for me," Ron said, stretching. Map in hand, destination in place, they paid for their breakfast and piled back into Crookshanks. Soon, they were driving down the highway as the last tinges of pink and orange faded from the sky.
"Who brought the CD tracks again?" Ron asked, having stolen shotgun before Harry could. He turned around and was grinning smugly. Harry rummaged around his bag, before drawing it out with a flourish.
"I've got it. You guys will love it, I promise," he said, placing it neatly in the CD slot.
Their windows were down and the morning was humming in anticipation as the upbeat tunes of Life is a Highway started out into the road. Hermione beamed over at Ron, and Ron whooped into the air, and Harry laughed because this was what he loved the most.