PLEASE READ THIS FIRST:

I'm not sure why I started this fic, but crossovers are so fun to imagine, I wanted to have a go at it.

I want to apologize for any grammatical mistakes I made, but Englsih isn't my first language. Also, if anyone would like to beta for me PLEASE CONTACT ME! I couldn't find any for this chapter.

So this crossover fanfiction takes place in the summer after season 5 of Gossip Girl, but does not include anything that happened after the episode 14 "The Back-up Dan".

As for Harry Potter, I know they are supposed to be a decade older than the GG characters, but it wouldn't have worked, so they're all around 22/23 meaning four or five years after Voldemort's death. Also, you can wipe all of the movies and the books' epilogue off your memories to read this fic.

HP PAIRINGS: Draco/Harry and Ron/Hermione.

GG PAIRINGS: Dan/Blair; as for Chuck, Serena and Nate, nothing is set in stone yet, but they are a big part of this story. Also there will be a little mention of Blair/Chuck because...well it IS Blair and Chuck.

There are going to be a few details in this fic that aren't mentioned in HP books or GG because I sometimes like to appropriate myself a few things, but I haven't changed anything that was a fact in the tvshow and books.

I think that's all and I hope you'll enjoy it. I wish you a good reading.

Disclaimer: I don't have the imagination of J.K. Rowling and the sense of drama of GG writers or Cecily von Ziegesar, so there's no way I created those characters.

Mission Simone Part I: To the Big Apple

Chapter One: Finding Simone.

New York had never been the sunniest city of the United States, Chuck Bass knew it. However, all the inhabitants had to admit that the fog that had been draping the city for more than a week now was quite unusual for the month of May. Chuck did not care much, though; bad weather was good for business. Rather than visiting the city, his rich clients enjoyed all the indoors activities displayed by The Empire. Plus, Chuck could move his most boring meetings pretending not wanting to make his chauffeur take risks, driving in the fog.

It was precisely thanks to this little lie that he could, on a Thursday afternoon, enjoy his apartment with a cup of his favourite tea. Nate was still in lacrosse practice at that time of the day and, even though Chuck very much enjoyed having him as a roommate, he liked having the penthouse for himself from time to time. So, when he heard the chiming of the elevator, announcing a visitor, he slightly groaned hoping it was only Nate coming home early.

Much to his surprise, he saw Dan Humphrey walking towards him, his face pale and his eyes glimmering.

'Humphrey, what are you doing here?' he asked

Dan didn't answer right away, his glaze confusingly wandering around the room, as if he were in an intense reflection. Eventually, he said:

'Can you come home with me?'

Chuck scratched the corner of his eyebrow, wondering if he had heard right.

'What did you say, Humphrey?

'I need you to help me with something' Dan told him, still not looking at him. 'Please, it's…important?'

'Humphrey, it's three in the afternoon and even I am not in that state. What did you take?'

This time, Dan looked at him.

'I asked myself the exact same question, several times, to be honest. But, unless my barista put something in my coffee this morning - something very, very strong- I am completely sober. However, I need you. I can't talk to Serena, let-alone Blair, Eric is abroad and Nate…wouldn't get much more than I do to the situation. You are the only almost sane person that I can turn to, right now. Please.'

Chuck stared at Dan for a while. The first thing that came to his mind was a bad mix of cocaine and mushrooms. But he didn't picture Humphrey as this kind of guy. Seeing him in such a state was pretty singular and Chuck had to admit that he was dying to know what had happened to him.

'Alright, Humphrey' he said, putting down his cup.

He grabbed his coat then said:

'I'm coming with you. But you just have to act a slightly little bit weirder than you are right now for me to leave. I'm serious. You've always strike me as the repressed-homosexual type, so I'm stopping you right now: you are not my type.'

The last sentence seemed to bring Dan back to earth and he pulled on a wry smile:

'Don't worry about that.'

And thus they were on their way, crossing the Brooklyn Bridge to Dan's loft. Dan turned to him when they reached his door.

'Listen' he said 'what's inside might shock you, or at least surprise you.'

'Humphrey, I thought I told you…'

'It's not like that' Dan cut him short, annoyed.

He opened the door and led Chuck to the living-room. Between the couch and the coffee table, was a man sitting, obviously passed out and tied up with Christmas tinsels. Chuck blinked thrice, just to make sure, then turned to Dan:

'What the fuck did you do, Humphrey?'

Dan innocently held up his hands.

'It was self-defense!' he said 'I swear. This guy just…came out of nowhere. He literally appeared in my living room and started talking about a girl, Simone…

'Simone?' asked Chuck, slightly worried.

'Yes, he was asking where she was, saying people were trying to hurt her…people called "deventors"'…

'Deventors? '

Dan nodded.

'And that's not all' he said 'When I threatened to call the police if he didn't leave, he took this out of his pocket.'

Dan pulled from the inside pocket of his jacket a long and thin wood stick. Chuck took it in his hands.

'What is that?' he asked 'A drumstick?'

Dan simply shrugged. Chuck's glare went from Dan to the wood to the man passed out before going back to Dan.

'Are you sure you're not trying to trick me into playing some sick pervert game of your invention?"

Dan took a deep breath, his eyes closed:

'I need a drink' he said.

He went to take a bottle of whisky and poured himself a drink while Chuck said:

'You want me to believe that this guy over there just appeared in the middle of your living room because he was looking for a girl named Simone, and that he took out this drumstick to…to do what exactly?'

'I think he was planning on hurting me with it' Dan said, pouring another drink that he swallowed in one gulp.

'With this stick?'

'Yes'

'It does seem harmful' Chuck said sarcastically.

'You didn't see him, okay? I am certain that he didn't want me any good by taking this thing out. I saw it in his eyes.'

Chuck laughed bitterly at the absurdity of Dan's saying.

'I think you've lost it, Humphrey.'

'I know what I'm saying!'

'Fine! Then explain!' yelled Chuck. "Explain why there's a lunatic tied up in your living room who wanted to attack you because he is after some girl that we've never heard about called Simone!'

'Hermione…'

Dan and Chuck turned in unison toward the intruder. His head was lightly nodding, his eyes struggling to stay open. With a weak voice, he repeated:

'Hermione…'

It took Ron a while to get out of the shower. The hot water felt good on his sore muscles and he was not particularly excited about going back to the ministry to hand over his mission's report. He turned off the water, trying to motivate himself. At least, he could see Harry again. He hadn't got any news since he had left for his mission.

Ron eventually got out of the shower. He dried and dressed himself quickly, pulled his face "don't-talk-to-me" for which he was famous at the ministry each time he came back from a mission. He had his rights, though. Ron was also known to be a hard-worker, in total opposition of all his years at Hogwarts. He went downstairs and got into his fireplace, took a handful of floo powder before throwing it, saying in a clear voice:

'Ministry of Magic, Aurors' Headquarters'

He found himself there within a few seconds. He shook the dust off his shoulders and started walking towards his office. He hadn't reached it yet when Calvin, a perfectionist intern, freshly out of Hogwarts came to him:

'I need to see you, Mr. Weasley.'

Ron let out a small groan of annoyance. Hadn't Calvin notice his "don't-talk-to-me" face? When their eyes met, Calvin found it hard to swallow.

'Not now' Ron said. 'I will bring you my report later. Now, you find Harry and tell him that I'm back.'

He was about to walk away when Calvin said:

'That's the thing. Chief Shackelbolt wants to see you. Mr. Potter might be in danger.'

'What?' Ron frowned. 'How? What's going on?'

'Follow me' Calvin said.

He took Ron to Kingsley's office. The chief was standing, looking out his window, his mind obviously running wild.

'What is all that about?' Ron directly asked, not giving a damn about good manners.

Kingsley turned to him and waved toward a chair.

'Sit down, Ron'

'I've just come back from a three-week mission in Egypt. When I left, Harry was drowning under paperwork, and when I come back, I'm told that he is in danger. I don't want to sit down; I want someone to explain to me what is going on.'

'Alright' Kingsley said, pushing out a deep sigh. 'An organization of "neo-death eaters" formed during last year. I did not want to tell you and Harry about it, I didn't want to worry you. Only, just a little while after you left, Harry was attacked at his place by three members of this group. Fortunately, he was able to defend himself. Two of his attackers are now dead, and he took the third one here. We interrogated him and were able to get important information, such as the fact that they managed to have several Dementors by their side.

'What? How?'

'They're Dementors, Ron, I don't think it's been much difficult to corrupt them.'

'Right. What happened then?'

Ron felt his chest getting heavier and heavier, the more time passed. He had already lost Hermione, he wasn't sure if he could handle loosing Harry too.

'Two days ago, Harry received an anonymous letter' Kingsley continued getting closer to his desk. 'Those people did not appreciate losing three of their members and decided to get revenge. This, was in the envelope.'

He took a sheet on his desk. When he pushed it forward, Ron could see that it was a picture. And when he took it between his fingers, his heart skipped a beat.

He couldn't recognize the background on the picture, and did not care much about it because on the picture were two young women. And one of them was Hermione. And she was heavenly beautiful. Different, but still beautiful. Her curls - longer than the time he had last seen her - were graciously falling down her back to her waist. She was wearing a knee-high, emerald green sundress. She was also wearing jewelry: a necklace made of amber stones was falling on her chest and a silver bracelet was hanging around her slim wrist. The length of her legs was accentuated by the heels she was wearing.

Ron wanted more than anything to believe that it was not her. She didn't dress like the Hermione he knew, her hair wasn't like the Hermione's he knew, she didn't stand like her. But her smile, Ron could have recognized it amongst a thousand others. And when the girl in the picture turned with a wave, he felt his throat tighten.

'It's not her' he said 'It's a set-up'.

He tried to fight the tears coming to his eyes.

'No, Ron' Kingsley said. 'It's really her.'

Ron threw the picture in the air.

'You know what?' he started yelling 'Harry and I, we've searched her everywhere, all over the country for the last six months, without any results. Those idiots could not have found her, like she was just around the corner. Hermione is way too smart for that to happen, she didn't want to be found.

'I understand your dismay, Ron. But there's no doubt that the women on this picture, is Hermione.'

Ron eventually sat down, taking in the news. Hermione. Then, he thought of something.

'Who is that girl, with her?' he asked.

Kingsley nodded.

'The only way to fid Hermione was to identify this girl. Her name is Blair Waldorf, she is an American Muggle, living in New York.'

'New York?' exclaimed Ron 'You're telling me that all this time, Hermione was in New York? Don't we have agents or foreign partners over there that could've recognized her?'

'We think that Hermione pretends to be a wealthy muggle'

'Wealthy?'

Kingsley summoned Calvin with his hand. He obliged, giving Ron a manila folder.

'Blair Waldorf' he said 'is part of the high New Yorker society, more known as the Upper East Side, referring to the neighbourhood they all seem to live in. Their lives, especially Blair Waldorf's, are more or less a succession of different scandals over which a lot of ink gets spilled. Miss Waldorf was first known as the daughter of a muggle designer, Eleanor Waldorf. Her father owns a chateau near Lyon, in France and she is fluent in the language. She then was more known as the partner of Charles Bass, a businessman who inherited his father's hotel company at only 18 years old. Their relationship lasted a , last January, she married the young Prince of Monaco…'

'Louis Henri Grimaldi' Ron said. 'My sister-in-law is French, go on' he added when he saw their surprised glance.

'The wedding didn't last very long since the divorce was pronounced about three months ago. Since then, Blair Waldorf is less and less talked about. We tried to determine the places where Miss Waldorf and Miss Granger could have met. Miss Waldorf said once in an interview that her favourite bookshop was on Madison Avenue. That's the only plausible option to us.'

Ron didn't move when Calvin was done talking. He was registering all those information, his eyes fixated on several muggle pictures of Blair Waldorf. She seemed to be an elegant young woman, somewhat haughty. Ron was wondering who she was to Hermione and what she knew about their world?

'And what does this entire thing have to do with Harry being in danger?' he asked.

'Well, there are so many wizards and witches in New York that it's impossible to track one amongst them all. Mr. Potter then went to look for the muggles Hermione knew. But we didn't want to take the risk that by approaching Blair Waldorf, she'd warn Hermione and that Hermione would then try to run, without knowing what's coming after her. So we made some research and found out that Miss Waldorf used to spend a lot of time with some Daniel Humphrey. We thought that approaching him was the best plan. Only…'

'Only what?' Ron asked impatiently.

'Harry was supposed to contact us as soon as he got information.' Kingsley said. 'And he was supposed to have arrived at this Humphrey's two hours ago.'

'It shouldn't take this long to interrogate a muggle' Ron said, his head nodding. 'Alright, I'm going.' He stood up from his chair. 'I'm going to look for Harry and Hermione.'

Kingsley had a little smirk.

'I knew you would say that. However, you must be careful. Harry's plan doesn't seem to have worked; therefore I think the best way to get to Hermione would be to infiltrate this world, just like she did.'

'A cover?' Ron asked.

'Exactly. We took you a room at Charles Bass' hotel, The Empire. You will stay there as a British businessman. You will then approach Bass and his roommate, Nathaniel Archibald, in order to gather the most information that you can about how to reach Hermione and Harry's location.'

'Alright' Ron said. 'I'll be ready to leave in an hour.'

He was already walking toward the exit when Kingsley said:

'One last thing, Ron'

'What?' Ron asked, turning around.

Kingsley suddenly seemed uncomfortable.

'Well, you see, err…the Upper East Side is…a world…quite special. People there are used to a certain standard of living…a particular behavior quite….

Kingsley hesitations started to get on Ron's nerves, so he turned to Calvin:

'Can you tell me what he doesn't seem to be able to?'

Calvin gave him an awkward look and opened his mouth. However, he was not the one to answer:

'He means, Weasley, that those people are wealthy and civilized and that you're going to have to get rid of you poor habits such as articulating correctly only half of the words you're using, or fighting over the last slice of bread'.

Ron just closed his eyes. This day could not have gotten worst.

'Kingsley thought it would be useful for me to come with you' Malfoy said, entering the office. 'At least to teach you good manners'

Ron did not even look at him, but told Kingsley:

'You're not serious, are you?'

'He could be useful, Ron. He is a good Auror'

'And also a former death-eater! For all we know, he could be the one behind all of this!'

'Well you can't be certain of that, can you?' Malfoy said. 'In the meantime, I am the only one who can help you if something goes wrong. And as we're talking, we have no guarantee that Potter and Granger are still alive. And even though I realized that I was wrong before, thinking all muggles are evil and soulless, trust me…the Upper East Siders really are.'

'Really?' Calvin asked a spark of interest in his eyes.

'Oh yes' Malfoy said. 'I did some research of my own and Weasley, I'm telling you, if we ever meet someone named Georgina Sparks, we're running the other way'.

The elevator doors opened and Blair sighed in relief. She was home. It was the only place in all of New York where she actually felt safe. Of course, there was also the loft, but it was in Brooklyn –and no one in their right mind could truly consider Brooklyn as being part of New York. Plus, it had been several months since she last set a foot in it. Dropping her shopping bags in the entry, she shook the thought out of her head. She hated the fact that whatever she did, wherever she went, she'd always have the tiniest thought of him.

Blair stopped in front of the window glass of her living-room, her eyes inspecting outside. No one. It had been almost three weeks since the paparazzi had stopped trying to take exclusive pictures of her. Blair could barely believe that it only took three little months to stop being "the ex-princess of Monaco ". The only issue was that now, she was not even sure of whom she was anymore. The divorce had happened quickly, and the dowry had been paid. Blair would never forget the way the Van der Woodsens, the Van der Bilt, the Roses and Chuck had been prompt to help her. She had extraordinary friends. And in the middle of the media hype, she had found two allies. One of them had always been there, in some way, and the other was a British girl, who had just arrived in New York. There was something comforting in having on one side someone who knew everything about her, and on the other side, someone who knew simply nothing. Unfortunately, she had let her pride cost her one of them along the road. And she mentally punished herself every day.

She walked toward the kitchen, with the firm intention of preparing a tea. All on her own. It was Dorota's day off, she had now to take care of two children. Two little, adorable blond heads that had the power of making Blair's heart melt, although she would never admit it out loud. Once again, she shook her head.

It took her what seemed to be an eternity to locate the teapot, the cups, and spoons amongst the numerous cupboard of her kitchen. When everything was elegantly disposed on the dining-room table, she stood there, her eyes on the porcelain. What now? She reddened a little as she realized that she would be 22 soon, and that she barely knew how to prepare a tea.

Make water boil.

The instruction had probably come from her subconscious. She went back to the kitchen before hearing the chimes of the elevator.

'Hello' she then heard.

Blair smiled: she loved that accent. She almost skipped towards the entry and welcomed her guest, hugging her tightly.

'Hermione! How are you?'

Hermione tried to relax. She had been living in New York for six months now, but she still wasn't used to the way they greeted each other and was always surprised when Blair hugged her. When the pulled apart, Hermione lifted in front of Blair the light yellow rectangular box she was carrying.

'I know how much you like Paulin's tartes à la fraise'

'Oooh' Blair did, taking the box in her hands. 'You are just adorable. Come with me to the kitchen, I was preparing tea'

'You, preparing tea?' Hermione laughed as they were entering the kitchen. 'Do you need help?'

'I might a little' admitted Blair, smiling slightly'

While Hermione put the kettle on the stove, Blair took the pie out of its box onto a silver plate.

'I can't wait for you to meet Serena. She is the best. She is exquisite.

'I can't wait to meet her too' Hermione said, smiling. 'She might finally tell me who the real Blair Waldorf is'

'Not a chance' Blair said. 'Serena would never say anything compromising about me to someone she doesn't know. Besides, we have Gossip Girl for that'

'Except that you made me promise not to check it out'

'Only because it wouldn't be fair for you to know my secrets, I know none of yours.'

'They're not secrets if they are on the internet'

'You see what I mean' Blair rolled her eyes.

Hermione laughed a little.

'Yes, and you're right, it would not be fair.

Blair stared at her for a while and leaned forward, elbows on the kitchen island, the chin in her hands.

'You know now would be a perfect time to tell me why you fled England' she said

'As now would be a perfect time to tell me why you never want to go to the movies, or have lunch in a hotel restaurant, or go to the MoMA' replied Hermione, taking the blowing kettle off the stove.

'Touché'

Hermione was always happy to get with Blair. They both had secrets the wanted to keep hidden deep inside and Hermione felt like someone completely new when she was with her.

They went together to the dining room to wait for Serena, discussing their last literary discover. Blair could simply not believe that Hermione had never read The Great Gatsby. Of course, Hermione had an excuse, she said she had never been that much interested in American literature, but still. However, Blair was not one to cast the first stone, since she had never opened in her life anything that was written by Oscar Wilde, although she sometimes pretended the contrary. Besides, who would rather read, when the book was turned into a movie starring Colin Firth and Rupert Everett?

Blair had never been interested in Rupert Everett before seeing him in The Importance of Being Earnest, a year before that with…anyway. She was about to change the subject to avoid the thought when she heard someone coming in.

'B ?' a voice echoed in the entry.

'In the dining room!' Blair said loudly enough so Serena would hear.

And Hermione could not have been prepared in a million years for what she saw next. A young woman appeared and threw herself into Blair's waiting arms. She was tall and slim, her hair had this unique bright blond color and fell on her perfectly tanned skin. She was wearing a white sundress which fit her curves to the very inches, allowing the view of her legs emphasized by her wedge heels and when she pulled from Blair, she revealed a cleavage to die for. And when she turned to give her a smile, Hermione was absolutely positive that she had never seen someone like that. Not even Fleur Delacour.

Serena approached her and Hermione stood up, remembering the American way of greeting.

'So you must be Hermione' Serena said, taking her in her arms. 'I am really glad to meet you, Blair has talked a lot about you'

'Yes' Hermione found it suddenly difficult to articulate. 'She's told me a lot about you too'

'Only good things, I hope' Serena laughed.

'Ab-absolutely' replied Hermione. Even her laugh was perfect. It was almost ridiculous.

The three of them sat down, and started to serve the tea and slices of pie and when Serena took the first bite, her eyes brightened.

'Oh my, B, this is delicious. Where did you get it?

'Ha' Blair put down her cup. 'Well it turns out that besides being British and knowing nothing about the Upper East Sides scandals, Hermione also lives with a young, talented French confectioner named Paulin'

'So you couldn't be more perfect' Serena smiled taking another bite.

The compliment made Hermione blush, and she had to restrain herself from asking if Serena was a veela.

'So, tell us about Congo! Have you seen lions?' Blair asked enthusiastically.

'Yes!' Serena said 'And I brought you loads of picture, there's this one of Eric that you make you roll on the floor. But I don't want to talk about me right now, I'd rather you tell me about how you two met.'

An uncomfortable silence settled, for so long that Serena felt that she had asked a delicate question.

'Have I said something wrong?'

Blair shook her head 'Hermione and I met in a group therapy, for women who had a miscarriage.'

'Oh, you finally went!' Serena stroked Blair's arms softly 'I am so proud of you. How did it go?'

'It was good' Blair said with a satisfied tone in her voice. 'I realized that, compared to a lot of others, I manage to go through it and accept it pretty easily.'

Serena gave her a warm smile, and then turned to Hermione.

Hermione smiled politely.

'I guess it is going well. I never really knew what to think of this baby, anyway.'

'What about…Paulin, is that it? How is he dealing with all of this?'

'Oh no!' Hermione was quick to answer 'Paulin wasn't the father. I met him after all of this happened.'

'Right' Serena said 'Well, ladies, I am taking you out tonight, to celebrate your mental and physical strength. Does it sound good?'

'Oh, actually, Hermione and I had planned on attending Noah Shapiro's lecture of his new book…'

'Yeah, alright' Serena said, barely listening and taking out her phone. 'I'm making a reservation at Nadja, it's a wonderful Moroccan restaurant' she told Hermione. 'The how about we go to the "Liz the 2nd?" It would bring Hermione back to her roots for a few hours'

'I'm sorry?' Hermione asked

'It's a purely British nightclub' Serena said, standing up from her seat. They are usually resentful to allowing Americans in, but we always get through because Blair dated Lord Marcus Beaton.'

'Ugh' Blair rolled her eyes 'Don't you hate it when people remind you your Senior Year mistakes, Hermione?'

Hermione took a deep breath and kept a straight smile. How was she to explain that she had spent her last year of school chasing one of the cruelest dark wizards that the world had ever known?

'Yes' she said, 'I really hate it'

Blair smiled to her.

'I am really happy that the two of you met. Who's in for shopping, so we can find something nice to wear tonight?'

'I can't, sorry' Serena said 'I'm supposed to meet with my mom and Rufus. But let's meet here at 7:30, agreed?'

'Right, well that way we can stop at the library for the lecture' Blair told Hermione 'Right after we stop at Hermès, I saw this gorgeous dress that would suit you so well. I know how much you like orange.'

It was not in Nate's habits to fully express his feelings. At least not in the moment. Whenever he got mad, he rarely screamed. Whenever he felt happy, he only pulled a light smile. Whenever he was confused, he tried to keep an undisturbed face. But there were times when, in spite of him, everything would get out. When he told Serena about how he had felt all these years. When he learned that Chuck had slept with Blair. When he authorized himself to explore this strange and ephemeral attraction towards Jenny.

And that day, as he was standing in Dan's loft, he was about to let his feelings speak freely. Because, when he left practice this day, he hadn't planned on Chuck begging him to join him at Dan's. Due to the recent events, Nate had prepared himself for the vision of Dan lying on the floor, bathing in his own blood. He was then extremely surprised to see a man tied up in the living room, Dan and Chuck standing in front of him, both arms-crossed.

Nate had understood that this man had come out of nowhere. He had understood that this man was British and that his name was Harry. He had understood that Harry was looking for a woman named Hermione who was in danger and who knew Blair. And when they asked Harry why Hermione was in danger, he asked them to keep an open mind. Sure, no problem.

Only, as Harry was finishing his story, Nate's brain was full with strange words such as "Hogwarts, dementors, portkey, aurors, death eater, Voldemort". Neither Dan nor Chuck talked. They remained sitting on the couch, eyes blank, brows frowned. Nate knew they were as confused as he was. That's why when Harry finally stopped talking, Nate was certain to speak in the name of everyone when he said :

'Holy shit.'

'Yeah' Harry said with a smirk.

'We should introduce you to Damien Dalgaard' Nate said. 'Because whatever it is you're taking, I am positive that he would be interested in selling it.'

Harry sighed and lowered his head. Of course they hadn't believed him.

'I'm not drugged, you have to believe me. My friend is in danger.'

He stared at them with big, hopeful eyes and seeing that none of them seemed moved or the tiniest bit touched, he had an idea.

'Hey, the drumstick' he said 'Untie me and I can prove I'm saying the truth'

'No way' Dan said, standing up. 'How do we know you're not going to try to hurt us with it?'

'Well, if I'm lying, how could I cause you any harm with it?'

The three others each thought for a while, and finally, Chuck said:

'Fair enough'

He took the stick and untied Harry.

'Show us' he said, handing the stick. 'Go on'

Harry took the wand with confidence, pointed it on a vase full of daisies –Lily gave some to Dan every Sunday to "brighten his place"- on the coffee table.

'Wingardium Leviosa' he said, executing the movement that had become so natural to him since he was eleven.

And before Dan's, Nate's and Chuck's eyes, the vase was soon levitating. Harry kept it up in the air for a few seconds before putting it back on the coffee table, never taking his look away from them. They were speechless. But Chuck soon regained his thinking capacity, saying:

'It's fake, there's a trick to it'

Harry decided that he had enough of trying to talk some sense into Muggles that did not want to hear anything.

'Reducto!' he shouted

He didn't think of weighing the intensity of the spell, so it wasn't only the vase but also the coffee table that exploded in the middle of the living room.

Dan, Nate and Chuck jumped, startled and once the shock had relatively passed, Dan moaned:

'Dude, that's really not cool. It's my furniture'

Harry sighed deeply 'I'm sorry. Reparo. Scourgify.'

The coffee table along with the vase re-formed, and the spread flower parts and the water vanished. Then again, Nate couldn't simply help it:

'Holy fucking shit' he said under his breath

Ron nimbly landed on the portkey landing platform of the International Confederacy of Wizards New York head-quarters. The first thing he did was looking around for a clock. 10:30 pm. No wonder he felt so tired, it was 3:30 in the morning back in England. He fisted his hands inside his haute-couture muggle suit and cracked his neck. The journey had been so long. He and Malfoy had to fly to Lisbon, before catching a one-hour-long portkey which brought them to New York. As they were leaving the platform and following the sings floating in the air to pick up their luggage, Ron asked:

'Have you ever been to New York before?'

They arrived in front of a counter, where a house elf presented to each a silvery plate. They put their right hands on it and said:

'Draco Malfoy, Royal Aurors Services, England.'

'Ronald Weasley, Ministerial Aurors Services, England.'

The plates became bright green and started shrinking in their hands, Draco answered Ron:

'Twice. One for a mission, the second time for pleasure. You?'

'First time.'

The plates had turned into little silvery cards and Ron could read on his: "ICW Temporary Agent : Ronald WEASLEY ‒ MASE".

'Your luggage is waiting for you at the end of this hallway' the house elf told them.

Another one was waiting for them to hand over their goods, and while doing so, he told them with a bright smile:

'Welcome to New York and to the United States of America. Our Minister of Magic Leroy Renton would like to wish you a pleasant stay and the success of your mission in the respect of the muggle and wizards citizens of this great nation'

'Oh…kay' Ron said, taking his bag in his hand.

He then followed Malfoy, who already knew the way out. They stepped into a gigantic circle hall in which there were about ten queues in front of great mahogany doors. Above those doors were floating different signs. Draco nudged Ron and showed him the one reading: "Under Muggle Cover Missions". They went to stand in the queue behind this one, and when the heavy doors closed behind the Turkish Auror before them, Ron felt his heart pace quicken. At the very instant, he was physically the closest to Hermione that he had been in six months. When the stepped outside, Ron turned around to see that it appeared they were leaving an Italian restaurant.

Much more discreet than a payphone descending in the ground.

Malfoy hailed a taxi and Ron couldn't help but being a bit excited. It had been a long time since he'd gotten into a car and he simply loved that. He tried to contain his sudden good mood and to convince himself he wasn't turning into his father.

They got into the taxi and Malfoy gave the address. And as the car dived into the bright valley full of lights that was New York at night, Ron looked through the window, amazed by what muggles could do without even the tiniest knowledge of any charm or spell. That, thought Ron gazing at the skyscrapers, was real magic. Unfortunately, Malfoy dragged him out of his trance.

'Listen, Weasley' he said 'I've done some research and I think that we should use another approach, Kingsley's plan is no good, it would put us right into the position Harry is probably in.

Ron nodded, much to his dismay. He hated the fact that, since the war ended, he seemed to agree much more often with Malfoy.

'What are you suggesting?' he asked.

'Daniel Humphrey is not the one we should be going after. Neither is Charles Bass, not Nate Archibald. If we really want to find Hermione, we need to find Serena Van der Woodsen. She is Blair Waldorf's best friend since forever and she just came back from her holidays in Zaïre today. She is going to cross path with Hermione sooner or later, partying is the only thing that those people can do right.'

Ron was surprised by how much Malfoy seemed to know about them.

'What database are you using?'

'Internet' Malfoy answered, shrugging.

'Ha! Very funny. Draco Malfoy using the internet. You almost got me.' Ron said with an unconvinced tone.

'It's true' Malfoy said, his eyebrows frowning. 'I did a better job that this bloody intern. He searched through the state registers and the newspapers. I found something better.'

'On the internet?'

'On the internet.'

They were silent for a moment, and Ron understood that Malfoy was just waiting for him to ask.

'Tell me, Malfoy, what is it that you…'

'Gossip girl.'

Saying these words, Malfoy's face lit up and reminded Ron of a little kid in front of the Nimbus 2O12.

'It's a website, a blog, as muggles call it. Apparently, no one knows who she is, but she sees everything, she hears everything, knows everything! And her favourite preys: Waldorf, Van der Woodsen, Bass, Archibald and Humphrey. I'll show you when we get to the hotel, it's a gold mine'

'You're telling me that we're looking for five muggles in all of New York, and that there's a machine that will tell us about their whereabouts anytime we want?'

'That's exactly what I'm saying.'

Ron didn't hide his surprise.

'That's convenient' he said.

The taxi stopped at a red light, and from his window, Ron could see a crowd of people in front of a huge building with a neon sign reading "Liz the 2nd". He could hear a heavy and loud tempo coming out of it and realized it was a night club. Harry and Hermione had told him about it once. Ron found a bit absurd the idea of paying to dance. He laid back on his seat, closing his eyes as the light turned green.

They arrived fast, and Malfoy stayed back while Ron was checking in. 'I'm not used to talk to muggles' he said.

Ron went and gave their fake names: Norman Blighton and Ulrich Dante –Malfoy always had to choose unusual fake names.

'Very well, you're in the Royal Suite. Are you available for lunch tomorrow?' the check-in girl said.

Ron was surprised by the question. He had heard about Americans being straight forward, but that much?

'The boss, Mr. Charles Bass, likes to have lunch with the clients of the Royal Suite' she added.

'Oh, right' Ron blushed a little 'Yes, you may schedule the lunch'.

'Very well Mr. Blighton. Here're your and Mr. Dante's electronic keys. Have a pleasant stay with us at The Empire'

As they were standing in the lift, Ron felt the fatigue weighing on his shoulders. He peeked towards Malfoy who looked as fresh as if he was waking up from a good, long night sleep. As he always did, in fact. When they got to their suite, it didn't take more than five minutes for Ron to choose a room, put on his pajamas and slide under the covers. He would get excited about the surrounding luxury later. For now, all he wanted was get some rest and power up, so he could find Harry and Hermione as soon as possible and bring them back home. While his body felt like it was sinking into the mattress, Ron promised himself that once he found Hermione, he would never let her go again.

All the mysteries that are set there are going to start to resolve from the next chapter to chapter 6.

Thank you for reading. Review please?