Chapter Two: Sightseeing
~~~Travelers~~~
"Tony, are you sure about this? I mean New York?" Pepper wondered sometimes if her boss and erstwhile romantic partner did the things he did just to mess with her.
"Of course I'm sure, Pepper. I'm always sure about anything I do."
"Right..." Pepper trailed off. Then briskly, "If we're going to do this, build this building, move the company there, I'm going to need you to finish those blueprints and the latest redesign for the arc reactor."
Pepper couldn't help the little skip her heart made at Tony's grin. "No problem. I'll have them to you in three weeks."
Pepper slowly shook her head. "I don't think so. You'll have them to me by by the end of this week. We need those plans for Phase One. "
Tony's smile dimmed. He muttered under his breath, "Slave driver."
"What was that?"
"Beautiful slave driver? Okay, you heard that Jarvis, we need to get to work."
A dry British-accented voice responded, "Of course we do, sir."
Oddly, Tony looked pleased. "You hear that? How many people do you think can program an AI to be sarcastic? I'll tell you how many. One. Me."
Pepper gave Tony a quick kiss on the cheek. "I know. You're brilliant. Now get to work while I fly out to New York. I have to push those permits through one last time."
"Really? You're flying out? I thought we could-"
Pepper raised one brow. "Could what?"
Tony's smile grew suggestive. "Dinner, a little champagne, dancing, finishing here at the house?"
"Sounds wonderful."
Tony leaned in. "Really?"
"Really. You go do that. I'll be in New York." Pepper walked off with a wistful smile on her face. Sometimes Tony was just too easy. Still, sometimes he made it hard to leave. Really hard.
~~~Travelers~~~
Hermione stirred, a smile on her face. She felt wonderful. Slowly she opened her eyes, blinking at the light. Hermione was reaching her arms up to stretch when she noticed that she was only wearing her underwear. The smile on her face grew as she murmured, "Harry, you bad boy."
"Master Harry isn't here, Mistress Hermione."
"Ahhhhh!" Hermione was so badly startled by the unknown voice that she fell out of bed and landed in a heap amid pillows and covers on the floor. She raised her head, brushing hair out of her eyes, looking for the source of the voice. That's when she spied her. "Posey? What are you doing here?"
Posey blinked a couple of times. "I am here to take care of you and the Master, Mistress Hermione."
Hermione blinked rapidly. House Elves could be so literal. She began again. "I mean, how are you here. You were going to stay at Grimauld Place."
"Master Harry brought us."
Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Did he now? So I have you to thank for putting me to bed last night?"
Posey nodded. "Yes, Mistress. You and Master Harry fell asleep on the sofa. We didn't want you to be uncomfortable so I took care of you and Rimer took care of Master Harry."
Hermione smiled sweetly. She was so going to kill him. "So where is 'Master' Harry?"
"I don't know, Mistress. The Master left very early. While you wait, would you like breakfast? I made your favorites."
Hermione sighed internally. She'd tried several times with no success to get both of the House Elves to just call her Hermione. They had been oh so polite, but infinitely stubborn. It didn't help that despite the fact that they were so polite, neither was even the slightest bit obsequious. Instead, their polite requests almost seemed like commands, albeit very reasonable ones. Which was why she smiled as she found herself nodding, "That would be wonderful, Posey. Thank you."
As she sat down, Hermione found herself wondering just how the Elves had been able to find someplace to cook a full breakfast?
~~~Travelers~~~
Harry walked briskly down the street, a pace matched or exceeded by every other person on the sidewalk. He'd had a productive morning. First, he managed to sell a half dozen gold bars, each weighing in at a kilogram apiece or just over 32 troy ounces. Of course, thanks to Hermione, he had a ridiculous number still in his bags. She had been the one who talked him into selling all his properties and closing his Gringotts accounts, converting the resulting galleons into gold and platinum bullion. The roughly forty-five million galleons had turned into a tad over two hundred and twenty-five million pounds sterling. The majority of those galleons coming from the Black estate Harry had inherited from Sirius.
Of course, the pound sterling versus Canadian dollar rate was approximately a pound sterling to two point four Canadian dollars, something Harry only knew because they were supposed to end up in Canada. Hermione had explained various exchange rates, but all Harry had known was that he had plenty of money. Even after ending up the US instead of Canada. Plus, that the price of gold had shot through the roof during their journey.
Harry knew that they had ended up in the future. Just under eleven years in the future. It had been March of 1999 when they'd left. Now it was February of the year 2010. Walking down the streets, Harry hadn't know what to expect. Culture shock? Crazy technology? Economic madness? None of the above had materialized.
Oh there had been the tiny phones that everyone and their mother seemed to have glued to their ears most of the day, which were a surprise. Still, Harry had seen the usefulness of them and stopped off at a store to pick up one each for himself and Hermione, buying ones with prepaid minutes.
There were also the storefronts dominated by giant flatscreen tellies that Harry promised himself he would buy when he found a place to settle. The rest of what he'd seen? Not so very different.
Harry had expected things to cost more, although oddly enough, the things he'd seen didn't seem much if any more expensive than he was used to. The only thing he'd found that was far pricier was a cup of coffee sold at some place called 'Starbucks.' How much of that was confusion with the exchange rate, he wasn't sure. But more than five dollars for a cup of coffee seemed expensive.
Even with five dollar cups of coffee, Harry had plenty of money, a fact demonstrated by the sale he'd just made. A kilo bar of golf that he'd bought for roughly fifty-eight hundred pounds was now selling for well over forty-five thousand dollars. Even Harry's rough math could figure out that he had an even more ridiculous amount of money now than before.
As for the money from the bars he'd sold, it had been put partially into an account in the Caymans and partially turned into cash. Harry had received four credit cards linked to the account. He was also walking around with more than fifty thousand dollars in cash.
The Gold Exchange, which appeared to be some cross between a precious metals exchange and a bank, had been very helpful. Harry's agent, a man named Stanislaw Lem, had been mostly honest during the transaction, at least according to a cursory Legilimency scan. How much of that was because of the money he'd made off of him and how much was because he thought he could make a great deal more in the future, he didn't know. Regardless, his surface thoughts showed that he hadn't been cheated and would even become a preferred customer with a few more transactions of this size.
He had even gotten contact information for someone who could provide Hermione and himself with identities that would stand up to in depth examination. It would be very expensive, hence the cash Harry had taken. Apparently, something called 'nine eleven' had led to a tightening of security and identity on a frightening scale.
Determined to find out more later, Harry had merely nodded in agreement that he didn't want to end up in something called 'Guantanamo Bay.' He had wondered briefly why a metal exchange/bank would have information on a document forger, but Stanislaw simply treated it as if it were a standard service. He wouldn't get anymore information unless he was willing to scan deeper, something he was loathe to do.
The last thing Harry had done was to use a Memory Charm on Stanislaw, erasing any information regarding getting new identities. He didn't want to get into the habit of throwing such charms around, but when it came to protecting Hermione, there wasn't much he wouldn't do. Harry also had to admit that all of the talk of detainment camps made him a bit nervous, harkening back to the war against Voldemort as it did.
~~~Travelers~~~
Harry swiped his key card and walked in. His first clue that something was wrong was hearing his name.
"Harry James Potter!"
Harry whirled around to see Hermione standing next to Mimer and Posey. Uh oh, he thought. He decided to brazen it out. "Hermione! You're up. And looking utterly ravishing. Would you like to know what I've been doing all morning?"
Hermione's face wore a scowl as she demanded, "Just what were you thinking? You were supposed to find them a new home. I thought that you were going to leave them with Andromeda or Neville so that eventually they would take care of Teddy. Instead, I find that their here. You brought them here. Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"
Harry sighed. "Hermione, the truth is that they weren't ever going to go to Andromeda's. Or any other family. They're Potter Elves. They want to die Potter Elves. They made sure that I understood that. So what would you have me do?"
Hermione's face underwent a transition from angry to disbelieving to finally sad. She knelt between the Elves. "Rimer, Posey, don't you want to be free?"
There was an enormous dignity to Rimer as he met her eyes. "Mistress, I am free. As free as I choose to be. I would choose to do the same if I were not bonded. The Bond is not slavery. It is life and family. That is our happiness. Sometimes, it is true, our family is bad. They are cruel and would hurt us. But even then, a bad family is better than no family."
Beside her, Posey solemnly nodded her head. Hermione looked stricken. Harry walked over to her and pulled her to her feet. He gently hugged her. "Hermione, we can't always understand what others want. Besides, I don't know why you insist that they're slaves. It always seems that anytime a situation comes up where they want something, they get their way. Don't you, Rimer?"
Rimer looked shocked. "Of course not, Master Harry. A House Elf always does as his Master requires."
Harry stared at him in amusement. He pulled out of Hermione's embrace and gave her a significant glance. "Okay, then. Rimer, please call me Harry. Just Harry."
Rimer shook his head. "Oh no, Master Harry. I could never do that."
Hermione's face had lost that look of sadness. a glint of humor returning to her eyes. Harry smiled at her. With mock exasperation, he said, "See what I mean? They always get their way."
Posey spoke up, "Is Master Harry ready for his breakfast? I have a lovely plate laid out for you at the table over here."
Automatically, Harry agreed. "Sure thing, Posey." Then he stopped, shaking his head, wondering how much of what he'd told Hermione was actually true. Somehow, he suspected quite a bit.
~~~Travelers~~~
"Hermione, my feet are killing me. How much further do you plan to go today?"
Hermione smiled in amusement. "Is the big, bad Quidditch player feeling tired? I wonder what it says about you that a girl can walk circles around you? Come on, we have lots of things still to see this morning."
Harry nodded silently. Hermione could walk circles around him. Especially while sightseeing. A taxi had dropped them off in midtown Manhattan and they'd been walking for hours. Occasionally popping into little shops and cafes, they had to have walked at least ten miles.
"Oh, look, Harry, a bookstore!" Hermione's happy squeal pierced the air.
Harry smiled at her joy. Hermione always loved a bookstore, especially the hole in the wall ones like the one they were standing in front of. The opposite of the faceless corporate giants, it was dim and cosy and more than a bit dusty. Harry, himself, liked two out of three of its qualities, while he was certain that she liked all three, despite being a neat freak about all else.
The proprietor, standing behind the counter, was packing books into a box. A small, sharp-eyed man, his hair was just turning gray. Lines that leaned more towards laughter than sorrow touched his faded blue eyes and the corners of his mouth. Now, though, he wore a slightly harried look as he greeted them.
"Hello, folks. Welcome to Novel Ideas. I'm Barnaby Neil. Everything's on sale. If you're looking for anything in particular, let me know and I can help you find it."
Hermione stopped in front of counter. "Mr Neil, you look like you're going out of business."
The man, Barnaby, paused. A sad, tired smile crossed his face. "Yes, miss..."
"Hermione Granger. But, please, call me Hermione."
Mr Neil leaned on the counter. "Miss Gr- Hermione. Pleased to meet you. Call me Barnaby, And yes, I am going out of business. My family's owned this store since before I was born. But costs have gone up every year and profits down. And business? The internet has squeezed even the big chains. My small shop just hasn't been able to keep up. This last tax increase by the city has finally squeezed me a little too much. So I'm packing up and selling off the premises. At least with real estate prices as high as they are, it'll make a nice nest egg."
"Barnaby, how much does something like this place cost?" she asked. Next to her, Harry's attention increased as he noticed Hermione's genuine interest.
Barnaby grimaced. "I'm hoping to get four point five million for the space. There's seventy eight hundred square feet pretty evenly divided up between the ground floor, the upstairs, and the basement."
Harry noticed Hermione's look of disappointment and correctly surmised that the amount had frightened her off. He introduced himself. "Harry Potter, Mr Neil." At the man's wry look, Harry changed, "Barnaby, rather. Is that typical for commercial real estate in New York?"
Barnaby nodded. "Nice to meet you, Harry. Actually, it's a bit light. But with the constraints on the usable space, it about right."
"What constraints are those?"
"Well, the upstairs is zoned for residential and can't be used for commercial use except for storage." At Hermione's curious look, he explained, "It's from back when many people lived above the businesses they owned and ran. The basement is zoned for business, but there's a rather tight access to it with the set up of the building. Even with the prime location here on Park Avenue, it won't go for as much as I'd like. Not like that new skyscraper they're building just down the street. Space in there is going for more than three times what I'll get. But then that Tony Stark is a genius in business."
That was the second time in two days that Harry had heard that name. Still, he dismissed it, as wealthy billionaires who like to dress up in metal suits and fly around had nothing to do with him. "Do you have a buyer yet, Barnaby?"
Barnaby shook his head. "Not yet. I'm talking to two different real estate agents, trying to see who can get me the best price. Of course the vultures want ten percent to sell the place." He frowned in irritation. "Only in New York."
Harry met Hermione's gaze. "You want this, Hermione?"
Hermione looked doubtful. "Harry, that is a lot of money. I don't-"
Harry shrugged. "I have it. What's money for except to buy the things we want? I can see that you want this place. So just say yes."
Hermione chewed her lower lip, as a tug of desire hit Harry. She noticed where his eyes were focused, and smiled. In a decisive tone, she said, "Okay. I want it. Please."
Harry bit back a grin as he turned to Barnaby who was giving him a dubious look. Clearly he didn't think that a couple of kids had the wherewithal to purchase his premises. "Barnaby, I'll give you five million for this place. Just give me a week to get the money together."
Barnaby sighed. "Look, Harry, I'm not trying to cast doubts on your word, but you don't really look like someone who has access to that kind of money. Do you have any proof that you can come up with it?"
Harry thought for a moment, then turned away, reaching into the bottomless bag he carried on his belt under Notice-Me-Not Charms. He grabbed a kilo bar of gold and pulled it out. Turning back to Barnaby, he handed it to the man.
Barnaby stared at the small flat bar that covered just over half of his palm etched with '.999 Fine Gold' and '1 Kilo' on its surface, then turned his stare to Harry who shrugged. "That's solid gold, isn't it?"
Harry answered amiably, "Yes, it is."
Barnaby slowly handed it back, as if reluctant to release it. He nodded. "Okay. A week it is. Ah... while you're here, do you at least want to see the upstairs and basement?"
Harry and Hermione agreed and within minutes were getting a quick tour of the upstairs. It turned out to be just one large room, which could be subdivided. It also could have Space Expansion Charms applied to it, which would substantially increase the space. The basement was the same and would make a great space for Hermione to work as well as a wonderful dueling range for Harry who didn't want his skills in that area to grow too rusty. In the end, Harry was even more determined to buy it.
After that, the two teens headed back to their hotel where Hermione reminded Harry to pay for their suite for real this time. Once they got upstairs, Harry had barely closed the door behind them when he had a armful of witch.
Hermione kissed him passionately. "You.'' Kiss. "Are." Kiss. "The." Kiss. "Most." Kiss. "Wonderful." Kiss. "Boyfriend." Kiss. "Ever."
Harry kissed her back just as passionately. Finally, though, she broke the kiss, resting her head on his chest. Harry teased, "Remind me to buy you something every day if that's the thanks I get."
Hermione lightly smacked him. "Prat."
Harry captured her wrist, tenderly kissing the pulse. "I like it, too. That lower space is big enough with expansion charms to ride a broom in."
Hermione laughed. "I should have known that you brought a broom with you."
Harry grinned. "I brought ten."
Hermione looked surprised. "Ten? Whyever for?"
Completely straight-faced, Harry explained, "Why for our kids, of course. We'll need enough to field two teams."
Hermione's eyes bulged. "Ten kids? You want to have ten kids?" She sounded faint.
Harry eased around behind Hermione as his arms embraced her. Breathing in the scent of her hair, he murmured in her ear, "Sure. Five girls and five boys. Just think how much fun conceiving them will be."
Hermione seemed to have finally figured out that he was joking. She pinched his arm hard as she fondly said, "Prat."
"Ouch! Be careful, Hermione. Those arms need to be strong to keep my weight off of your during the conception process."
Hermione spun herself out of his arms. Harry noticed the intense blush on her face from his comment. It didn't stop her from giving him a saucy wink. "Really? What makes you think I'll be the one on my back?"
How he could still blush with all of the blood in his body rushing to his groin, Harry didn't know. Nor how he could still manage to chase Hermione. Still, somehow, he managed.
~~~Travelers~~~
Agent Miriam Campbell stared at the surveillance tape that they were monitoring from the Gold Exchange. With her increasing familiarity with the subjects of their investigation, she easily recognized everyone there. Then...
"Hello. Now who would you be?"
Her supervisor, Agent Samuel Frist glanced over towards from his own monitor. "Got something, Miri?"
"Maybe. A new player certainly. Unidentified male. Late teens/early twenties. Cashing in six kilos of gold bullion worth nearly two hundred and seventy-five thousand."
Sam frowned at her and quickly slaved his feed to hers. "I don't recognize him. Doesn't appear Middle Eastern. Anybody else dealing with large amounts of bullion these days?"
Miri nodded absently. "A few groups. None that would have a kid represent them. At least I don't think so. Should I kick it upstairs to Strategic Planning?"
Sam frowned. "How did he receive the funds?"
Miri reviewed the tape again. "Forty or fifty k in cash, the rest the usual Cayman hideaway account."
Sam nodded. "That much cash carries some serious possibilities for mischief. Okay, run him through the image recognition software. Depending on what it spits out, send to it to Agent Hill. Low priority, though. Doesn't really look like all that much."
Miri felt like fainting. Not much? Then why was Sam telling her to bump it to Maria Hill, S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent extraordinaire? She-who-was-in-charge of Strategic Planning. Miri whistled silently. The next thing you know he was going to tell her to send it to the Director himself. Then she had a quiet laugh at the thought of anything that she was monitoring being important enough for Nick Fury to care a lick about.
~~~Travelers~~~
