Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Perfect Obviousness

Harry quickly rushed through the door to Ginny's apartment. She was standing by it having obviously just escorted her visitors out.

"Did you see them?" she asked quickly not seeming nearly as panicked as Harry felt.

"Yes. I don't think they recognized me though," he rattled off breathing slightly heavily as he pulled off his blue baseball cap.

"I hate that I just lied to my own family," she whispered, wondering slowly back to her sofa.

"Can I tell you that I'm not ready yet without this becoming a huge argument?"

"Harry you just told me last week that we could maybe go back. You got a job. You have a beautiful girlfriend that desperately can't wait to marry you and most of all you have adoring masses that can't wait to worship the mere sight of you."

"Ginny…"

"Harry."

"I'm not ready to go back."

She looked at him somewhat pathetically and tried not to growl. "I miss my home, Harry."

His shoulders dropped as the tension from literally running into his past was replaced with a pathetic sigh. "I'm not so sure that I could ever consider any place my home."

"They'll find you eventually," she replied staring at him knowingly and bobbing her head.

"What makes you so sure?"

"I found you and I was hardly looking."

"You didn't find me. I was your patient at the hospital. Pure luck."

She smiled at him cheekily. "Yes, pretty lucky that you managed to shoot your foot with a nail gun."

He dropped his jaw in mock incredulity. "Those things are tricky. Muggle construction… what was I thinking…" he drifted off as if he was entering a different place.

"About my brother searching the whole of the world for you…"

"Have you ever met your brother?" Harry asked hiding a teasing smile.

Ginny nodded, waiting to see what he was getting at.

"Then you shouldn't be worried. He's too thick to find his own feet."

"Harry."

"Just say it already."

"Why can't you face them? I mean I know they were there. I know they saw things you wish had never taken place." Ginny scooted closer to him on the couch and put her hand on his cheek. "But you did what you had to do to save the world Harry. No one in their right mind would hate you for that."

"They just seemed so… scared of me. Their best friend and they looked at me like I was polluted or something."

"You need to understand that you can't be judged for doing what was right Harry. You could face them now."

Harry shook his head quickly wiping the haunted look from his face and replacing it with a wisp of a smile. "No I can't now."

"Why not?" she asked glaring slightly.

"Because now I'm sleeping with his little sister and I think sometimes you forget how scary your... brothers can be," Harry choked out the last few words.

Ginny hit him playfully on the arm, not perceiving his sentence's awkward conclusion, and stood from the sofa. "You forget how scary I can be."

"I think I've finally made up my mind about what we should do," Ron said rushing through the rows of periodicals to where Hermione was ruffling through her book.

"You're right maybe it's time we check the obituaries," Hermione replied glumly as she slammed her periodical closed with a frustrated growl.

"Er no," Ron shot back sounding much too chipper for his fiancé suggesting his best, nay ex-best, friend to be dead. "I was thinking we should just go back home and you can finally pick out your wedding dress."

Hermione looked back at him even more horrified than she'd been at the thought of searching through the obituaries for Harry. "Ron do you realize I'm refusing to marry you until we find out what happened to Harry?"

Ron fell back against the wall of bound newspapers. "I hate America, Hermione. I hate it here and honestly maybe we're better off without him."

Hermione's jaw dropped, "Take that back you nasty prat before I lock you in this room for all eternity with the smelly books and the rude Americans."

"I know what I saw Hermione."

"Well you saw wrong," she hissed back coldly. "Harry was like a brother to-"

"Ha! I have four brothers. If Harry had been as you say he was then maybe I'd still have five."

Hermione's face paled. "You didn't see what you thought you saw. Harry wouldn't do that."

"Hermione. I know you think I still carry my weird jealousy complex," Ron whispered softly stepping up to her and placing a calming hand on her shoulder, "but could you, for once, just believe me over him?"

Hermione grabbed another periodical and handed it to Ron. "When we find Harry he'll tell you himself," she said sternly pulling her unruly hair into a ponytail and driving her nose into another large book.

After another hour or so Ron dropped his book onto the floor having finally finished his skim while Hermione closed the fourth one she'd managed to get through in the same amount of time.

"Is this hopeless?" Hermione asked eyeing Ron pathetically as if she might actually give up.

"It's not hopeless," He found himself begrudgingly replying. "It is however very unlikely that a Harry Potter would exist in these books. If Harry had shown up around here people would be jumping all over him and news like that would have made its way back to England." Ron ran his fingers through his hair for about the twelfth time causing it stand almost straight up until moments later when it would fall pathetically back around his face. "Even if Harry had shown his face around here there's no way in hell he'd use his name."

"An alias? Ron you're brilliant!" Hermione shouted excitedly pulling out one of her previously skimmed periodicals.

"How does that help? Even if we know he's using an alias how the hell would we know what it was?" he asked confused as Hermione quickly flipped the pages of her newspaper articles.

She suddenly smiled and held up a finger for him to listen as she quickly read a passage aloud. "James Black was accidentally shot in the foot with a nail gun on July 25th 1999. It was reported that Mr. Black will be filing a lawsuit against Ganger Construction for the first aid techniques that nearly caused the amputation of his foot…"

Ron stared back at her blankly as she ripped out the article and quickly shoved it in her pocket. "I don't get it."

"That's Harry," Hermione said pointedly.

"Harry's not stupid enough to shoot himself with a nail gun, whatever the hell that is," Ron replied watching her.

"Why not? Plenty of people do it. You've never used muggle devices before. They're tricky."

"James Black? Seems too ambiguous to point to anything," he continued with doubt etched across his face.

"That's why it's perfect. It's common enough to not draw attention but think about it. James, as in his father, and Black as in Sirius. It's so completely perfect in its obviousness." She smiled at him triumphantly. "It's as if he was practically begging for us to find him."