- Chapter 1. - HP

Disclaimer: Not mine. I make no money from writing this.

It was Don's fault really. Just so happening to leave That Diary in my office. He knows how curious I am. That Diary. The one with a basilisk-fang-hole in it.

It was seven o'clock at night, late enough for him to still be working.

I opened it up to see if there was anything inside. Of course, with my luck, there was. It was addressed to me. I peeked at the bottom of the page to see if it was signed. It was. The words, "Sincerely, The Flight From Death," lay scrawled out in a neat 12-point font. The nickname was clever, especially to those of us who knew French. The note was, sigh, from Tom M. Riddle.

I scanned through the letter, looking for anything of importance. It was mostly meaningless mush until I stumbled upon something that caught my eye.

The words, "Potter go WEST, you idiot because you're an immigrant. Go visit the damn statue of your lady." The words were at least helpfully written in bold. I decided at that moment that I would see where the diary took me. After all, nothing worse could happen than Albus Dumbledore rewriting time and taking me to an orphanage.

It was odd though, that Riddle would make me go west. From what I knew, only Hollywood was over there. It clicked in a moment of my crazy-madness mind that he meant for me to go to Long Island in New York. Hey, why not take a vacation?

I found Don in his office, filing papers.

"Don, Don?" I said, nearly shouting.

"What Potter?" he snapped.

"Do you have papers so I could take a couple of days, weeks, maybe off?" I asked.

"Why would you want that?" he questioned. "In all seven years you've worked here, not once, not once, have you ever taken even an hour. What's changed?"

"Look, Don, I don't even know. All I know is that I'm supposed to go to New York. Heck Don, I don't even know when I'm going to be back."

"Sheesh kid, have the time you need."

"Thanks, Don," I said.

He passed me the papers I would need and I filled them out as I packed up my office and floo'ed home to grab the bare necessities. I also grabbed my wand, the diary, my potions, especially the one for Portkey dizziness, and… I was forgetting something. Something in me wanted to grab the Hallows. So I supposed I might as well. I floo-called Ron and Hermione to let them know I would be away from the Cottage. Luna and Neville were also away visiting a Magical Florist in France.

I strode to the elevators and took one to the third floor, Magical Transportation. Through all the chaos, I found Liz.

"Liz, I need your help to go to New York."

"Hey punk, how ya doin'? Why do you need to go to NYC? Why do you need my help going there?" She spitfire asked me.

"1, I am not a punk, honestly, you act way too much like Tonks to only be her half-cousin six or something times removed, you act more like her sister. And 2. It's none of your business about why I'm going there."

Liz started walking away. "It is too my business. Tell me and I'll send you over, no-hassle."

"Liz, you're technically hassling me right now, but whatever. I need the 'key so I can find something or someone. I'm not sure."

Liz stopped walking so fast, I almost bumped into her.

"Okay," she said, "have your 'key. Over there," she motioned with her arm to a platform where people were departing from. "Is where you'll Portkey from."

She passed me her business card and whispered the charm to turn it into a portkey. She shrunk my stuff and sent me on my way.