Notes: This chapter has a lot of travel time, and no Twilight characters :p So slight boredom warning there. Other than that, trigger warning for those that really hate Ginny Weasley; Harry gives her a hug in this chapter :o
…
Harry awoke with the sun. He checked his newly gifted watch. It was indeed early, not even five in the morning.
Eager to be on his way, he got dressed and prepared all his notes, shoving them into his pockets. From his books, he'd noted down each letter port channel's location on a map to make for a shorter downtime in between.
Fawkes bristled at the early ruckus, but blinked his eyes open blearily. He would be guiding Harry to the first port channel.
Leaving a note on the kitchen table to Charlie, they ported off in a bout of fire, reappearing in an empty cliffside looking over Port Angeles. Harry clumsily transformed into his new form. Unbalanced by the sudden shrinking, he toppled over.
Right, he should probably figure out how to fly before throwing himself off a cliff.
He flapped his wings experimentally. It didn't do much, the slow awkward movements not obtaining enough thrust for take-off. Fawkes peered at him, his head tilted. The phoenix flapped his wings once, powerfully. The air vacuum sent Harry tumbling over himself again.
Fawkes feet barely rose from the ground before he landed again, coming to check on his now little friend.
Harry settled himself upright again. Spreading his wings, he brought them down with great speed. He felt his talons lift from the ground. He wanted to smile and laugh but his beak only allowed a warbling gurgle.
Flying came to him easily after figuring out the take-off. He glid excitedly across the sky, wings spread out as Fawkes watched him move.
Deeming him ready, the phoenix took off, guiding him towards a radio tower sitting innocuously on top of a hill. He landed in a tree further from it, staring at it imploringly. It seemed the Port Angeles' letter port channel was a common bird killer, how ironic. Perhaps they didn't like mail here?
Harry flew into it, falling through the metal as it pulled him away.
As expected, he ended up in one of Seattle's magical districts, several more obvious ports aligned along the wall. Harry zipped through to New York, crossing the continent in less than half a second. Merlin, this was so much better than plane rides. The next stop was a little island in the North Atlantic before he could make it into Britain.
The familiar smell of London's traffic fumes hit him full force. Gross, but it was home. He hopped out of the little room he'd ended up in, perching on a window in the topmost compartment of Big Ben. The clock tower only offered international travel ports, so he'd have to find another one able to bring him southwest towards Ottery St Catchpole.
It was mid-day in Britain, so people were out and about. Swooping down to a tiny side alley out of view, he transformed back. The sensation of flying was an unusual one with muscles previously unused suddenly finding themselves in a lot of work. Despite his love of the air, it felt good to be on two feet again.
He pulled out his map and examined it quickly. It seemed the quickest route on wing would be porting through to Bristol and from there to Exeter, which would land him a little under an hour's flight from his goal, the Burrow. Or, he mused, he could just apparate there.
Throwing up a notice-me-not, he did just that. The loud echoing crack marking his disappearance.
Landing shakily on the outskirts of the village, he transformed again, flying determinedly towards his second home. It didn't take him long, perhaps five minutes of flight, before he could spot the rickety building. Gliding around it, he tried to spot Ginny through the windows.
The clucking of chickens caught his attention as he perched on the side of the building.
With red hair tied up in a bun, Ginny was hauling a bucket of seeds around, throwing out handfuls to the pecking hens by her boots. She'd tanned somewhat from the summer sun, her freckles standing out even more against her pretty face. She put down the bucket for a moment, taking the time to stretch her back and wipe the sweat off her brow.
He wanted to immediately swoop down and hug her but repressed the desire. Dodging Bat-Bogey Hexes wasn't on his to-do list today.
Instead he slowly descended, landing on the fence in front of her.
"Oy, don't you come near the chickens," she warned as soon as she spotted the raptor bird. Harry quickly dodged the weakly powered stinging hex thrown at him. "Shoo, you great ugly beast," she yelled.
He wanted to sigh, this was getting too complicated. Screw it. He popped back into human form, sitting languidly on the fence. "Who are you calling ugly?"
Ginny seemed to go through a great many ranges of shock and other emotions before finally settling on highly alert and suspicious. Harry admired all the stages, lips tilted up in a smile. Hand out, ready to defend herself, and eyes narrowed, she stared him down. Merlin, how he'd missed her. "Who are you," she demanded.
"Wow, Gin, gone for two months and you've already forgotten me?"
She remained silent.
Harry really did sigh now. Thinking for a moment, he lifted the arm of his sweater, showing off the clock her mother had sent him. "This familiar?"
It took her a second, but then it clicked. "Mum really got Shacklebolt to send it," Ginny exclaimed. "She was up in arms with the man for two weeks. He'd thought it could risk your location being exposed." Her expression softened then. "It's you?"
He stood up, opening his arms. "In the flesh."
She hugged him tightly, face buried in his chest. "For the record, it was two and a half months," she muttered. He leaned down to embrace her closer, rubbing her back comfortingly.
"Ginny?" a new voice called in panic. "Ginny, who is that?"
Harry looked up at the familiar face of Molly Weasley, eyes wide in disbelief. "Hello, Mrs Weasley," he called back, Ginny still latched onto him.
Mrs Weasley hurried over, eyes raking over his face carefully. "Harry?" she breathed. Ginny let go then, smiling back at her mother with a nod. The younger girl would of course forever deny the wetness by her eyes.
"I wanted to thank you for the watch, Mrs Weasley," he started, but didn't get much further as the older woman gathered him up in a big hug.
"Oh dear," she sniffled, letting go and bringing his wrist between her hands. She examined the watch sadly. "It's a little worn, got a bulk on the back," she admitted sadly. "Fabian, my brother, he never took too much care with his things, but I couldn't afford another—"
"It's perfect," Harry interrupted, hugging her again. "Absolutely perfect. Thank you so much," he said sincerely.
She smiled up at him tearfully. "It was nothing, dear. Oh, come in and have some dinner, it's finished in just a bit."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Give me some time with him at least. He just arrived!"
"No better time for a bite to eat," her mother asserted easily.
Harry knew there'd be no arguing. The two followed after like ducklings into the kitchen. Besides the flying cutlery and utensils, it was empty.
"Arthur's still out," Mrs Weasley explained. He supposed Ginny was the only child left staying at home, her last year at Hogwarts starting this fall. "Take a seat, dear."
"I'll be right back," Ginny called, running up the stairs to change into new clothes.
Charming the knives to butter some bread, Mrs Weasley turned, asking concernedly, "How did you ever manage to get here? You didn't take a portkey did you?"
He shook his head quickly. "Don't worry, Mrs Weasley, no one saw me." He wringed his hands under the table, slightly nervous. Hesitatingly, he answered, "I've become an animagus."
She dropped the ladle into the stew with an audible plop. "An animagus? On your own?" She examined him once again, no doubt checking for a missed set of ears. "Well, it seemed you escaped unharmed. Many wizards have been mutated grotesquely, you know?"
Harry smiled at her worry. "Oh is that where that tail came from," he asked innocently.
Mrs Weasley shook her head, chuckling. "Oh dear, you children's antics will send me to St Mungo's one of these days."
"Suppose a bird's quite fitting," Ginny cut in, re-entering the kitchen.
"He's a bird? Well that explains how he got here. What kind, dear?"
Harry shrugged. "I think a falcon."
"You must enjoy the flying," Mrs Weasley smiled knowingly.
He grinned. "It's strange, but wonderful."
They ate in peace. It felt good to be home. He spent several hours more with Ginny, meeting Mr Weasley as well before the evening. It had perhaps been a mistake to visit her first, he realized as the time ticket by on his watch. But he was glad he'd spent the time with her.
"I should get going," he whispered regretfully, as they laid next to each other at night. "Got a couple more stops before home."
She held him tightly in a hug before letting go. "You better come around again soon. Say hi to Ron and Hermione for me."
A kiss later and a goodbye to the senior Weasleys and Harry was off. Apparating back to London he flew up to the famous clock tower, slipping through to Germany. From there he could make it directly to Romania's capital, his next objective the dragon reservation. Ron and his brother should be living in the vicinity.
The night was dark as he flew across the sky, gliding through the local ports to get further north. The Dragon Sanctuary sat warded against muggles and escapee dragons in the mountainous region.
After a bout of fire almost set his tailfeathers alight, he decided to go looking for his best friend another time. Hopefully when he had more specific coordinates. A clue to where he could avoid the nesting mothers would also be helpful.
It was perhaps mid-afternoon in Forks now, but he was already exhausted. At least he wouldn't have to guess at Hermione's address. The trip to the new continent was longer, taking him through the lower region of Asia. Arriving in the Australian morning, he found her house after another peek at the map. The lights were still turned off in her room.
Perching gently outside her window, he tapped on the glass. The irritating sound eventually seemed to get to her.
Throwing the covers off, Hermione stalked over to the window, her hair puffed up in annoyance. She opened the window, ready to shoo him off. Harry bolted through before she could, unshrinking and landing on his feet in the middle of the room. "Nice place," he commented.
Hermione's hand was flung out before the last syllable, aiming to send him into the wall. The only thing preventing it being Harry's protego. He raised his hands up in surrender, smile on his lips.
She stared at him, eyes narrowed. "Show me your patronus," she demanded.
A twitch of a finger and Prongs sprang out happily, loping around the room before coming to a halt. He looked at them both curiously.
Identity confirmed, Hermione slapped him lightly across the head. "You idiot!"
"Oy." He held his hands up again, now in defence. "I came here to give you a hug, and this is what I get?"
She threw her arms around him, still calling him an idiot, of course. "You brewed it on your own?" she questioned after letting go, immediately grasping the situation.
"Well I suppose Fawkes acted as moral support."
"You are aware how dangerous that is? Are you suffering another stroke of insanity?"
"No, I'm quite enjoying it," he quipped.
She shook her head, arms crossed, before giving in to her curiosity. "Oh let me see it again."
He obliged, body shrinking in the now familiar fashion.
"Of course," she huffed, "honestly, I don't even know why I'm surprised."
Once human again, he asked, "About what?"
"You're a peregrine falcon. Known for their speed and spectacular dives." She rolled her eyes at the last part. "Although your feathers don't match the standard colour palette," she remarked.
Harry shrugged. Colours deviating from the original animal wasn't exactly uncommon in animagi.
They spent hours talking, Hermione catching him up on the two months apart. She was able to tell him most of what Ron had been up to as she'd had daily contact with him through the two-way mirror. It felt nice hearing about his two best friends' summer, although his heart still ached to see Ron in person.
His eyes widened in realization. "Hermione! The mirror still works?"
She looked up, comprehension spreading to her eyes. "Oh, that'll do." Rustling around in search of the communication device, Hermione eventually found the thing laying under her pillow. "We were chatting the other night, I must've fallen asleep with it and somehow stuffed it under there."
She tried calling for Ron through it.
"It's the middle of the night for him," Hermione remembered. "He must be sleeping."
"No point trying then, he sleeps like a log." Checking his watch, it was almost six in the evening back in Forks. "I ought to be going soon," he said regretfully. "I'll come here first next time, maybe we'll be able to get a hold of Ron then. Almost got blasted by a dragon looking for him today."
"What, you can outfly a horntail on your broom but not with your own wings?" she teased.
"I'll have you know I only first transformed yesterday. For a first-time flier I'd say I did quite well."
"Guess natural talent isn't all it's made up to be," Hermione smirked. "When will you be able to return?" she asked before he could comment further.
"Next weekend, maybe sooner. The travel doesn't take long, but," he trailed off. It wasn't easy to just stay an hour or two after all.
Hermione must've understood, she nodded.
"Oh and I'm going to muggle high school, would you believe it?"
Her brown eyes widened with amusement. They chatted more, Hermione eagerly enquiring about Harry's summer studying. Before parting ways, the re-appearance of the Hallows came to mind.
He hesitated, sat in the open window. Should he perhaps mention it another time? He didn't want to stress out his friend when it was unlikely she'd have any further information. And as he'd already resolved to ignore it for now, perhaps it was simply unnecessary.
Hermione, however, quickly noticed his indecision. "What's wrong?" she asked.
He looked up at her, scratching the back of his head in thought before deciding. He may as well tell her. Besides, she already knew about the Death stick having followed him even as wooden fragments. "On the morning of my birthday," he paused, frowning in thought. Sighing, he simply held out his left hand, palm down. "This suddenly appeared."
It took a second before she noticed it. A gasp escaped her lips. She grasped his hand, taking a closer look. "You said you left this in the forest, before—" she stopped abruptly. His best friends knew what had happened that day. "I'll try to do some research," she promised, aware of the likelihood of it being a futile effort. "The wand pieces are still with you too?"
Harry shook his head. "Not pieces anymore," he corrected bitterly.
"I see," Hermione murmured, biting her lip uneasily. "Mr Lovegood told us what you become by reuniting the three," she said carefully, unwilling to voice the ridiculous title.
Harry shook his head. "He never said what that actually entails though. Besides, I was never one of those," he huffed a breath, "questers or whatever. I'm just unlucky." Honestly he was more or less just resigned to the impossibilities occurring around him now.
"Most would probably regard you as rather lucky after everything," she smiled, trying to lift the mood. "But I suppose for you, this really isn't all that out of the ordinary."
He scowled playfully before shrugging. "At least there were books on, well, the philosopher's stone for example. I don't even know where to start looking for this. The fairy-tale is the only written account I know of, and I can't think of anything useful it may have said."
"It's unlikely there's much of any theory written down about them. Most believe it's just a children's story."
"I wish it was," he muttered. Hermione patted his arm comfortingly.
"We'll figure it out. Mr Lovegood seemed to think there were more of those questers out there, and Professor Dumbledore must've gotten his information from somewhere." The challenge seemed rejuvenating to his friend, always up for another mystery. "We'll find out what this all means."
Harry wished he could feel as confident as his friend.
Soon after, he finally set off for home. Travelling across the Pacific was less flying due to the long-distance ports, as opposed to the country by country travelling between Europe, Asia and Australia. After such a tiring and long day, Harry was grateful for the break it offered his wings.
He swooped through his open window, transforming mid-air and landing with a thud into the soft mattress, legs hanging off. "That's nice," he sighed happily. Fawkes squawked at him from his perch, flapping his wings in surprise at his sudden appearance, but remained perched. Harry waved at him, too tired for more words.
Harry didn't know the time, but he knew it was late. Kicking his shoes off and crawling further into bed he soon lost consciousness.
…
Notes: Phew, as warned there was a loooot of travel time this chapter. Now that I've described it once I'll just say he popped up here or there whenever he goes to visit ;P
Also, shorter chapter ;_; Only about 2.9K words. I just didn't wanna start his first day of school in the same chapter he was travelling all over the world :p
Lastly, I thought I'd mention that this story is sort of a slice of life, I think? I'm just writing out scenes and ideas into a plot that takes Harry places. I don't have some great big bad enemy in mind for Harry to fight down with his magical powers of friendship. I'm just enjoying disintegrating my keyboard.