Sorry y'all for the LONG delay.  I got caught up in college admissions and senior year high school stuff.  Life gets in the way, what can I say.  I really hope my reviewers are still out there.  And if not, I totally understand, and maybe some freshies will find this story.  Anyway, I had forgotten how fun writing is, so hopefully now that I remember, I will write more often!

"How dare you threaten Harry!"  Kindora said as her hand left a red mark on Silas's cheek.  The paparazzi were crawling out of the bushes for this fight!

"Get out of my way!" Silas grumbled.

"No!  Harry Potter came all the way from England to have a nice California trip!  What do think you are doing?" Kindora questioned.

"My father, Lord Voldemort, that's V-O-L-D-E-M-O-R-T, sent me here to kill him!" Silas spat out with a really well rehearsed grimace.  He secretly wanted to be an actor.  But don't blame him; everyone considers acting as a career.  Most people just grow out of it by the time they are twelve.

"What!  Voldemort sent you to kill me?" Harry shouted, sounding stunned.

"Yes!  And I was so thrilled to carry out his orders because I am so proud that the most evil wizard in the world is my FATHER!" Silas answered back.

"Does your father often send you to kill his enemies?  Or was Harry Potter just too hard for him to kill himself?"  Kindora asked, putting her arm around Harry's shoulder.

Ginny and the paparazzi leaned in closer.

"No, this was the first time my father has ever contacted me.  He has always been too embarrassed of me!"  Silas said, hiding his face with his hands.

"Why was Voldemort embarrassed to have a son like you?" Harry asked.

"Because I am a SQUIB!" Silas shouted as removed the hands that were covering his eyes.  He swept his arms up and around,  over his head to put a little extra dramatic flair to his words.

"OH MY!  Voldemort has a SQUIB SON!" Kindora pronounced.

"That is right!  My mother was a muggle."

The reporters and photographers surrounding Kindora could not hide themselves anymore.  People were jumping and cheering from the bushes.  "This story is worth the front page!"  came a cry from behind a lamp post

"How much do you think I could sell these pictures for?" asked one young photographer.

"Kindora can you slap him again?  I was out of focus the first time" said a brown haired photojournalist who was among the group approaching her.

Kindora looked over to the paparazzi as if noticing them for the first time.  "Oh hey there boys.  Long time no see.  I want you to put this in all of your little magazines, ok?  And try to print it in a few decent publications also.  It has to be believed." Kindora discussed with the men who actively photographing her.

"Yeah of course.  I write for the W.I.M.P.I Journal.  THE most respected newspaper.  This story will be believed" said a reporter.

"So Kindora, who is the black haired fella?  A new boyfriend?" asked another.

Harry looked to Kindora to lead the situation.  The others were being surrounded by various reporters asking similarly nosey questions. 

"Oh no, Harry Potter and I are just great friends."  Kindora smiled and winked at Harry.

"Hey Hey!  What was that wink for, Kindora?"  asked a man with a flower notepad.

"I did not wink." Kindora blushed

"So are you guys just friends or friends with benefits?"  continued the man with a flower notepad.

Kindora just laughed, "Oh my!  What do you think?"

"Wow" thought Harry, "Kindora would make a great actress someday."

"Hey Harry Potter!  I hear you are some sort of celebrity in England.  Have you landed any American movie roles so far?" said a reporter wearing camouflage.

Harry didn't know how to answer to these rudely posed questions.

"Say something about yourself, Harry."  Kindora whispered.

"No, I am not an actor.  My work is a lot harder.  Like for instance, I recently exposed Voldemort's return to the English wizarding public." Harry said, looking at Kindora for more clues as to how to handle the reporters.

"Did you?  How boring.  Harry, tell us instead about your love life!  Are you and Kindora really just friends?  Its ok, you can tell me, you can trust me" said a reporter.  The physiognomy of these men's sneering expressions and hungry eyes made Harry certain that he would never trust any of these guys.  Harry looked around and saw that the lovely Ginny was angrily scolding a reporter.   Hermione and Ron were also trying to send away the flashing cameras. 

"My love life is none of your business!"  Harry called to the men who suddenly ceased to be wanted company.  "You already have a front page story!  Why don't you go home and write it!"  

"Why?  Is the famous Mr. Potter not up to the job of a being a celebrity?  If you are going to date Kindora, you had better get used to us!"  Chided a particularly ugly photographer.

"I am not trying to be a celebrity!  I just want you to stop harassing me and my friends."  Harry tried to speak rationally.

"Which friend in particular?  We are not harassing Kindora.  She is used to us.  Are you nervous for the bushy brown haired girl or the red headed girl?  And does Kindora know about you two?  Or is your heart aching for the red headed boy?  Is that why you and Kindora are not going out?"  said a man who's face was hidden by a flashing camera.

"I am not going out with Kindora!"

"Right, you two just stay in, huh? Huh?" 

Harry pulled Kindora's wrist after that last remark.  He led her over to where Ginny, Hermione, Ron, Charlie, and Silas were being surrounded.  "We need to leave.  I think you guys have enough for the papers tomorrow.  Voldemort's squib son won't be a secret anymore."  Harry told everyone in a commanding voice.  Then he turned to Kindora, "how do we get out of this mess?"

"Gimme just a sec" Kindora said, whipping her blonde hair out of her eyes.  She reached into her Jimina Spell red designer handbag and pulled out what looked like an ordinary muggle cell phone.  "This muggle invention is so much more convenient than sticking your head in the fireplace.  I gave one to my entire staff" She explained to Harry. 

Kindora spoke barely louder than a whisper to whoever it was on the other end.  But when she flipped the phone shut she loudly declared "All, right guys, we have to leave.  We have lunch r reservations The Binge-n-Purge in one hour.  We don't want to miss it!"

Kindora led Charlie, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny out of the park.  Silas wanted to stay and get photographed.  His fifteen minutes fame was starting right now.  

"Kindora, why did you tell them where we were going for lunch?  We will be able to leave them for now but they will just meet us there."  Hermione asked.

"We are not going to eat at the Binge-Purge.  I just phoned my manager and he says that according to his sources, Ogdine Nordster is going to be there.  I just thought I'd send her a little present."  Kindora responded.

"So we are not going to have lunch?"  Ron said, sounding noticeably disappointed.

"How about we go to In-n-Out. That place rocks."

"We've already been there."  Ginny said, "We went in San Diego when we learned to drive."

"So?  It is California's finest; now in Arizona and Las Vegas, too." Charlie said.

"I don't know.  I sort of miss English food."  Hermione said.

"Are you kidding?"  Charlie shrieked, "when I got kicked out of England, my stomach was so relieved!"

"It's not just the food, Charlie" Hermione explained. "I want to go home."

"I thought you guys came to California so you could escape England.  Hermione, you wrote a whole essay about the worst school year ever.  When you guys arrived, it seemed like you never wanted to leave" Charlie said, starting to feel a little hurt.

"Well, a lot has happened since then and it is not just me who wants to go home."  Hermione said, nudging Ron in the ribs.   

"Yeah, I want to go wherever Hermione wants to go."  Ron said automatically.

The group had reached Charlie's blue Volvo station wagon, parked in the Bambi lot. 

"Well, there is not enough room for me in that, um, car."  Kindora said, looking at the dented muffler, "So unless you guys want to meet up later, this is goodbye."

"I want to meet up later" Harry said, he didn't think Ginny was quite jealous enough.  In fact, he didn't know what Ginny was thinking.  They weren't on the same wavelength anymore. 
"I don't want to meet up" Ginny said defiantly, "but thank you Kindora, for helping us expose Voldy's squib son."

"Why don't you want to hang with Kindora?"  Harry asked Ginny, with what he hoped was a blank expression on his face.

"Because Harry I am tired. Tired of this" Ginny said, her fiery red hair blowing in the wind.

"Ginny, tired of what?"  Harry said, stepping closer to her and trying to talk quieter.

"Tired of trying to make each other jealous" Ginny mumbled, playing with a strand of her red hair and avoiding eye contact.

Harry stood still, one step away from the fire.

"Ginny…"  Harry started to say, but his mouth was too dry.

Hermione and Ron were already seated in the car. Charlie was purposely standing, facing the opposite direction.  Kindora had given Charlie her cell phone number and was preparing to leave them, when she saw the tense positions of Ginny and Harry.  They were standing close to each other but not close enough.

Kindora started walking away from away from the car, but as she passed Harry, she whacked him on the back wither her Jimina Spell designer handbag.  The force of the hit from behind caused Harry to take a step a forward.  Ginny didn't step backward and so Harry's arms flung around her as he closed the gap.

Kindora gave him a little wink when Harry looked to see where the hit had come from.

"Bye Harry!"  Kindora cooed as she whipped her head around and walked away.

Harry didn't think any more, taking his courage from that little wink, he tightened his grip around Ginny and pulled her into a kiss.

This kiss had no disguises.  No leather pants.  Ginny had more of her senses with her this time, but she still didn't break away.  Ginny let her hands fly up into Harry's hair.  Though she had technically kissed Harry once before while he was under the poly juice potion, this time, they both knew what they were they doing.