Authors Notes:

Words contained that some readers may not be familiar with:

'DIY': Do It Yourself – Kiwis, particularly men, are notorious for trying to fix things up themselves rather than hire professionals

'Panadiene': Pain relief

'grand': Colloquial expression for 'thousand'

'TradeMe': www.trademe.co.nz - the New Zealand equivalent of e-bay.

'boot': compartment of a car otherwise known as 'trunk'

Chapter 7: Blending In

~ ~

The room was dank and dim, a rivulet of water running down to the floor from the edge of a window, from a puddle of rainwater on the sill outside. The only light the room offered was from the dying embers of the fire, fighting for continued life, as they periodically burned brighter before the occasional one would extinguish completely; and from the reflected moonlight splashed around the room.

The darkest wizard of all time had been sitting here in an armchair, waiting, and still sat. Still waiting. Growing increasingly impatient. Of all the people in the world to test the patience of, the infamous Lord Voldemort would be the choice most detrimental to your health. Yet this was exactly what Seth, an esteemed follower, was doing. Not on purpose, surely, as the consequences for such an act would be dire.

Voldemort snarled impatiently to himself, his tolerance levels near breaking point. Just as he let out another disgruntled breath and watched one of the last embers of the fire die out, the doors to the room crashed open, the handle of one hitting the wall to leave an imprint. A cloaked figure ran hurriedly in, tossing back his hood sending small rain droplets sprinkling to the floor. His short, messy, stringy hair peeked out from around his ears, and a patch was balding at the back of his head to leave a shiny disc of scalp.

"My Lord," he started, fearfully, and rightly so. "I apologise profusely for keeping you waiting. I meant no disrespect – none at all!" His beady black eyes were wide with apprehension and they searched his Master's face for tell-tale signs of forgiveness. Which of course, he found none. Voldemort stared levelly at Seth.

"It is only because of your previous loyalty and work on my behalf that I do not smite you where you stand, right now," the Dark Lord explained, though his voice was frighteningly menacing. He appraised his minion with a narrowed gaze, giving the impression of hidden knowledge, and that it were best not to lie, in case the liar should be caught out.

"My Lord," the man, Seth, began again, in an effort to redeem himself, "I have done what you required, my Lord. Harry Potter has been taken effortlessly from Hogwarts without immediate commotion, and transported to the place you specified, to confront him."

If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then Voldemort had no soul to speak of. His eyes showed nothing but black, cold disdain.

"Ah," he said, and Seth felt the unease at the next words before they came from the Dark Lord's mouth. "Any…complications, Seth? If there had been, you would tell me, wouldn't you?"

A lump had formed in Seth's throat, which try as he might, he could not dislodge. Voldemort knew the answer to his own question. For Seth to deny it would invite his own death. His voice quavered as he admitted, "Only slightly, my Lord, but it holds no threat to you, my Lord." He averted his gaze as he attempted to breathe levelly.

"And what is it you have done, Seth Forscythe?" the cold voice of Voldemort pierced through the chill of the room again.

"I- I- The spell was a little, uh…strong, my Lord," he fought to get the words out. "It enveloped the Potter boy and took him, but…" he swallowed thickly past the still-present lump in his throat, "…it also acquired those in the immediate vicinity of him, my Lord. Anyone within a distance of approximately ten feet." Voldemort waited, in silent prompting for his follower to elaborate. "It took two of his friends, my Lord, and…" he stopped, to gauge the reaction of his Master to this new information, "…and the son of Lucius Malfoy, my Lord."

To the Death Eater's surprise, Voldemort showed no reaction to this information. The Dark Lord only breathed in and out at a slow and level pace, his measured breaths making Seth even more afraid of the surely brewing anger underneath. The Death Eater saw a malicious glint in his Master's eyes, which led him to believe there was something else. Something bigger. The cold sweat on Seth's palms was making them clammy, and he gritted his teeth in anxiety.

"My Lord?" he ventured, in unspoken question of what else was bothering his Master.

Voldemort let the unspoken question hang in the air, before replying in measured tones, "Where did you send him, Seth Forscythe?"

"Uh," Seth started. He could not see what the problem was here – he had done exactly what Voldemort had said. "Hastings, my Lord, 'away from those who can help him', just as you dictated. And I made sure to cover him with an concealed location charm to ensure no one could find him if they did not already know his whereabouts, my Lord." This added information was uttered in a last-ditch attempt at attaining any form of approval from his Master, but then gaining an ounce of confidence, he added somewhat boastfully, "I believe their focus will be turned away from you, my Lord, for a time. A muggle thing was magically manipulated enough to make particular muggles at Potter's arrival spot suspect they had summoned the students."

Voldemort acted as if he hadn't heard this last piece of Seth's monologue. Perhaps he felt it to be of little or no importance. "Hastings. Yes, you did indeed," he started, and now he began to ominously rise from his chair, his eyes flashing dangerously as his voice rose. "Hastings, New Zealand, you insolent fool! Why would I want him sent to the other side of the world, when I am here?! What is that meant to accomplish?"

Seth stammered. "M- My Lord, I-" He cowered under the daunting form of his Master.

"It's not that you're protecting this boy, is it, Forscythe?" Voldemort almost whispered. "To send him to the Hastings furthest from me, and so I may not find him?"

"N- No, my Lord!" Seth replied, adamantly. Now that the foolishness of his action was confronting him, he could not see how the mistake could have been allowed to happen. After all, he knew the Dark Lord would reside in Hastings, England, for the month following, for something his Master had not divulged information on, and Seth had certainly not asked.

"You know, of course," Voldemort began, his tone now unnervingly calm, "that I am infinitely disappointed in you, Forscythe. You have sent the boy far away from me, and covered him with a Concealing Charm, which is now serving him as a form of protection…"

Seth's eyes widened in fear at the inevitable. The last thing he saw was Lord Voldemort's grim face illuminated by a green light, before he saw nothing at all.

"But I will find him," the dark wizard continued, his voice leaking out into the night. "Though it will take time, I will find him."

~ ~

Trina pulled back each curtain of the caravan to allow the morning light in, although she made sure that the net curtains of the windows facing the house were still closed. It certainly wouldn't do for Tony's family to see the newcomers.

"Just how long is she planning to take?" Draco asked, whiningly.

Trina couldn't hold in a sigh of frustration at being in such close proximity of such an arrogant person for as long as she had. It was like babysitting a spoilt toddler. Trina looked up to the small analogue clock on the wall. Tony had been gone for about a couple of hours.

"She should be back soon," Trina said, exasperatedly. "She was only going to one place-"

A voice, singing jovially, was approaching the caravan, and it had reached the volume where it was noticeable enough to get Trina's attention. She strode to the end window and peered out to see if it was Tony returning with the 'emergency clothes'. With a smile, she saw her friend approaching, jauntily swinging two large plastic Hallensteins bags. Her voice became louder as she neared them.

"…38 bottles of beer on the wall, 38 bottles of beer…take one down, pass it around…37 bottles of beer on the wall…37 bottles of beer on the wall…37 bottles of beer…" Having reached the caravan door by this stage, she threw it open, her song cut off. "Hey, people," she smiled widely.

"Whoa," Trina said to her, looking wary. "You've had too much sunshine. You're much too…awake."

Tony rolled her eyes and poked her tongue out at her best friend. "A morning walk into town in the sun will do that to you."

"Thanks for the warning," Trina replied comically. "So, what did you get?"

Tony's face lit up in excitement as she reached into a Hallensteins bag and pulled out a smaller bag, this one made of paper. "Oh, I got a modem cable for my computer, so when I go away from home-"

"For them," Trina interrupted. "What did you get for them?"

"Oh." Tony now looked much less excited. She upturned the large bags onto the bed, and a mass of new clothes spilled out, in all their vibrant-coloured glory.

Harry of course, didn't seem too unnerved by this sight, being used to the concept of 'muggle' clothing, but Ron looked like he thought the pile would jump up and bite him, while Draco was eyeing it up as if it were some sort of foul toxic waste. Hermione was looking over the pile of clothes sceptically – this boys' apparel wasn't so appealing to her, although she would have gathered for herself that the boxers she'd seen among the mess weren't intended for her.

"I got stuff for you too, Hermione," assured Tony. "You don't have to wear those." She reached under the colourful mountain to pull out another smaller bag – this one labelled, 'Glassons'.

"I thought you didn't go to Glassons anymore," Trina commented as Tony pulled several articles of clothing from the newly unearthed bag.

"I don't," Tony affirmed. "Not for things for me, anyway. But I thought this stuff would look pretty good on her."

"I am not wearing any of those hideous things," Draco drawled, looking back at the clothing from Hallensteins. "That orange thing looks like the sun itself just exploded all over it!"

"Fine," Tony responded. "Go naked."

Trina couldn't refrain from giving Tony a small, amused smile at this and raising an eyebrow in silent teasing. Tony responded with an innocent couldn't-help-myself expression, smiling abashedly.

"I figured you wouldn't like bright stuff," Tony said to Draco, "but we can't have you wearing all black all the time – you look like you're off to a perpetual funeral. So I got you this instead." She threw something dark at Draco, who jumped back a little as if it was a dangerous creature, before approaching it with a look on his face suited to someone on death row.

"Who's in the house, Tony?" Trina asked suddenly. "I mean, who might possibly see these guys?"

"Well," Tony responded thoughtfully, "Mum's sleeping from her night-shift, Dad's at the other house doing DIY work on it, Rebekah will be sleeping in until some ungodly hour – we won't have to worry about her for a while, and I guess Caroline and Bethany will be in the lounge with the TV and the computer there. Those two I think are the only ones worth worrying about." She appeared to be concentrating for a moment. "Wait," she said. "I have an idea."

She grabbed her wallet and went into the house.

Only about five minutes later, the two youngest – Caroline and Bethany – were seen keenly trotting past the caravan window, down the driveway and around the corner. Tony returned with a smile.

"All clear."

"What did you tell them?" Trina asked.

"To go play in the park, and I gave them five dollars each for lollies or whatever they can get with that. They'll be gone for at least an hour. Probably more if they go down the road to visit their friends, which they probably will."

Trina looked down at the clothes pile sprawled haphazardly over the bed. "Now we just have to get you guys changed," she said.

Ron spoke up. "I'm not getting changed anywhere near Malfoy!"

"Brilliant," came the replying drawl, "then I'll be spared the trauma."

Trina sighed and heavily sat on the edge of the bed. This was turning out to be a long day…

After seemingly endless frustrations over who would change where, Tony had just thrown her hands into the air and told the English visitors to figure it out for themselves. She'd shown them where the shower was, given them towels, and left them to it, while she went off the kitchen to nurse her headache with a glass of water and some Panadiene.

She and Trina now sat at the dining room table, steaming coffees in front of them, and Tony's two budgies mindlessly chattering behind them.

"Do you have a plan?" Tony asked hopefully.

Trina sighed and looked defeated as she laid her head down onto her arms. "Of course not. This isn't the kind of thing you just have a plan for. I mean, think about it; Harry Potter – the Harry Potter – is actually real. And not only that, he turns up at your door. Now, tell me that doesn't sound like some little girl's wish come true?"

"Yeah, alright," Tony admitted. "Not the kind of thing you'd have planned for." Reflecting on Trina's statement, she added, "It does sound really…fake and childish-dream, doesn't it?"

"Except, in the childish dream," Trina commented, stirring her coffee aimlessly, "Harry would fall in love with whoever it was he turned up to see, life would be rosy, and they would all live happily ever after."

Tony laughed into her coffee, sending a little bit splashing over the side of the cup and onto the table. "Yeah," she laughed, "there's that. But then, if they ever actually got him turning up at their door, they would see that there would be too much to figure out and too much frustration and confusion for there to be time for all that love stuff!"

Trina looked at her friend amusedly over her cup. "You like Draco, though. You know how you were before they turned up! You didn't sound so mature and above all that then."

"I like Draco? Now that," Tony corrected quickly, "is where you're very wrong.  I'm attracted to the Draco of the movies, and I think the voice of Draco in the audio books is insanely funny, but that does not mean I have to even remotely like the little sod."

"I can't argue with that," Trina responded. "I believe you. You always tended to go for the bad guys anyway, and as I recall, out of all your past boyfriends there was only one that you actually liked."

Tony frowned. " 'All your past boyfriends'…honestly, you make it sound like I had an army of them! There was only three! Anyway, remind me, again, how this has anything to do with solving our problem here? If we're going to talk about something so pointless, I might bring up your 'boyfriend' Bon-Bon…"

"Ok, ok," Trina held up a hand. "I won't hassle you about that then. I was just having a bit of fun, though."

The air grew silent, save for the sound of the running water of the shower down the hall, and the budgies making the occasional 'peep'. All humour had died, and the two Kiwi girls grew serious. Which, even they had to acknowledge, didn't happen often at all.

"We're screwed, aren't we?" Trina asked, rhetorically.

After a long pause, Tony answered, "Well, we have two options. We could just take no responsibility for it, tell them sorry and wish them luck as we herd them out the door…"

Trina looked distinctly uncomfortable with that idea. "That would be cold," she said. "I know we didn't ask for this, but we couldn't just leave them to fend for themselves out there – halfway around the globe from home, and with no wands."

Tony looked at the small amount of coffee in her cup, and drained it. Holding the still-warm empty cup in her hands, she said softly, "well, if not that…then that only leaves us with Option Two."

Although Trina knew her friend couldn't have turned Hermione and the boys out onto the streets either, the thought 'Option Two' obviously wasn't cheering her up any – whatever that option was.

"What's Option Two?"

Tony looked up; surprised that Trina hadn't come to the conclusion herself. But then, that Option was such a big decision Tony would never have believed it herself, unless it was uttered plain and clear.

"We take them back," Tony said resignedly. "Ourselves."

Trina's eyes widened in shock.

"Not right to the front door of Hogwarts, obviously," Tony clarified. "I mean, we can't do magic – I don't know if we'd even be able to get in. But we could take them somewhere in England, where they can find their own way to the school from."

"But- but…" Trina started, unable to finish her sentence, still trying to get her head around the idea.

"Look," Tony said, "I'm betting that the others over there don't even know where these guys are. If they did, then something would have happened by now. Someone would have apparated here perhaps, or Harry would have at least been contacted."

Trina, although still stunned by the enormity of the idea, was starting to see the sense of it.

"They have two weeks to be contacted by Dumbledore, or someone else who could help."

Trina looked confused. "Two weeks?"

Tony didn't look happy as she said, "I'll have to hand in my notice, at the vet clinic. I'll need to work two weeks from that."

Trina gasped, unable to form the question of why all this had to happen.

"Really," Tony said, "we have the money for this. We'd even planned this – we just now have 4 extra people that weren't in the original plan." She flopped back against the back of her chair. "You already have your passport. I'll get mine sorted in the fastest possible time, and hand in my notice at work."

Trina, although she'd known that she would sometime leave New Zealand on this trip, looked a little saddened by the thought now.

"The OE was always going to happen," Tony said with finality. "It's just come a little bit earlier than we anticipated."

Trina looked at her incredulously.

"By 'a little bit'," Tony amended, "I mean 'a lot bit', obviously."

Any response Trina may have given was cut short by the arrival of a surly looking figure that slumped down in a chair at the end of the table.

"Well, aren't we a bundle of sunshine…" Trina said.

However humiliating Draco may have found his current predicament, he redeemed himself by saying, "Weasley obviously couldn't decide which shirt he looked most ridiculous in, so he decided on wearing them both."

If Draco could be described as anything, in his new clothes, it could by no counts be 'ridiculous'. His shower had washed away all traces of the paste-like gel from his hair, so it now hung in a damp white curtain. Despite all her protests against having Draco wear black, Tony had allowed him to wear stylish black pants, accompanying a dark blue shirt unbuttoned at the collar. Even Trina had to admit that he really didn't look bad now, at all. Not that she'd admit this out loud though, of course. He smelled alluringly of Lynx, which led her to believe he'd discovered the can of it under the bathroom sink, where fortunately, there was no hair gel.

"Ron could wear a gold-lined robe with a gem-studded collar," Tony said, "and you'd still say he looked ridiculous."

Draco gave the first hint of a smile they had seen since he arrived. Albeit a rather derisive smile, it was still a start. "Weasley? Wearing a robe like that? I don't know what he could possibly have traded for that – even his soul's not worth that much."

"Maybe he traded yours." Tony replied. "For about half a sequin."

Draco looked dissatisfied – it appeared now that Tony wasn't going to get angry at his comments, but rather try to match them.

The sound of the lounge door opening made the two girls look up, and they saw Hermione walk in to meet them. She of course didn't look as awkward as the Slytherin visitor, as she would have been familiar with muggle clothing – coming from a muggle family herself. She also had black pants, with a small diamante design studded at the hip. A complimenting diamante hairclip, which Tony had snatched up as an afterthought, held some of her chestnut waves back off her face, before they spilled over her shoulder and her lilac bolero. The ensemble was completed by the smile she gave as she approached.

"Much better than that stodgy uniform," Trina appraised.

Draco looked grumpy. "She gets to wear a black top," he grumbled, referring to the close-fitting top under the lilac jacket.

Tony looked at him amusedly. "That's because she doesn't look like she's going to keel over and die from anaemia."

Trina drained her coffee cup and stood from the table. "Are the others finished?" she said, heading toward the kitchen sink to wash out her cup.

"I'd think so," Hermione ventured. "We can go knock on the caravan door and ask."

"They'll be done," Tony concluded. "If Draco's finished with his seemingly incessant preening…" she let the comment hang unfinished in the air, her point already taken.

Upon taking up Hermione's suggestion and knocking on the caravan door where they were promptly let in, they saw that the boys had indeed finished changing, and appeared to have been talking about their hapless situation while casually sitting in the warm environment.

Draco couldn't repress a smirk at Ron's attire. Or rather, didn't want to repress the smirk. Ron didn't look ridiculous as Draco had concluded, but was still apparently uncomfortable in the strange get-up. He was wearing rather large blue skater jeans, which he had been protesting over the size of, until Harry had informed him it was fashionable. If New Zealand fashion was running along similar lines as the rest of the world, anyway, which it appeared to. The orange t-shirt that Draco had found so offensive didn't look so glaring at all, now that it was on someone that actually suited it. Only a strip down the middle could be seen of it though, as a second layer – a short-sleeved navy shirt – largely covered it. He looked the epitome of Casual, and really not ridiculous at all.

Hermione, Draco, and the two hosts of the group found seats around the caravan, Tony relishing in the concentrated heat of the morning that the caravan gave. Limited insulation meant that the room was bitterly cold in the dead of winter, but when the sun came up it was the first spot to get warm.

"He still looks like, well, him," Draco was the first to point out, motioning at Harry.

With the lightning scar and his characteristic glasses, there was no mistaking his conspicuousness. However it now wasn't so apparent he was different from any other non-magical boy – his robes had been discarded in favour of beige cargo pants and a dark grey t-shirt, topped with a green camouflage jacket that intensified the colour of his eyes.

With this silent reminder, Tony said, "We have to get those glasses sorted. They have to go."

Harry looked uncertain about this, so Tony assured him that he would be allowed to keep them of course, but that he would need a temporary replacement.

She crossed the room to pick up a small tube of concealer, and squirted some out onto the tip of her finger, while commenting to Harry, "You're pretty tanned, so this should blend right in."

Draco looked highly amused, but didn't voice his opinion again, still influenced by the humiliating shadow of Trina's cut down of his impeccable dress habits.

Harry looked rather intimidated. "Are you sure that's going to work?" he asked. As much as he relished the idea of being able to walk down the street without drawing attention to his scar, the idea of wearing make-up was mortifying – a feeling that would only be defeated if the method actually worked.

"This dinky tube," Tony said, brandishing the tube in demonstration, "cost $30! If it didn't work, I'd personally go to the chief manufacturer and smear it over his eyeballs until they exploded in a rain of tanned jelly!"

The others in the caravan looked rather shocked – Draco with a trace of reverent surprise – with the exception of Trina, who let out a boisterous laugh.

"She's just kidding, people," she said, by way of reassurance. But all the same, Harry still tensed almost imperceptibly as Tony approached him and started blending the concealer into his skin, over the scar – relaxing only when Tony drew back with a satisfied and very un-lethal looking smile and said, "There. Finished."

The result, Harry had to admit, was very good – the scar had seemingly vanished.

"Ok, so you all look different, but that is just the beginning," Trina said, bringing them all back down to Earth. "First things first - we need to get ourselves sorted for tonight. As much as staying here in this caravan is good, eventually Tony's parents are going to want to see her face, and they might get a shock to find four new ones attached!"

Tony nodded and grabbed Trina's arm. "What about if Hermione stays at your place for a night or so – it'll be easy to put the boys up at that motel down the road – and you can tell your Parental Units that we're going on a road trip."

Trina shook her head. "Slight problem: we are going to England!" She drew it out so it sounded as if it were the most basic of ideas and that Tony was silly for even suggesting it. "Hermione staying with us is one thing, but me leaving to go to England at a moment's notice is a whole different novel altogether!"

"Then you have a couple of weeks to get them used to the idea," Tony said grimly. "Besides, I wasn't suggesting that you lie. We will be going on a road trip – up to Auckland. We'll take a plane to England at the International Airport up there."

"How far is it to Auckland?" Hermione inquired, out of interest.

Trina turned to her. "About six hours drive."

"That's if you don't stop," Tony added. "Which won't be us. If we," she motioned to herself and her best friend, "are going to leave the country early, we're going to soak in as much memory as we can. Well, from the good places anyway. But from between here and Auckland, we'd only be covering about half the North Island. Still, it'll be good for you to see it too. Too many foreigners think New Zealand is a desolate primitive tribal land with sheep wandering the streets, or something equally disgusting." She shuddered at the mental image.

"How will we get there?" Ron asked. "By train?"

Tony looked at him as if he'd just spoken a foreign language, before turning to Trina to ask, "Does New Zealand still have passenger trains?"

"I honestly don't know," Trina replied. "Perhaps just to certain places – like big cities. All the trains I see now are freight. Passenger trains may just be a thing of the past. It's all on intercity buses now."

"Yeah," Tony said, grimacing at the memory of her last time on an intercity bus. "Some of them are double-decker monsters that sway like a Latino dancer in heat."

Ron looked quite alarmed at this, and catching his facial expression, Tony chuckled and quickly assured him that they wouldn't be taking any buses.

"We'll be walking," Trina said. "It'll be good exercise and a good opportunity to see the scenery."

The room was suddenly covered in a blanket of shocked silence except for a slight gagging sound from Ron as he was trying to speak. At least, that's what Trina presumed he was trying to do. Perhaps he was just trying to breathe. Draco looked as incredulous as they had seen him yet.

Tony laughed as she amended, "We'll be taking my car – we'll all fit if we keep our stuff in the boot." She cast a look at the highly amused Trina and said with a smile, "You great dolt."

Trina smiled back before her brow furrowed in thought. She lifted the net curtain of the long window at the end of the caravan to look out at Tony's car. It wasn't overly impressive – a second-hand Nissan Bluebird she'd bought for about 5 grand. Fitting to its name, the car was a deep dark blue, almost bordering on black.

"Tony," Trina said, voicing the thought that furrowed her brow, "what are we going to do with your car? I mean, we can't exactly take it on the plane, and it's a Kiwi car – the wheel's on the wrong side for much of Europe."

"Which is why we're not taking my car to Europe," Tony said, matter-of-factly. "I'm going to use a spot of common sense for once in my life and sell it, up in Auckland. As per the original plan."

"The original plan," Trina repeated. "So, you're selling your computer too?"

"And pretty much everything else I have," Tony affirmed. "Which is kinda bad timing, considering I only just bought a modem cable for it today."

Harry looked up from mindlessly fingering the zipper on his new camouflage jacket, and said, "It sounds like you have a lot to do in just two weeks." He again looked guilty, as if all of this was his fault. "Are you able to do all this?"

Trina looked thoughtful. "Probably," she decided. "We're just like this – impulsive. Of course, that'll probably turn around and bite us in the butt one day. Probably when we run out of money overseas and have to be deported!"

Tony grinned at the idea. "Hey, at least it's a free ride home!" She grew serious again. "I'll sell my computer on TradeMe. But because we are rather pushed for time, instead of selling off my computer gear separately, I could possibly incorporate all my accumulated software and hardware in one collective package, with the laptop bag. That would also save me the time of having to erase and format the drives. I'd take my personal stuff off first though, of course."

"How much do you think you'll get from all that?" Trina asked. "We'll need all we can get, now that we have four extra people."

Tony mused this over in her mind. "All the gear sold in one package, second hand of course, might pull in about…between three and four thousand? After all, I've collected enough periphery equipment to decorate a Christmas tree with, and all my software is either the latest, or close to it."

"And the car?"

"May pull in another three," Tony guessed. "But, we can't afford to be pedantic about it – we'll have to take what we can get. Dad will want my network cable though, I'd think. Not many other people would use it anyway."

The nonplussed Hogwarts students had been sitting quietly, watching this financial discussion going on between the two New Zealanders, still not quite believing it was all happening.

Trina spotted their lost expressions and comically said, "Just do what I do when I don't know what's going on – nod, smile, and agree."

This drew a small laugh from Harry.

Tony looked at him momentarily before asking Trina, "Do you think the Optometrists would be open still?"

Trina looked at the clock, which informed her it was nearing half past eleven.

"We have just over an hour and a half," she replied, getting up. "C'mon everyone, out to the car."

Everyone started to shift as Tony declared she was going in the house to tell Rebekah – who was hopefully now awake – that she was going out, and to expect her younger sisters home soon.

Mere minutes later, the four Hogwarts students were seated in the back seat of Tony's car – at much humiliation to Draco – with Trina in the front passenger seat as Tony sat down to drive, slamming the door with an unnecessarily hard and resounding bang.

As Tony started the engine and pulled out onto the road, the radio began to spill its sound into the car, the voices of the song smothering the ungracious hum of the engine as they sang, "…never took this road before…destination unknown…"

~ ~

Author's Notes: Thanks to those who have reviewed thus far – each review is enormously appreciated. Even flames, if constructed tactfully, are taken into account – although blatantly stupid flames will just be used to light my gas oven.