Chapter 15: The Return
Neville Longbottom had been dreading Potions class all day. He always did, really, but the prospect of being taught by someone with an unknown ability for being patronising was more than a little irksome. The fact that Brian Zambini was in Slytherin house while he had been a student of Hogwarts didn't give Neville any reassurance.
The only difference from the norm in the classroom, Neville noticed upon entering, was the lack of formidable presence of Professor Snape. That, and Blaise Zambini was slouching a little lower in his seat, as if he was under the impression this would make him unnoticeable.
Neville clutched his bag to his chest as he made his way to his seat – near a quiet corner at the back. He would have made it unperturbed if his path had not been interrupted with the sudden appearance of an oncoming student he hadn't seen soon enough to stop in time. The collision made Neville drop his bag, and several books spilled from out the top. The student with whom he'd collided – an unapologetic Slytherin, unsurprisingly – merely made his way to his desk with a smirk of amusement. Neville, embarrassed, crouched down and began to gather his books.
"Neville Longbottom, I can assume?"
The unfamiliar voice took him by surprise, and his resulting jump only served as further amusement for the Slytherins. Neville twisted around and looked up to see the unfamiliar face that undoubtedly belonged to their new Potions professor, Brian Zambini.
Neville didn't say a word – not for lack of trying, however; his mouth was doing what appeared to be an enactment of a croaking frog having an epileptic fit while under the silencio curse.
"You may take your seat now, Longbottom," Brian Zambini continued with a grim smile of sadistic amusement. "Unless, of course, you find the floor a more preferable vantage point. There is, I suppose, not so far to fall from there."
Neville scrambled to his desk, a pink tinge gracing his face. He caught sight of Seamus ahead of him, who shrugged apologetically. At least Brian Zambini was apparently not as prone to deducting Gryffindor House Points as Professor Snape was.
The class was so used to Neville's frequent blunders by now, that his moment of humiliation was short-lived – the Slytherins had turned back to face the front of the classroom, and Neville was no longer under many cruel amused eyes. Now he was able to observe quietly from his seat. That's why he liked to sit at the back – he could see all the other students and what they were doing. He liked it better that way. The Slytherins, Neville noticed, were generally quieter without the presence of Draco Malfoy among them. Blaise Zambini had his head tucked down giving great concentration to taking out his ink and parchment (although Neville suspected he'd have been like this anyway, simply because his brother was teaching the class), and Pansy Parkinson's nose seemed to have found it's place in its own business for a change. Without Draco to initiate a mockery in class, Pansy was a rather inactive boring person.
After taking out his pot of ink, a roll of parchment and his quill, Neville had the opportunity to study their new professor for the first time. Zambini didn't share the mono-coloured dress code that characterised Snape – he wasn't slathered in black from top to toe – but his attire was still dark. His outer robes were black, the back falling fluidly from his shoulders, moving like an ominous cape when he moved. A light grey jersey could be seen underneath this – its colour complimenting a shiny silver 'Z' at his left shoulder holding folds of robe fabric in an elegant twist. His hair wasn't dark enough to be termed black, Neville decided. It was closer to a dark brown, a shade or two darker than his eyes, which were now surveying the class in contemplation. From an objective viewpoint, Neville wasn't altogether surprised to see several of the girls – Slytherin, mostly – having a blatant partiality to this new professor. Blaise certainly wasn't looking appreciative of this.
"Obviously," Brian Zambini started (Professor Zambini now, Neville corrected himself), "I am your new Potions Teacher." The Slytherin girls were silent, hanging on to his every word. Professor Zambini was apparently a Slytherin-Lockhart. "Professor Snape may come in from time to time, but in practice, I will be supervising your learning in this field." His voice was a firm no-nonsense voice, despite his relative youth, Neville noticed. Unlike Snape's slow threatening tone, Professor Zambini's was rather clipped. Brian couldn't have graduated more than two or three years ago, but he knew his current position and was obviously confident in it. "We're going to make this simple potion today-" he gestured his wand toward the board and the instructions appeared "-because I don't want to run into many complications, as may arise from a difficult concoction. Today I want to see how you interact as a class; which of you have strength and knowledge in potions…" his gaze wandered toward Neville, "…and which of you I should be careful of. At the end of the class, you will all each drink your potion – assuming it was made correctly. Of course, if it isn't, I'll be very disappointed."
Neville gulped slightly under the gaze, and looked to the board's instructions to see what they were making. Professor Zambini was right – it did look ridiculously simple. Although, it used some ingredients that Neville was sure the Ministry would find suspect at best. He wondered why they were required to make this potion. Although Professor Zambini had maintained that it was so he could see class interactions, Neville was doubtful. After all, there were plenty of other easy potions that even he would have a hard time botching up. Not much of the rest of the class seemed to notice the odd potion choice – and most of the girls were too busy looking dreamily at Professor Zambini to have glanced at the board at all.
The result had pleasantly tasted rather like grape, Neville found. All considered, the day's lesson hadn't been entirely productive, aside from Neville having the pleasure of not making a terrible mistake in his concoction.
He fell in step beside Seamus after class as he was striding down the corridor, to ask him whether he'd thought it a strange class.
"Well, sure, I guess," Seamus admitted. "I mean, it was a rather silly potion that didn't seem to have a point. But hey, it's like he said, he just wanted to see what everyone was like. We'll probably get a decent potion tomorrow. I'm not really worried."
And within a new cradle of warm apathy, Neville found he wasn't worried either.
"If I have to sit here for much longer my arse is going to fall off from gangrene," Tony said, frustrated, running a hand through her wax-messed blue hair, now seeming a darker hue under the only available light of roadside streetlights on the route to Auckland.
"Now you can't patronise us for 'complaining like children'," Trina pointed out, motioning to herself and the back seat passengers. "It's you who's driving this thing."
"I know, I know. It's just that Auckland moves further and further away each time I go there. The city thinks it's funny to sidestep up the country."
"Oh, yes, of course that's the reason…" Trina said, rolling her eyes, then looking out at the other cars on the relatively relaxed motorway. "We're coming into Auckland now – what are you complaining about?"
"Apart from the gangrene arse," Tony obliged, pausing a moment to check the rear-view mirror before changing to the inside lane and putting on more speed, "there's the small fact that Auckland's the size of a small country, so we've still got ages to go before we get to the Pt Chev flat."
"Do your butt exercises," Trina laughed. "And flex…2…3…4…relax…2…3…4…and flex…2…3…4…" As she spoke she could be seen to be subtly moving up and down in her seat, bringing undisguised bouts of laughter from several of the Hogwarts students behind them.
Tony laughed too, but responded, "how about not? What are some car games we could play instead?"
"My Dad likes I-Spy a lot," said Hermione. "We could play that."
"Okay," said Trina. "I spy with my little eye-"
"You mean the big hairy googly one you use to communicate with your own people," Tony interrupted.
"-something beginning with…" Trina continued, as if she hadn't heard, but her voice had increased its volume as if to drown out a buzzing pest, "…P!"
"Paint?" guessed Hermione, looking at the markings on the road zipping beneath them.
"Nope."
"Picture?" ventured Harry.
"Nope," said Trina, looking more and more delighted.
"Porcupine!" Ron said triumphantly, and Harry looked at him, perplexed.
"There's no porcupine!" Harry exclaimed.
"Well," Ron said helplessly, with a slight shrug. "I thought maybe she'd seen one…"
"Pain in the Arse," Draco stated grumpily, looking directly at Trina, his meaning obvious.
Trina looked genuinely surprised. "I'd thought that would be a hard one…"
"You do realise he was talking about you…" Tony said through her broad amused smile.
"Oh, in that case it doesn't count," Trina said after she'd shot Draco a glare. "Because I was talking about Tony."
"You can't do that!" protested Tony. "If it was right it was right!"
"Besides," added Harry, "that's not a fair one anyway, because it's an opinion, not the name of an object."
"It's true, it starts with 'P', and it was something I saw – unlike a porcupine," Trina listed. "Seems fair to me."
"No it's not!" shot back Ron, perhaps a little sore over the continued hassles poked at his porcupine attempt.
"But technically-"
"Technically nothing!" Ron said, on a roll now. "You have to choose something else!"
"Okay, okay," Trina said. "So I have another go?"
"No!" Tony said. "You wasted yours on a cheat."
"That wasn't-!"
"Harry, you go," Tony interrupted again.
"Uh," Harry started. "I spy with my little eye…something beginning with…uh…T."
"Tony!"
"Trina!"
"Tentacle!" (That was Ron)
The answers fired at Harry from all directions, each one met with a 'no'.
Apart from his guess of 'Pain in the Arse' (which everybody knew wasn't a serious guess – he'd just been making a rude statement that happened to match what Trina was talking about), Draco had been stubbornly unwilling to participate. Not that anyone found this particularly unfortunate –they were more than happy to play a fun game without the cumbersome burden of Sour Wet Blanket.
"Tower," Hermione said, and this time was answered with a 'yes'.
"But there's heaps of towers!" Ron protested. "How was I to know you'd pick that?"
"If there's heaps," Harry said, "you should have said it first, because it would be more likely that I'd see it, wouldn't it?"
Ron sulked.
"I meant that tower," Harry said, pointing a fair distance away to what was easily the tallest structure around. It looked like a high stone cylinder, but near the top, it widened into a broader cylinder, before narrowing again, this time to a fine toothpick point. The entire structure was lit in various colours, and the lights allowed them to see to the end of the point, it's tip slicing the sky.
"That," Tony said, more for Hermione's benefit than because anyone would be interested, "is the tallest building in the Southern Hemisphere."
"Really?" said Hermione, predictably. "Can we go inside?"
"Well, not now, obviously…" Tony trailed off.
"There are viewing areas inside it," Trina said, "and a really flash restaurant – dress-up to the stars dress code – and a casino."
"With the same dress code, I think," Tony added. "I've never been in either of those – the restaurant charges a soul or two, and I think that you have to be twenty-one to get in that particular casino. Odd really, when all others in the country are 18." Trina was sitting in her seat with a rather proud and almost conniving smile, so Tony added, "and now, see, Trina's planning on going in there just because she knows I can't. Purely for spite, of course."
Trina's smile faltered, "Well, I would, but I don't have anything to wear that would let me in."
"Then all is well."
"Shut up."
"Justice has been served."
"Shut up."
"Equality in the ranks."
"Just drive!"
Tony smiled to herself, as she looked at the road ahead, determinedly not looking at Trina. Hermione resumed the game with an "I spy with my little eye…", and so it went for perhaps the next hour, Draco not participating but to throw in the odd sarcastic comment, and Tony's imagined gangrene only getting worse.
It was a welcome relief when Tony pulled out of the motorway and they all soon found themselves in the suburb of Point Chevalier. Even more was the relief when they rolled to a stop outside a block of homes in a quiet side street.
"Uh, we're here," Trina said to Tony, who was still staring blankly ahead, idly scratching her forearm.
"I know," she replied. "Just basking in the knowledge I'm free to get out of the car now."
Trina's face was incredulous. "So…get out then."
The cool night air rushed into the car when Tony opened her door and stepped out, the others following suit. After the obligatory stretching and complaining of sore muscles, bodies were laden down with luggage to take inside the flat.
"At least they left it reasonably tidy," Trina surveyed the living room as they walked in and turned on the light.
"Sure," Tony said, grumpily, as she headed towards the kitchen, "for a Tasmanian Devil."
Trina chose not to reply, but instead abruptly dumped her bags to the floor, a little louder than she needed to.
"There isn't much in the cupboards," Tony reported loudly into the living room. "We'll have to get stuff tomorrow. I'll make a list now of what we need."
"Fine, you do that," Trina said, still perhaps a little more sharply than was required. "I'll make beds up…that's a point…" She trailed off slowly.
"What's a point?" Tony stuck her head around the edge of the kitchen to see Trina looking perplexed.
"How are we all gonna sleep? I mean, we have a double bed, a single, one pull-out, and two couches – distributed among three rooms. What are the arrangements gonna be?"
Ron and Draco were looking at each other rather nervously. Despite obviously having been able to put up with sharing a room in Taupo, neither seemed keen to repeat the process.
"No boys and girls together in the same room," Tony asserted. "We've at least got to be half-way decent."
"Well who's getting the double bed?" Trina queried. Looks were swapped around the room. Trina looked slyly at Tony and said conspiratorially, "you could share it with Draco."
The blonde in question raised one elegantly-shaped brow incredulously.
"I'd rather chew my own arm off," Tony muttered, as her head again disappeared into the kitchen to continue the list. "Spread – chocolate or honey?"
"Chocolate – Milky Way. So how will the double bed be taken up? It's hardly fair that only one person gets it, when so many people have to make do with dinky couches."
"Ok, well one thing we know," Tony said as she strode into the living room to face Trina, looking as though she was about to dispense a great piece of wisdom. "Boys do not share beds. Even if they're the best of friends. It's just not in their culture. It's like friends giving each other a random kiss on the cheek in a public place – girls can do it, but not guys."
"So…"
"So presumably, it'll be two girls who get the bed. And common sense says that'll be you and me."
The same blonde eyebrow rose again at that concept, and Tony looked at him unimpressed and added to him in a monotone, "yes, our secret is out. That is why I don't want to share a bed with you. I'm hot for Trina. We get up to ruderies all night- "
She was cut short by a sharp poke from Trina's elbow. "You'd better be careful about dishing that load of codswallop out," Trina was saying. "One day someone might take you seriously. It looks like some of these people already have."
Tony looked at the four English students to see Ron looking particularly petrified, Hermione and Harry looking vaguely uneasy, and Draco looking, as always, not entirely readable – perhaps with an element of shock, with a vague amusement.
"Then they've got fifty different kinds of issues," Tony said, and clearing her throat loudly, added as if giving a public address, "I like boys."
"Ok, that's us two organised," Trina said.
"You're not putting me on a couch," came a drawling voice, and nobody needed to turn to know from whom it was coming.
"That's hardly fair," Harry spoke up. "Why should you get the other bed?"
"It's not as if you deserve it," Ron added.
"Oh, come on," Hermione interjected. "Let's be diplomatic about this- "
"Only because you think dipl- di- because you think that will get you the bed!" Ron retorted.
"That's not true, Ron-!"
"Shut up!" Tony's voice cut through the argument.
Silence.
"Whoa, listen to that beautiful sound of…nothing."
"You just ruined it," Trina pointed out.
"Look, if we can't figure this out- What?" She'd felt a vice-like grip on her arm and turned to see Trina grasping it to stop her speech.
Trina had an enlightened expression as she said slowly, "Let him have the bed."
"What?!" said Ron incredulously, and Draco was looking victorious. "But-!"
"Be the better man," Trina interrupted to Ron. "Let Malfoy have the bed."
Ron huffed off to sit on his couch, grumbling, and Trina said something about putting the Gryffindor boys in the living room and Hermione on a mattress on of the floor of the girl's room, before heading off to get bedsheets.
Tony didn't miss the gleam in her eye, but decided not to ask what it was for.
"Hermione, come help make up his bed."
Draco found this comment intensely satisfying, but Hermione only scowled at him darkly and hesitate a moment before heading off to help Trina.
"So…I'll just leave my stuff here then?" Harry's voice cut tentatively through the quietened lounge, and he looked down to his bags by one of the couches.
"Yeah, you and Ron will sleep in here," Tony affirmed. "One of you on that couch, and the other on the fold-out bed…well, that will be a fold out bed…after we, y'know, fold it out."
"Right, obviously," Harry affirmed, and he took his bag with him into the bathroom, which Trina had pointed out to him on his way down the hall. Draco followed him and fidgeted impatiently in the hall for Harry to finish using the room.
It didn't take long for the beds to be all neatly ready for their occupants, and fortunately for everyone, Ron hadn't continued to make a big deal of Draco having the other bed. Harry meandered back into the living room from the hall, now comfortably wearing his bed-wear of boxers, and a t-shirt that was clearly several sizes too big for him. Another apparent thing that was noted as he put his bag next to the pull-out bed was the new glasses framing his eyes.
"Ah, I was wondering if you wore those much," Tony said.
"Yeah, well," Harry said, absentmindedly. "I wouldn't wear the contacts to bed, obviously, but I still want to be able to see."
"Sight's over-rated," Tony mused as she spied Draco down the hall coming from the bathroom in his boxers and t-shirt, with a truly grumpy expression on his face. "It's not always an appreciated gift."
"You don't seem to mind, when Malfoy's in front of you," Ron's voice said bitterly, and to his annoyance, Tony didn't rise to the bait.
"Get over yourself," was all she said before heading down to the bathroom.
"Ok, Monsieur Mock-worthy Malfoy," Trina's voice leaked down the hall to the Gryffindor boys, and Harry could almost hear Draco's indignant brow-raise. "Your bed's finished, so get your unsociable arse into your little lair and let's all hope tomorrow's sun has the power to extract your wand that's so firmly planted…well, where the sun isn't."
Harry kept an ear out for Draco's retort, but was surprised to hear it was not forthcoming, even as Hermione and Trina were re-entering the living-room. Any notion that Draco was becoming less disagreeable was killed by the almighty bang that came from the door to Draco's room as he slammed it.
"Whoa," Tony said in awe as she emerged into the living-room in her extremely large t-shirt with a giant thumbprint on the back. Harry remembered it from the first night they'd all landed in this country. "What did the door ever do to him?"
"Probably wasn't shiny enough to show his reflection," Trina said, shrugging.
Tony rolled her eyes as she quietly swore in frustrated fascination. She initially wondered if perhaps she shouldn't have said it, but in retrospect decided it didn't matter anyway, because it couldn't have been heard over the monstrous roar that happened next and threatened to flay them all.
"WHO IN HADES-?!!"
All noise stilled in the living-room as glances were swapped, before Tony muttered to Trina, "You're in trouble…"
Sure enough, Draco Malfoy came striding into the living-room, flicking his blonde hair harshly from his face as he glared at his audience. Tony thought he looked like the most vicious homicidal Backstreet Boy she'd ever seen, and directed a questioning look at Trina.
Trina couldn't refrain from grinning broadly, and when Draco saw it mirrored in Hermione's face he just about ruptured his own in rage.
"IT WAS YOUR IDEA, WASN'T IT?!!" Draco looked like he was about to lunge for Trina's throat.
"Oh, get over it," Trina responded. "It's really not a big problem."
"What's not?" Tony asked.
"We short-sheeted his bed."
Tony laughed, and Harry and Ron looked at each other in impressed delight as they imagined how Draco must have first reacted at the discovery.
This did nothing to settle him down.
"I ought to hex you all, right here!" Draco was yelling. "You low-down, good-for-nothing pieces of hippogriff dung! I should give you all boils to last a year!"
"Except you don't have your stick," Tony managed to get out through her mirth. "Look, we can fix the bed – since it's obvious you won't. Then you can have your sadistic little dreams in comfort."
If ever Draco was mourning the loss of his wand, surely it would have been now. His eyes were blazing, and Tony was sure that the only thing keeping him flying at Trina in rage was the fact he was outnumbered. That, and a miracle. His jaw was tightly clenched, and Tony could even make out the pulse in his neck.
He stepped back and motioned down the hall in mock graciousness. "So fix it."
Trina almost cheerfully began to walk down the hall to oblige, but was soon stopped by an alarmed Draco grabbing her arm and exclaiming, "Not you!"
Tony rolled her eyes and decided against retaliating against him, as she made her way to rectify the bed. Walking a little more slowly than perhaps was necessary.
It was going to be a long night, she could see. What other dramas were going to make life worse before they finally got to England?
However bad the stresses life decided to hand out as a bitter after-dinner mint, they could be somewhat alleviated with a thick creamy flavourful coffee from the sun-kissed table of 'Dulce Vita'. Tony revelled in this knowledge as the wandless magic of the mochaccino slid down her throat, warming it. She smiled across the coffee table as she watched Trina stare quizzically down at her latte - no doubt wondering why it was served in a glass.
"Why is it just Dulce Vita that serves this in a glass?" Trina queried. "It's stupid. It's too hot for me to pick up!"
"That's the point," Tony responded. "It's for decorative purposes only."
"Oh, well that makes it all alright then."
Tony leaned back in one of the soft red lounge seats that the café had by its window. This was the sunniest spot of the place, and by far the most comfortable. A polished wooden coffee table squatted between the three seats, and had the two coffees perched on it, as well as a slice of mud cake the two girls were sharing.
"Y'know," mused Tony, absently licking the prongs of her fork clean from her last bite, "as much as I like English accents, it's nice to not have them around for a while."
"Yeah. They were starting to get rather unco-operative and making things hard."
Tony raised her eyebrows incredulously at the understatement referring to their new companions, but didn't say anything as she took another sip of coffee.
"They're not the most happy uplifting people," Trina continued.
"It does put things a bit in perspective though. I mean, we have something that millions of parents worldwide would skin their teeth for, for their kids."
Trina raised a brow. "And that would be…? Surely not having them here, because most parents aren't after that."
"We have found the cure for Potter-world Infatuations! I liked Draco, you sorta liked Bon-Bon, but now it's all I can do to not rip Draco's head off, and you don't look like you've given Ron much thought in the check-him-out way."
"Well, we have had more urgent things to worry about."
"That, and now we've been around them long enough to realise they're more than pretty faces, and we can't shut them up just by closing a book or pressing stop on the DVD remote."
"Somehow I'm not as comforted as it sounded like I should have been."
"At least we're not likely to see them again once we've dropped them off in England," Tony reassured her friend. "They're nice enough people, I'm sure, - well, with the exception of one – but when they're millions of miles from home they wouldn't be the first choice of company."
"All considered, they're coping reasonably well now, I guess. No doubt Hermione will be enjoying herself at the library," Trina said. "Now let's just hope the boys don't destroy anything in the flat, or Antonia will kill me."
"Harry should be able to set them straight about muggle stuff," Tony assured her. "Y'know, impart jewels of wisdom like 'Those sockets in the walls aren't designed to hold forks'."
"How are the sales of your car and computer going? We can get outta here when they're gone, right?"
"Yeah, just finalising stuff. Got a guy coming to see the car later, and I'd posted all the specs of my computer on Trade Me, so that doesn't get visitors – I just courier it off. I have a buyer already, so I'll post it this morning."
"So it's all coming along then. Minimal glitches."
"Yeah," Tony affirmed, and leaned back in her chair with her coffee cup in hand. Comfortable silence settled over the two girls, and Trina basked in the sunlit morning's glow.
It was with a small shriek and a burst of adrenalin that Trina started out of her reverie. Tony had suddenly tried to swallow her coffee with her nose, it seemed. Or perhaps she'd just seen a premonition of her death. Or both. Her eyes were wide, and hacking coughs of recovery followed the invading spray of coffee that had flown in Trina's direction.
"Oh, unbelievably gross, Tony!" Trina was distinctly unimpressed as she wiped the drops of caffeinated wetness from her jacket. She looked up to see Tony still looking shell-shocked, her hand over her mouth. "Oh, it's a little late for that! The coffee already left that port!" Tony still didn't move. "Ok, what?"
It was like talking to a cardboard cut-out before Tony slowly and quietly said, "We got our passports, didn't we?"
"Yes," Trina said, rolling her eyes. "We sorted that out back in Hastings!"
Tony didn't look comforted, but in fact continued, "So I have a passport. And…you have a passport."
Trina was starting to look at Tony as though there may have been something unhealthy in the coffee.
"So we have two passports," Tony continued. "But, we have six people."
Trina froze as she shared in the realisation. "What are we going to do?" she said tentatively.
"Um…I don't think we should mention it to the others. Luckily for us, it obviously hasn't occurred to Harry or Hermione that they'd all need one. Let's hope it stays like that."
"Until when?!" Trina said almost hysterically. "There's no point in applying for one for each of them! It doesn't work that easily!"
"I know, I know," Tony said hurriedly. "We'll think of something."
"Like what? We're going to swim over there?!"
"We could figure out a way to contact someone who could help, maybe. Perhaps we could start with Wiccan stores and the like. May not be the thing we're looking for, but maybe wizards would use them for fronts or something."
"Sound like you're grasping at straws."
"Better than thin air. Until we get our plan in order, pretend that nothing's wrong." Tony looked to the ceiling in frustration. "Oh, I can't believe I didn't think of that!"
"So what are we going to do here in Auckland, in the meantime?"
"We'll just keep them distracted for a bit. Take them to the Sky Tower. Take them to Rainbow's End." A smile ticked at the corner of her mouth as she added, "Take them to Fear Fall."
Trina couldn't think of anything to say. So she didn't. She just sat.
They both did.
Back at the flat, life was continuing in its sweet, vindictive, homicidal way.
"Ron's not 'dirt poor'!" Harry was yelling. "You take that back, Malfoy!"
"Don't mind if I do," Draco said nonchalantly, and snatched his t-shirt back from Ron's inquisitive fingers. "I don't care what kind of inanimate natural object he's as poor as – the fact is he'll never afford the clothes I wear."
"I liked him better drunk," Ron muttered to Harry through gritted teeth. "He didn't stick his nose in our business, with his hangover."
"Believe me when I say," Draco stated loftily, "that you weren't my first choice either, when it came to who I'd pick to be lost on the other side of the world with."
"Why did you come with us anyway?" Harry said, accusingly.
"Well, Potter," Draco sneered, "it just sounded like the sunniest spot at the time. I thought I'd take a holiday. The move was perfectly under my control, of course, just like yours."
"I mean," Harry began, his voice steady but with an underlying note of rage that was common in his dialogue with Draco Malfoy, "why did you get involved in this spell thing that brought us here? You usually have your idiot cronies Crabbe and Goyle with you. Find a better idol, did they?"
Draco frowned, but then gave a patronising smile as he responded, "They'd be hard pressed to find better than me in that excuse for a school, Potter. Especially with you in the student number. However well off those two have done with attaching themselves to me with their parasitic presence, they were in fact stuffing their faces in the Great Hall at the time of our holiday departure. I just happened to be fairly near you at the time."
"Going to hex us, probably," Ron muttered at him, darkly.
"Your gift of foresight is admirable, Weasel."
"Your attitude is really not helping, here," Harry said.
"That just made you a big hypoppotamuscrite!" Draco retorted.
Harry was so surprised at the childish word-meld, that he didn't fire a comeback. "Why do you hate us all so much, Malfoy?" Harry said. "What's your problem with me?"
Draco seemed rather taken aback at this sudden turn to seriousness; at an attempt at a decent conversation, as if they were on good terms. At first he was flustered into speechlessness, but after a moment's thought and an indignant sneer, concluded with, "You want me to be nice to you, Potter? Give me a reason."
Harry and Draco were still facing each other down in the silent wake of this poignant ultimatum when Trina and Tony walked in.
"What'd I miss?" Tony said curiously.
"Nothing," Draco said abruptly, still looking determinedly at Harry.
"Can I have a look at Harry's eyes after you, Draco?" Trina asked. "I hear from many female fans of his that they're supposed to be riveting, but I never quite took that seriously until now, when I see the infamous Draco Malfoy bewitched by their brilliance."
"Very amusing," Draco said sarcastically, not budging.
Draco was torn from his challenging gaze with Harry when a sharp rap came on the door, and he looked up startled. In realisation that'd Potter had stared him down he scowled deeply and left the room, Ron's amused taunting following him.
Harry turned to see Tony talking with the visitor, and he heard her say, "that's the car – do you want to test drive it?" It was the potential buyer, then.
As Tony left to go to the car with the buyer, Trina said, "As soon as Hermione gets back, we're going out. Just so you know."
"Where are we going?" said Harry.
"Uh…Sky Tower, then Rainbow's End."
"Why?"
"Well, uh…" Trina tried to think of something to say that the trio would receive well, and she nervously picked at her nails. "Ok, this is why: I know you're all getting really frustrated at staying here any longer than you have to, and me and Tony have been doing tourist-y things, so we're just quickly doing these two things, and getting things generally hurried up."
Trina finished her speech, and looked at her listeners with apprehension. She wasn't sure how things would be 'hurried up', but she'd been put on the spot. She'd worry about that later.
Harry and Ron looked at each other, before Harry shrugged and said, "Okay, sure. Sounds good."
An hour and an ice cream later (Tony had bought them all one each to celebrate the successful sale of her car, and computer that she'd sent off earlier) they were all adventuring in Auckland City. The Sky Tower hadn't been exactly boring, but Hermione constantly exclaiming on the educational aspects and making remarks about geographical location took the fun out of it a little, Harry thought. It had been vaguely disturbing to stand on clear flooring thousands and thousands of feet above the high city buildings below. Ron didn't want to get too near the walls, which were thick glass all around.
Rainbow's End proved to be much more interesting, and one look at Ron's ecstatic face showed the redhead thought the same. Harry had been unsure how his friend would take the roller coaster, but in retrospect, he supposed it wasn't all that different from falling down the shaft to the Chamber of Secrets. Except the Chamber hadn't gone in sharp circles or upside down. The roller coaster crawled to a stop and Tony and the two boys walked past various sideshows to meet up with their friends just emerging from the Simulator.
"Hey," Tony called to Trina as they drew nearer, "what was showing today?"
Trina looked in surprise at a bird that had glided alarmingly close to her, before replying, "We were inside a volcano and had to drive this thing around and avoid all the spitting magma."
Tony smiled at Trina's shock over the diving bird. "I like driving the hovercraft around all the futuristic-city wreckage better."
Draco was trying to look cool and aloof, but he'd obviously enjoyed it, since his cheeks had a faint flush of pink and his eyes barely concealed a sparkle.
"The roller coaster was great," Harry said, "what's next?"
"Gold Rush!" Tony exclaimed, and took of at a run to another corner of the amusement park, the other five in hot pursuit. Soon they were all bundled into a large cart, rolling toward the yawning mouth of what appeared to be a dark mine.
"Ok," said Trina, turning around to face the four English youths as if she were imparting a pep talk, "this ride isn't scary at all. But to make it extremely fun, scream as if you're facing your doom, and when you get to the dip in the track at the end, throw your hands up in the air as if you're going down a cliff."
"It works!" Tony excitedly threw over her shoulder, and they were off. The cart built up quite a speed, and at one point looked like it was going to collide with a cart full of coals at the end of the track, but they swerved at the last second to avoid it. They zoomed past a clearly fake man mounted on a pole holding a lantern and gliding along a track, his boneless legs hanging idly.
"AUGH! DEAD MAN WALKING!" Trina screamed, and grasped at Tony's arm. Harry was amused to see Tony screaming right back, and their exhilaration added extra spark to the ride. Of course, Draco had sat at the back, determined not to show any enjoyment, but by the end of the ride the Gryffindor three were more inclined to join in the spirit of things by throwing their hands in the air and calling out a little as the cart when down the oh-so-frightening incline of a slope going down a couple of feet.
"Again! Again!" Tony excitedly called, bouncing up and down in the cart like a small child, as it slowed back to it's starting position. The Rainbow's End staff member controlling the ride laughed at them all, before setting the cart in motion again.
This time, the experience was more animated with added terror of three more people.
"IT'S THE DEAD MAN!" Tony shrieked, pointing to the floppy-legged miner gliding along his track again, and her friends screamed in response.
Harry knew it was just his imagination, but the small dip in the track at the end of the ride seemed so much steeper and so much scarier with all of them screaming as though they were plummeting to their deaths. Well, all sans Draco, that is.
"That was great," Hermione said breathlessly as they all scrambled out of the cart and began to walk to the centre of the park. "Where are we going now?"
"Hopefully something that would provoke a little more genuine interest," Draco drawled bitterly.
"I can think of one," Tony said conspiratorially, and Trina's eyes widened in trauma of the memory.
"I'm not going on that," she said firmly. "No, not ever again. I don't care what you'd pay me."
Now Draco looked more interested.
"What's that?" Ron asked, a little apprehensive.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Tony narrated in a ringmaster manner, "I give you…"
They turned the corner of a building to stand in front of a hugely high structure, and Trina finished, "…Fear Fall."
"Fear Fall?" Hermione asked.
"You go up the side of that column," exclaimed Tony, "belted into a seat. See? There go some people now. Then you're held at the top for a few seconds, before you shoot down at the speed of gravity. People with heart problems etc aren't allowed to go on it."
Ron gulped audibly, and they all turned to watch the group of people who had gone up in the seats and now looked the size of small paper clips.
"They're just staying up there," Ron started. "It's not-"
"Just wait," prompted Tony.
Then with a click, whatever was holding the seats at the top let go, and the people came plummeting down to earth, their screams barely able to keep up with them.
"What family-friendly entertainment," Tony said with a sarcastic smile. "Of course, I'd only go near it if someone made it worth my while. Been down once – never again. 'Never' being a conditional state of mind, naturally."
"Me neither," Trina said, looking slightly sick.
"It's probably not that bad," Draco said, but he looked a little put off by what he'd just seen. "You're just dramatising it."
"Am not!"
"I might go on it," said Harry looking up to the top of the massive column. "It looks fun. And at least it's something I've never tried before, so it'll be an interesting experience."
"You'd go on that, Harry?" Ron asked incredulously. "It'll probably kill you when it hits the bottom!"
"Oh, it slows down before the bottom of course," Tony interjected, "otherwise your brain would shoot out the top of your head. I don't know exactly how high that monster is, but it probably takes less than 5 seconds to get down. Ever wondered what it felt like to fall from a 18-storey building?"
"Come with me, Ron?" Harry asked. "Hermione?"
"No way, Harry," Ron said, and Hermione didn't look overly keen either.
"We'll watch you from down here," she said.
Harry looked levelly at Draco. "You go on it," he challenged. "See if they're over-dramatising it."
Draco looked vaguely as if he'd wished he hadn't said anything.
"You going on it, Potter?"
"Why? You scared?"
"You wish."
The two boys once again stood in a face-off, and the others looked between them as if watching an exciting tennis match.
"Go," Harry once again challenged him.
After a moment's thought Draco allowed a small smile of anticipation at the corner of his mouth to escape and he stuck out his hand as he said in a challenge, "I'll go if you go."
Harry looked down at the offered hand – a moment recreating one that happened five years earlier. With a glint in his eye, Harry looked determinedly at Draco…and took the offered hand, giving it one brisk shake before they both headed over to the bottom of Fear Fall.
Harry had noticed Ron's face of incredulous surprise before he'd approached the giant column at a run, Draco jogging behind him. He knew something formative had just happened, but he wasn't sure what.
He knew they were not friends. It wouldn't happen that easily. And there were too many things standing in the way of that anyway. For a start, no one had established where exactly Draco Malfoy's loyalties lay. Harry turned his head in mid-run to see Malfoy behind him, his pale hair being blown back by the forged breeze. His grey eyes were excited, with a glint at the challenge before him.
No, they were certainly not friends. But as the two boys were strapped into seats, Harry knew that despite the absence of friendship, they had reached an…understanding. There was no other word Harry could think of to describe it. He still didn't like the blonde on the other end of the row of seats, of course, but it seemed that since the handshake, their avid dislike for one another had reached a more neutral plane.
That in itself was more than Harry would ever have thought possible, and in the shock of the realisation he hadn't realised that the seats had begun their slow ascent up the column, until he saw broken and dismembered limbs on the roof of the building just below. Initial shock set in before he realised they were a deliberate novelty addition of the ride. He looked over to see if Draco had noticed them. He obviously had, but his nervous excitement still outweighed his apprehension.
It was like riding in a lift – except on the outside of a building, and his legs dangled freely from his chair, his feet idly kicking at nothing, many feet from the ground. There was a click as they reached the top, and the cap on the structure held onto them. He could no longer see the expressions of his friends on the ground, but imagined Ron's nervousness and smiled.
He waited for the descent, but it didn't happen. What if they were stuck up here? What if-
Then it happened.
Harry's stomach felt like it flew out of his mouth. He was falling… so fast… The force of the air on his face as he fell was so harsh he found he couldn't keep his eyes open, so he clamped them shut… there was nothing to focus on anyway…it was moving so fast… so fast…any minute, any minute now, he pleaded. Slow down…
After what seemed like forever, but was probably only a few seconds, Harry felt the presence of a new feeling, but it hadn't been what he'd imagined a slowing ride would feel like. Instead of feeling the air rushing upwards past him, it seemed to envelop him entirely, and snatch him from his very seat.
And then he hit the ground, falling forwards onto his hands and knees.
Something's wrong, he thought. The ground beneath him was gritty stone floor, not the grass of Rainbow's End. And it was night.
With a start, Harry knew he was home.
But it wasn't a good thing.
A/N: I know this chapter took ages to come along, and my apologies. A nasty bout of Writer's Block last lasting almost-forever had ground this thing to a halt for a while. I have to say, the only thing that got me to shift my A into G was a hurry-up review (thanks, Chateaupierre), although I'm sure I've probably lost several readers by now. Thanks to the readers who have contacted me to let me know how much they enjoy the story, or even just to say hi.
I don't know when the next chapter will be out (I think there's only 1 or 2 to go). The upside is that I've planned until the end of the story, so I won't get such a horrid case of Writer's Block again. The downside (well, not really for me) is that I'm busy with organising our church's Youth Mission Team's trip to the Philippines – which Trina and I are both on, incidentally, so I don't know how much time I'll have available to story-writing. We leave early July to work with missionaries over in Manilla, and we'll be there for 3 weeks, visiting different classes of people – right down to those living in boxes at the rubbish dump. So obviously I won't be writing any more of WWC during that time.
Oh, and I've hacked all my waxed blue hair off! I miss it terribly. But I'll keep it in the story for the sake of continuity.