Disclaimer: None of this is mine, except for the rather strange idea I had to combine 2 of my favorite fictions. Harry and friends all belong to the talented and lovely JK Rowling, and the denizens of Callahan's Saloon and Lady Sally's are creations of the equally talented, yet not quite as lovely Spider Robinson.

A/N: I meant to add a note onto the previous chapter, but once I had finished writing it, I was so relieved that the plot ferrets had finally let go that I forgot all about it. Just a couple of things I wanted to mention, before I get on to actually writing more.

As I read back through this, I realize that a few things weren't made as clear as they should have been. The main issue is the time frame. Harry started his trip about a week after the initial scene in chapter 1. He had things that needed to be arranged, before he could take off on the trip, but I was pretty sure you wouldn't want to wade through all that boring stuff (ie, packing, paperwork, travel agents, prepping the bike to be ridden again).

Also, as I have never visited the part of the East coast that provides the locations for this story, I've left travel times fairly vague. I simply don't know how long it would take to drive from Boston to New York city, not to mention some of the other locales that will be described here.

GiGiFanFic, Xayne, and Rachel132: Thank you so much for the multiple reviews! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far. I've tried to make it as interesting and enjoyable as possible. It's good to know I've achieved some small measure of success in this. By the way, Jeanne, there will be a few more chapters, to say the least, so that wish is granted, as well as one other, I think. Also, I'm glad you like the way I've written Harry. I'd like to think that, by the time the war comes to it's ultimate conclusion, he would have developed a degree of emotional maturity on a par with his powers and abilities. Otherwise, in my opinion, he wouldn't be capable of doing what he needs to do.

To the others who have reviewed, thank you, again. I really appreciate the feedback, as well as the nice comments.

Now, on with the story.

Last day on The Street:

Harry climbed out of bed the next morning around seven AM, amazed at the fact that the nightmares that had plagued him since he could remember seemed to be steadily decreasing in number, strength, and vividness. Simply put, ever since he had defeated Voldemort in the final battle, he had many more good dreams than bad, and the bad ones weren't the kind that would jolt him from slumber with a scream. He knew that he would always remember those who had fallen, as he hoped the rest of the wizarding world would. It was when the dark days of tyrants like Voldemort, Grindelwald, and others were forgotten that the way seemed to open for another of their ilk. Harry was reminded of a quote from a prominent muggle; "Those who would forget the lessons of the past are doomed to repeat it." It was in this contemplative mood that Harry made his way to the shower, to wake up and get ready for the day.

After his shower, he stood in front of the mirror, trying to get his jet black hair to behave. It was then that he noticed something he hadn't until now. His lightning bolt shaped scar, long his most indentifying feature, had actually started to fade. He had no doubt that some remnent of it would always remain, but, with luck, maybe he wouldn't have to worry as much in the future about it being the only thing people saw as they looked at him. He realized that this may sound a silly concern compared to some, but it had been such a huge part of the legend of The Boy Who Lived, and he was glad that he might have some chance of leaving that behind. He just dreaded seeing what new legends would be born out of his defeat of Voldemort. Merlin only knew what new nickname the Daily Prophet or Witch Weekly would hang on him now. He shuddered to think of it.

Once he was dressed, Harry repacked everything in his trunk and headed out to the kitchen, to make a quick breakfast. After eating, he went back out to the living room, to contact the Twins, and let them know that he was heading back out on the road. He walked up to the mirror, and said, "Gred and Forge." As the mists in the mirror cleared, he heard a voice call out, "Oi! Fred! Harry's calling! Let Angie handle the counter for a bit!" A moment later, both brothers were visible.

"Harry! How's it going, mate? Just can't get enough of us, eh? The curse of being irresistable, I guess."

Harry shook his head with a grin for these two. They had almost never failed to get a smile out of him. "Actually, I just wanted to let you know that I'm leaving the city, today. It's time for me to hit the road again. Also, I wanted to let you know that you're off the hook for the disguise kits. I had a long talk with Reggie yesterday. A thousand Galleons, eh? Hell of a price."

"How could you ever doubt us? Wait. Scratch that." A sudden grin appeared. "We know how you could. We would doubt us, if we were you. We thought the price sounded fairly appropriate, partner. So where are you headed from there?"

"Well, I've heard about a place that's apparently not far from here that sounds very interesting. A place called Callahan's Bar. It sounds intriguing. So far, I've had it recommended to me by two people, who say that it sounds just the place for me."

The Twins shared a look that almost apeared to be one of relief. Curious, that. George spoke in earnest, "Harry, believe us when we say that we wholeheartedly recommend Callahan's. Mike Callahan is an old friend of Dad's, and his wife, Sally, is somehow, don't ask us how, related to us. Of course, to listen to Mum when she gets the Family Book out, so is every redhead in the UK and the colonies, past and present. It really does get a bit confusing, at times, keeping track of our family."

Fred said, "Yeah, mate. It's gotten to the point now where we're almost afraid to date other redheads. Might turn out to be related, and that would be bloody sick."

Harry nodded at this, "I can see how that could be a problem. I know what kind of genetic problems can occur in muggle families with marrying too close to kin. I don't even want to imagine what would happen with magic mixed in there."

George gave a speculative look, "You know, that would go a long way to explaining the Malfoys and Blacks."

"You might have a point there, George. There's got to be a reason why they were such total idiots when it came to the Dark Arts."

Harry heard a voice in the background. "Fred! George! Where are you, you prats?" He laughed, recognizing Ginny's voice at once. George called out, " Ginny! back here in the office!" Harry could heard her approaching the office. He saw her face in the mirror and said. "Hi Gin! How are you?"

Ginny started, not expecting to hear his voice, knowing that he was nowhere near Diagon Alley. Whirling toward the mirror, she asked, "Harry? Where are you?"

Harry's spirits soared at the tone of her voice. She sounded like she wished he was close. At that moment, so did he. It was just so good to see her face. "Right now, I'm still in New York, in the apartment in the store. You should see this apartment. It's great! I'm leaving the city today and getting back on the road." At this, he broke off for a moment and asked the Twins if he and Ginny could talk in private. Fred and George traded a knowing look, and with a minimum of teasing, left the room. He watched Ginny usher them out, and place a silencing charm on the door.

"Is something wrong, Harry?", Ginny asked, with a look of concern on her face.

"No, nothing's wrong, Gin. I just didn't want them listening in, and teasing you later on. I know how they get."

Ginny grinned, and Harry felt his heart stop, just for a moment. He would do anything, even go up against another Dark Lord, just to see that smile. He hadn't realized until just now, how hard he was falling for her. "Ummm...Did you get my letter?" he asked hesitantly.

"Yes, I did. You said some of the nicest things in there, Harry. You mean a lot to me, too. You always have. You're the best friend I've ever had. I have to tell you, though, I almost wish I hadn't read it at the table, in front of Ron and Hermione. They were giving me some awful strange looks, by the time I'd finished. I just couldn't believe you wrote some of that. It was so unlike anything you'd ever written before. It was nice." Ginny mentally kicked herself, hard. She thought to herself, 'Nice? Ginevra Weasley, you idiot! He expresses more in a letter to you than he ever has, and you say it's 'Nice?' Argh! You twit!' Changing the subject slightly, she asked "By the way, what did you say in your letter to mum? By the time she finished it, she was sniffling and tearing up. She looked like she'd won the National Lottery or something."

Harry gave a small laugh, and said, "I just wanted to clear up a thing or two, and make sure she knew just how much I appreciated everything your family, and she, have done for me over the years. I just told her I consider her to be as much my mum as Lily Potter. She, along with the rest of you, took me in and took care of me. She's said things over the past couple of years, indicating that she thinks she failed me in some way, by not seeing how truly bad my life with the Dursleys really was. I just wanted her to know that she hadn't. Being a part of your family, I believe, was the only thing that helped me get through a big part of the past few years. If I hadn't had the support of you and your family, I would have just given up, so many times." He shuddered. "I just don't think I would have gotten through everything, otherwise."

Ginny was stunned. Even with all of the confidences they had shared since they had known each other, this was the most that he had ever opened up to her, or anyone else, for all she knew. "You said you thought of her as 'mum'? No wonder she looked the way she did. Harry, she's always said she couldn't more proud of you than if you'd been her own. You should have seen her after reading that letter. She looked like she could've flown to Diagon Alley without a broom. I think she was actually happier than the day the Twins moved into their own place. You remember how happy she was that day." Ginny laughed at the memory.

The young wizard smiled and said, "Yeah I do. That was a prety good party she threw that day. The only thing I regret is that I didn't tell her any of that earlier. I've realized lately that I can't keep holding in my feelings about the people I care for. I need to let them know how I feel. Speaking of that, like I mentioned in my letter to you, I think we need to have a talk when I get home. Would you like to go out for dinner some night after I get back? You can make reservations anywhere you want..." His voice trailed off, not sure how this would be recieved.

Ginny's face lit up at his question. "That sounds great! There's a new place that just opened in Diagon Alley, that I've been really wanting to try." Her grin turned a bit mischievous at this. "The waiting list has already got up over a month, to get a table there. I think I'll just tell them it's for Harry Potter, and see what happens to that list."

Harry laughed at the look on her face as she said this. "You do that, Gin. If I have to deal with all the fame and all the stuff that goes with it, I might as well use it to my advantage once in a while."

"Too right, Harry. Oh, speaking of fame, have you heard the latest?" This last was asked with an ironic lift of an eyebrow.

Harry groaned. "Oh no...what now?"

Ginny turned and picked up a magazine from the desk. "Just this.", she said with a laugh. On the cover of the magazine was a picture of Harry, taken on the day of the Leaving Feast after his seventh year at Hogwarts. Below the picture, in lurid red script was the headline, "Witch Weekley's Most Eligible Bachelor of the Century!" Underneath this was a promise of a sixteen page color photo spread, with pictures of him, and nobody else. Ginny smiked and started paging through the magazine, saying, "Some of these pictures are actually quite good.' Her cheeks gained a pink tinge as she leafed through. "Though I really have to wonder how they got these six of you from the locker room." She laughed to see the flaming blush that was raging on his face at this point. "Don't worry, Harry. None of the important bits are showing.", she teased, with a giggle. "Pity, that." That was said in an offhand way, and her cheeks turned almost as red as her hair, as she realized the last was said out loud.

The two of them talked for a while longer, about Ron getting accepted as Keeper for the Cannons, the upcoming wedding (Ginny had accepted as Maid of Honor), her plans for school, and other, less important things. A while later, the young witch glanced at the clock, and said, "Harry, it's been wonderful talking like this, but I'd better get going. Mum's just going to have kittens if I don't finish my errands and get back home, soon. You know how she is."

"Yes I do. Give her and Hermione my love, please, and tell everyone else I said hi."

"Ok, Harry. You take care of yourself, and keep in touch, okay?"

"I will, and you do the same. Talk to you soon."

With that, Harry touched the mirror with his wand, and said quietly, "Mischief Managed.", and watched the mirror change again. He went into the bedroom to make sure there was nothing he'd left behind. He reduced his trunk to pocket size and put it away. He took a quick look through the apartment to make sure everything was in order, and stepped to the door. As he stepped through into the store, he sealed the door and turned to leave. Upon reaching the front door, Reggie was coming in to open up for the day. Reggie shook his hand, and asked "Off then?"

Harry replied, "Yes, I think I'd better get going. What's the easiest way to drive out of here?" As he asked this, he took the old Triumph motorbike out of his pocket, and set it on the ground. He restored it to full size.

Reggie gave the bike an appreciative look, and said, "Well, your best bet would be Apothecary Row, just a couple of streets down on the right. You only need to go a couple blocks down that one, and you'll be back in muggle New York. Just watch out for the traffic out there. It's rotten at this time of day."

Harry thanked him for the advice, put his helmet on, started the bike, and pulled out onto The Street, to begin the next part of his journey.