Chapter Thirteen

"Welcome to Oz"

Countless hours lost in time zones, datelines, and Kneazle customs inspections later, Harry and Ginny emerged into a narrow alley behind Kings Cross Station in Sydney, Australia, feeling ragged and exhausted.

Although Harry knew what to expect, he still balked a bit at the difference in climate as, wand still well in hand, he peered through the shadowy alley. Behind him in the station the monorail hissed to a stop. He squinted upward at the bit of sky available to him between the buildings. Judging by the light, it was half-past six in the morning.

"C'mon," he said to a yawning, bleary-eyed Ginny. She looked ready to drop on her feet, and he imagined he looked about the same. A Portkey across the Pacific Ocean was nothing to sneeze at, nor the relentless inspection of custom officers and their special kneazles that could spot unsavory, suspicious characters and contents faster than Mad-Eye Moody. The strange-looking, catlike creatures had not appreciated Ginny's CD player, but after an hour, the officers had released it to her.

However, as Harry led Ginny down the narrow alley and onto the sidewalk of Victoria Street, he couldn't help but feel some of his weariness disappear as the summer morning warmed his bare arms.

Sydneysiders were hurrying down the station steps to catch the next train to City Centre, but others were choosing to walk the distance and stroll through Hyde Park for some morning air, cell phones pressed to their ears and large styrofoam cups of coffee in their hands. Groggy-eyed, haggard nightlifes were also nursing caffeine as they dragged themselves into apartments and cafes. However hurried or disgruntled these Muggles looked, Harry knew that just east, behind him, several others were sinking their toes into the sands of Bondi Beach and chatting as they waxed their surfboards.

Suddenly feeling eager for the salty air before the sun rose to a scorching height, Harry turned to Ginny and was pleased to see that her eyes were slightly more open as she took in her surroundings.

"Ginny?"

She blinked and looked at him; she seemed slightly surprised to see him. "Hmm?"

"Er—how tired are you?"

Ginny raised her eyebrows slightly, but then yawned in answer. When she'd finished, she blinked again and adjusted her travel bag. "Quite a bit. Why?" She tilted her head slightly and peered closely at him, tangled hair falling across her face from the messy, sloppy knot she'd tried to put it in earlier. "Did you need to stop somewhere before we go to your flat?"

Her cheeks colored a bit as her eyes trailed away at the word "flat."

Harry looked up at the sky again, wishing he didn't feel so awkward or that she didn't look so, either. He really needed the ocean air to clear his mind before whatever this new episode in his life officially started.

"Yeah," he said, hoping that he didn't sound too eager or whiney. "I kind of wanted to stop at the beach real quick. Just for a few minutes," he added quickly. "It's not too hot or crowded right now."

"Sure. Why not," Ginny shrugged. She covered her mouth as she yawned again.

"We can stop for some tea or coffee, if you want," Harry said eagerly.

She merely shrugged again, her eyes scanning the street. A bus and taxi met at the corner between Kings Cross Road and Craigend Street and waited as several Muggles crossed the intersection.

"Do you think you can Apparate?" Harry asked, unfolding the map they'd been given at Customs. "It's short, maybe a kilometer."

Ginny straightened from her ragged slouch and nodded grimly. "Yeah, I can handle that." She withdrew her wand but did not look happy as Harry held the map out for both of them.

"We can walk, if you want," said Harry reluctantly. It took much longer to walk than Apparate. Soon the sun would be burning everything it touched and people would be flocking to the beach to cool off.

"No," said Ginny, biting her lip. "It's not that . . . never mind. Where're we going?"

Harry frowned and peered at her face. Perhaps it hadn't been his imagination earlier; maybe Ginny really didn't like maps.

He pointed the tip of his wand at the eastern shore of Sydney where bold letters read Bronte Beach. "Record," he said firmly. A small, orange glow appeared at the business end. "Now you," he said to Ginny.

As Ginny followed his lead, Harry thought about how much more convenient and safer this form of Apparating was than merely memorizing coordinates across America. He also had no need to use this little charm to get to Bronte Beach, but for Ginny's benefit, he did it this morning.

"Ready?" he said, folding the map up and shoving it in his jeans' pocket.

Ginny nodded, and a second later, they both Disapparated and reappeared on the north side of Bronte Beach behind a large, craggy rock.

Harry smiled and inhaled deeply, tasting the salty air. Instead of stepping out from behind the rock and heading down to the white sand beach, he turned and started up the grassy, rock-spotted slope up the north cliff jutting out into the ocean. He heard Ginny scuffling behind him.

"It'll be worth it, come on," he said, looking over his shoulder. Although she seemed a little sluggish, she wasn't struggling on the hill.

Although Bondi Beach was Australia's most famous beach, Harry preferred its neighbor, Bronte. Smaller and less known to tourists, it was much less crowded with a cozier atmosphere.

As they neared the top and end of the cliff, Harry grinned as he felt the breeze pick up. He stopped when he reached his favorite spot between two leaning trees and parting shrubs that lent him a view of both the ocean and beach. Directly in front of him expanded the world of deep blue water and sky meeting where the sun shot silver across the edge. To his right, down below, and behind him rested Bronte—a world of scattered, early morning surfers and swimmers, backpacking travelers, and the awakening eastern suburb. Out of the deep green of the cliff's foliage rose an eclectic array of modern and Victorian architecture in which balconies were the only common feature.

It's truly like being on the edge of the world, Harry thought as his eyes soaked in the deep, sparkling blue. Already he could taste the salt on his lips. Or . . . the beginning of it.

"Wow," Ginny breathed behind him. She'd stepped up alongside and the ocean wind seemed to brush away some of her exhaustion. "This is beautiful!"

Harry grinned at her. "Welcome to Oz, Gin."

Glancing at him, she smiled faintly; then she closed her eyes and pressed her face into the wind. It rendered her loose hair knot undone and whipped her skirt around her legs, but she didn't seem to mind, and Harry couldn't bring himself to look away.

When she opened her eyes a moment later, he quickly faced the ocean again, hoping she hadn't noticed.

"C'mon, we better go. The flat's a few blocks from here," said Harry.

Ginny nodded and reluctantly turned to go back down the slope. Harry made a note to bring her back as soon as possible.

Walking west from the beach, Ginny and Harry passed an array of shops for Muggles and wizards alike (she was sure that only she and Harry could see the magical merchandise), as well as several pubs and cafes. Dead tired from traveling, she could barely register her new surroundings but noted that several surfboards were making their way down the boardwalks and streets toward the beach, and she couldn't help but notice that a fair few of the early-risers traversing the shops were Irish.

They passed a park. Ginny tried to memorize the street names (Bronte, Bondi, Oxford, Carrington, York . . .), but she finally gave up. She'd have time later. Instead she vaguely admired the assortment of housing from Romanesque to Victorian to "International" (as Harry referred to it). Beds and cots occupied balconies, and Ginny even saw one young man still sleeping, completely oblivious to the world starting around him.

"Here we are," Harry said finally, stopping at a wrought iron fence with a small gate.

Ginny gazed up at the gray stone, three-story structure that looked vaguely Roman. Pillars framed the front entrance, balconies opened every story, and vines were touching even the tiled roof. No set of fluttering curtains matched another set. Although trees blocked much of the north side of the large house, Ginny had a feeling that more stone turned west to create a wing.

"This is your house?" she said to Harry incredulously.

Harry looked slightly confused, but then his face cleared in understanding and he chuckled. "No. It's been converted into an apartment. We're right up there," he said, pointing to the corner facing toward Bronte Beach.

Ginny squinted at the oddly patterned curtains. Wasn't that style called to-die or something? She remembered something about Muggle hippies and then the 1980s . . . It was really too early to be thinking about Muggle Studies right now.

"Come on," said Harry, opening the gate. "Renee should be up by now. I hope."

As she stepped through the gate, something started to sink in. Too much bustling had gone on the past few hours to let her absorb anything, but now it started to hit her. She'd felt it standing on the cliff, feeling the salty promise of the ocean breeze, but could not concentrate on it.

She was in Australia. England was far behind her. No one knew she was here and no one knew who she was.

"Muggles live here too," said Harry, breaking into her thoughts, "so you have to be a bit careful. Sometimes it's best not to Apparate everywhere."

Then Harry took out a set of keys and used one on the front door. Ginny followed him inside and noted the considerably cooler air and slight hum of Muggle air conditioners. She looked around to find white walls, a faux hardwood floor, stairs with a polished banister leading up to the other floors, and a desk and couch in the small corridor leading to the back garden. Tilting her head up, she saw that the ceiling rose all the way to the top floor, and she could see numbered doors on the second floor through the open balcony.

Someone came out of number three, shaking his chin-length, sun-kissed hair out of his face and shoving his keys in his pockets. He glanced down and raised his eyebrows at her.

Ginny quickly looked down and then at Harry.

Harry had started up the steps, but paused when he noticed she wasn't right behind him. Feeling foolish for gawking, Ginny followed him.

The guy from number three came down the steps and greeted Harry. "Back from Pommy, then?"

"Yeah, just now," said Harry.

"You missed a bonzer rage the other night, mate," number three grinned, giving his keys a rattle. "Ask Nay about it. 'Course she was flat out like a lizard, so she might not remember." He laughed and turned his eyes on Ginny with what she considered a rather predatory smile. "Who's the Sheila?"

Before she had time to react, Harry grabbed her hand. "A mate from school. 'Later, Tommy." He started up the steps again.

"I'll lob in later, Potter!" Tommy called after them. Ginny heard him laugh again as he went out the door.

Despite being confused by the odd exchange, Ginny couldn't suppresse the thrill at Harry holding her hand. Then she quickly remembered that he shouldn't be holding her hand. When they reached the top of the first flight, however, Harry let go.

"Sorry," he said quietly, not quite looking at her. "Tommy's a little . . . er, randy." His cheeks colored a bit but he sounded very serious. "Just don't get totally pissed around him, or accept drinks for that matter."

"I'll try to remember that," said Ginny, feeling a bit fuzzy. No matter how estranged she'd made herself from Harry, she could never squelch the warmth and annoyance that came from him being protective.

Feeling a bit impish, she tilted her head to the side. "He's kind of cute, though," she said thoughtfully.

"Ginny . . ." Harry gave her a painful look. "Please . . . just not Tommy. All right?"

The little mischief inside her puttered out. "Harry," she said quietly, "do you honestly think I could be with anyone bearing that name?"

Under his fringe, she could almost see his brow furrow, and his frown deepened. "Well, come on then," he sighed.

Silently she followed him up the next flight of stairs to the next floor. Harry stopped in front of number six. A sticker had been slapped haphazardly under it reading Welcome to Nay's and Hay's in blue marker.

Harry turned the key and entered, calling, "Renee! I'm back!"

Again, Ginny slowly walked into new territory, her eyes roaming the apartment that had become Harry's home for the past two months. An open, somewhat cluttered kitchen rested to her right. The counters were topped with blue ceramic and had white sides; a plate of half-finished eggs and fruit sat atop the island surrounded by barstools. Arthur Weasley would have delighted at the Muggle fridge, toaster, microwave, and dishwasher.

Harry tossed his keys onto the counter and glanced at the scattered remains of a newspaper. He picked up the half-eaten, buttered toast and took a bite as he set his travel bag on the newspaper.

"Renee!" he called again. "Your breakfast is disappearing!"

Ginny snorted, shook her head, and looked to her right. Shoes, belts, and a cricket ball were scattered along the wall of sliding doors to what she assumed was a cupboard for such things.

"Here, give me your cloak," Harry said, kicking at the cricket ball and reaching for the cloak draped over Ginny's arm. He slid open the doors to reveal loose hangers, cloaks, a beaten surfboard, and two broomsticks, one of which was Harry's beloved Firebolt. He hung up her cloak, kicked in a couple shoes, and slid the doors shut again.

"We need to clean that out," he said sheepishly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "Don't want the Muggles asking about the brooms."

She merely raised her eyebrows, again feeling awkward and unsure of herself. She was no longer a traveler on her way somewhere afar but a guest and intruder on this new life Harry had made for himself.

"Well," said Harry, gesturing aimlessly, "I guess you can just set your bag on the counter. Renee's probably in the bathroom or something. I can show you the rest of the place, I guess."

Most of the flat Ginny could see from the open kitchen. It opened into a higher ceiling area with tall windows, sleek hardwood flooring, and the balcony that faced down the street toward the beach. The white walls of the kitchen became blue, but it did not darken the room as splash-paintings and posters covered much of the painted wall. At the center of the room, a lumpy, winged couch faced the corner with a large TV and stereo system. To Ginny's slight embarrassment, a lime green bra was draped over the back corner of the couch where the two wings met.

A small bed sat against the right wall, but it was so piled with pillows, shoes, blankets, and an Australian Quidditch League cloak that Ginny could barely discern that is was, in fact, a bed and not a shelf. Beside it was a small chest of drawers; leaning against the chest rested an electric blue guitar.

Ginny barely had time to register this before a loud, jubilant female voice broke through the quiet.

"Strewth! Harry! I thought I'd heard you come in!"

She turned to see a mass of dark, wavy hair and long, tanned arms ensnaring Harry in an enthusiastic hug. He laughed and hugged her back before pushing the young woman off. The woman giggled and kissed him on the cheek before giving his shoulder a push.

"Aren't you going to introduce me, you dag?"

Then she turned and Ginny got her first good look of Renee Blackstone.

Standing a few inches taller than Ginny, the Australian witch wore a black spaghetti top with red straps going around her neck from what she assumed was a bathing suit. Dark, wavy hair streaked from the sun fell loosely around slender shoulders and framed a wide smile and sparkling dark eyes. Although there was something gangly about Renee's long arms and legs, her flat torso, small waist, and curvy hips seemed to compensate for this. Her exposed navel was pierced and she wore faded cut-offs. Buoyant energy radiated off her, making her even more attractive than in the photograph Ron and George ogled.

This didn't exactly please Ginny.

"Sorry," Harry said, slightly pink in the cheeks. But he was smiling at bit at Renee, obviously glad to see her again. "Ginny, this is Renee, one of my first friends here."

"So you're Ginny!" Renee exclaimed, her eyebrows up and her eyes shooting a sidelong look at Harry. Before Ginny could ask what exactly she meant by that, Renee seized her into a quick, friendly hug. "Most people call me Nay, by the way. We Aussies like to have as few syllables as possible."

Then she stood at arms length from Ginny and put her hands on her hips. "Aren't you hot in those clothes? Didn't Harry tell you that it's summer here?"

"I really don't have much for summer clothes," Ginny shrugged, pushing up again on her rolled sleeves. During her ordeal at the Portkey station, she'd changed into a button down blue shirt that Alyson had loaned her and rolled the sleeves up.

"Well, I can fix that," Renee said brightly. "You can borrow some of my clothes. Tiny little thing, aren't you? Don't worry, the only things that won't fit you, you don't need in the summer, anyway."

"Oh, you don't have to—"

Renee waved her hand dismissively and turned to Harry, holding up a hand, her index finger out. "Have you seen my limey cozzies? I can't find the bottoms."

Harry gave his eyes a roll. "Well, I did take them with me to England, and bugger it all, I left'em there."

"You snarky mug." Renee snatched up the lime green bra (Ginny now realized it was a swimsuit piece) from the couch and whacked Harry again with it. "Now I've got to make sure not to leave any grundies around for you to be embarrassed about, eh?"

She sighed dramatically, flipped the bikini top over her shoulder, and put her hands on her hips and smiled at Ginny. "Men are so hard to keep in line. I've given up on training them. So, you both look stuffed. I made up the closet room for you, unless you and Harry are sharing his room?"

Blood instantly rushed to Ginny's face. She looked down at the floor, shaking her head, silently cursing Renee Blackstone.

Harry cleared his throat. "Er—no." She wouldn't dare look at him. "But she can have mine if she wants it. I can take the closet."

Still not looking at Harry, Ginny shook her head. "Don't be silly. I'm not taking your room." She had no idea what a closet room was, but it didn't sound too pleasant; yet she could not stand to let Harry be chivalrous much longer.

"Well, come on then," said Renee, laughter still keeping her mouth wide.

Ginny, her face still a bit warm, followed the girl down the small corridor that began between the kitchen and the living room.

"This—" Renee started to point at the slightly open door on the left, but there was an angry screech and yowl. A black cat shot out from the small opening and streaked into the kitchen; a split-second later the door burst open and a span of white feathers shot after the black streak.

"Hedwig!" Harry shouted, ducking and spinning around as the great owl, talons out, tried to snatch the cat out from under the barstools.

"—is Harry's room," Renee finished. She rolled her eyes. "Harry, get your owl away from Rum."

"How did he even get in there?" asked Harry as he opened a cupboard and grabbed a box of owl treats. "The door's always shut when Hedwig's there."

"He's a smart cat. I haven't been looking through your drawers, if that's what you're worried about," she said at the very moment she was peeking into the darkened room. "You don't have daring enough boxers to play with, anyway. Despite all my efforts," she whispered to Ginny.

I don't want to know, Ginny thought, hoping she wasn't cringing too badly.

"Hedwig!" Harry called, holding up a treat with his right hand and his left arm out invitingly. "I'll give you a treat if you leave the cat alone."

The owl dove one last time for the cat, then swooped up and landed gracefully on Harry's arm, clicking her beak affectionately. Harry gave his pet a stern but amused look. "You know, I shouldn't even give you this," he said. She promptly cuffed him with a wing. "All right," he laughed, giving her the treat.

When she finished her treat and disappeared into Harry's room, the black cat crawled out from under the barstool and trotted over to Renee. She scooped him up and he was soon purring.

"Rumplestiltskin here has a crush on Harry's bird," said Renee, scratching the small cat under his chin, "but Hedwig doesn't believe in interspecies dating."

The cat opened his eyes and braced his paws on Renee's shoulder to stare curiously at Ginny. She gasped. He has purple eyes!

Renee looked at her and laughed. "I know. He's a fair dinkum cat, though."

"Sorry?"

"Genuine," said Harry, coming up and brushing a feather out of his hair where Hedwig had cuffed him. "It's Aussie slang. You'll get used to it."

Rum meowed and crawled further up onto Renee's shoulder, stretching his neck out toward Ginny.

"He wants you," said Renee, handing the cat over. "Come on, I'll show you the rest."

Rum pushed his head under Ginny's chin and purred enthusiastically. She giggled as his whiskers tickled her neck and adjusted her hold on his small, silky body. Harry caught her eye and smiled.

"Maybe he'll leave Hedwig alone now," he murmured as Renee opened the bathroom door on the right and told her where the towels were kept.

Again, her cheeks warmed slightly. Was Harry flirting with her? No. He's just more comfortable being here than stuck with me somewhere. There's nothing wrong with being friendly.

"My room's on the end," Renee said, pointing to the open door at the end of the corridor. Ginny could see the end of a bed with purple sheets, more scattered shoes and clothes, and could hear rock music coming from an unseen stereo. "Your room is here—" She opened the other door on Harry's side, reached in, and flicked on the light. "It's actually just a closet, but I expanded it a few feet to make a sort of guest room. I can't do much, since this is a Muggle building, but it helps.

"I hope you're not claustrophobic," the Aussie added, stepping into the expanded closet.

Shaking her head, Ginny thought shamefully of the fear still active in her after being captive in the dark cold of Malfoy's cell.

Peering into the small room, Ginny tried to swallow the lump in her throat. A twin bed was pushed against the left wall, complete with a pillow, sheets, and light blanket; an old trunk sat at the end of the bed. The right side of the room seemed only a little wider than the bed and was lined with hooks for clothes. Spellotaped just above the hooks was a chord of purple Rope Light that Ginny thought served the purpose of breaking through the prison cell atmosphere, as did the surfing and koala posters on each wall.

"It's not much," Renee said apologetically. "I mostly use it for some of the backpackers that need a quick place to stay. Or when a mate's too off his face to walk home." She tucked a sun-lighted streak of hair behind her ear. "I would just roll this bed into my room and share, but I tend to keep odd hours and I'm a slob. And the bed in the big room gets too much traffic."

"No, this is fine," Ginny said quickly, hoping her discomfort didn't show.

"Just keep the door open if it feels too closed in. I also just changed the sheets." Renee stepped out of the closet and looked between Ginny and Harry. "You both look ready to cark it. Hungry? I know you snatched my toast, Harry."

"Actually, I'm just going to shower and have a nap," said Harry, running a hand through his hair and yawning a bit.

Renee nodded and turned to Ginny. "I'll get you a couple of things. It can get hot in there sometimes if I forget to charm it." She disappeared into her room and Rum wiggled out of Ginny's arms to follow, leaving her alone with Harry.

"Well," said Harry, shoving his hands into his pockets, "that's Renee."

"She's . . . nice," Ginny said honestly. "Energetic." As much as she didn't want to admit it, Renee reminded her quite a bit of Alyson, but just a bit less sophisticated and living with Harry.

"Yeah. You get used to it." Harry grinned a little. "She can be grumpy, too." Yawning again, he rubbed a corner of his right eye and peeked at Ginny again. "So," he said slowly, looking rather shy. "Do you like the place?"

Ginny looked back out at the open area. "It's really nice. How can you afford it, though?" As soon as she asked it, she felt a bit foolish: Harry had money, and her mother always said it was a bit rude to ask someone about his finances.

Harry shrugged. "The rates aren't as bad as London. And Renee actually pays most of it. She won't let you do a full half. She's got money."

"What does she do?"

"DJs for AWWN—er, Australia's Wizard Wireless Network." At Ginny's incredulous look, Harry added, "Nay's also got some share in an opal factory. I'll explain later. Or you can ask her."

"Here we are!" Renee sang, coming out of the bedroom with clothes draped in her arms and a fan floating before her. Ginny could just make out the tip of a wand pointing out from under a faded summer dress.

"You can sleep in this," she said, holding up the faded blue dress by its thin straps. "It's pretty old, but it'll do for around the house. You can look through this other stuff and see if there's anything you like. We can go to the markets or Salvos tomorrow, if you like." Then she dropped to her knees and plugged in the fan. "You can use magic or this to keep it from getting stuffy in here."

"Thank you," said Ginny.

"No worries, mate," Renee smiled, straightening up and brushing hair out of her eyes. "It's bonzer to finally meet one of Harry's old mates. Hopefully you're not as secretive as he is," she added, casting a teasing wink over Ginny's shoulder at Harry.

"Oh come off it," Harry muttered, "you like people to be mysterious."

"Too right." Clapping her hands together, Renee stepped out of the room. "I'll let you two settle in. I've got to drop in on Sam and see if she's seen my limeys. I didn't want to wear red today . . ."

When the front door clicked shut, Harry looked back at Ginny questioningly. "Did you want the shower first?"

Now that Renee's energy had ceased to pummel her, Ginny could feel every exhausted bone in her body begging for the bed. "No, you go on," she said tiredly. "I can't stay up another minute."

"You'll be all right?" Harry cast the tiny 'bedroom' a dubious look.

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be?" Not even she could ignore the slight quaver in her voice.

"Nothing, it's just that I know I couldn't sleep in there." His mouth quirked sheepishly. "I don't like sleeping in cupboards."

"No, I suppose eleven years of it would do that to a person," Ginny said wryly. She appraised the closet again and tried to quell the anxiety creeping up her spine. This was nothing like Lucius Malfoy's icy cell. "I'll be fine, Harry. I'll leave the door open, if it makes you feel better," she added jokingly.

Harry snorted and seemed a little embarrassed. "I'll get your bag."

As he went back out to the kitchen, Ginny sagged against the threshold. Her heart pounded at the idea of living in this tiny hole in the wall. She hated to admit how much she was counting on the purple lights and open door to fight her claustrophobia. Not to mention that she very much valued privacy, and an open door would definitely inhibit this.

"Ginny?" Harry had returned. She could barely open her eyes to acknowledge him, but felt him brush by her to set the bag on the small pile of clothes. He paused outside the door. "I'll be right next door if you need anything."

She nodded and opened her eyes enough to watch him gently keep Rum from reentering his bedroom. When he disappeared into it, she sighed and completely entered her new 'room,' exhaustion fighting her every movement. After examining the blue summer dress for a minute, Ginny reluctantly closed the door and shed her travel clothes and quickly slipped into the dress. It was soft, thin, and free and came only to a few inches above her knees. Stretching luxuriously, Ginny took a minute to adjust to so much air touching her skin.

Then she opened the door a few inches so that some light and air would come into the room, turned on the fan, and shut off the light.

Trying hard not to think about the dungeon cell where her troubles had begun, Ginny crawled into bed and pulled the sheets tightly around her. Before she could recall her desperate fear, physical and mental exhaustion overtook her and she fell into a deep sleep.