In This Life
Chapter 2
Lines on your face don't bother me
Down in my chair when you dance over me
I can't help myself
I've got to see you again
Late in the night when I'm all alone
And I look at the clock and I know you're not home
I can't help myself
I've got to see you again
I could almost go there
Just to watch you be seen
I could almost go there
Just to live in a dream
But no I won't go for any of those things
To not touch your skin is not why I sing
I can't help myself
I've got to see you again
I could almost go there
Just to watch you be seen
I could almost go there
Just to live in a dream
No, I won't go to share you with them
But, oh, even though I know where
You've been
I can't help myself
I've got to see you again
-"I've Got To See You Again," Norah Jones
»-»-»
Shelley was sitting cross-legged on a squeaky double bed in a Holiday Inn near Boston, still totally in awe about where she was. America. And with Harry Potter! Something big was going to happen; she knew it. She didn't know what, but she could feel it.
"So, Shelley, we've got 2 weeks, a car, a map, and unlimited money courtesy of your father, who clearly has no foresight. Where to first?"
Shelley giggled, pulling out a map of the East Coast. "Umm… well, I was thinking about it on the way over, and I think we should go to Rhode Island, then Connecticut, and then to New York. You know, go in a kind of circle, if that's okay with you." She looked up at him.
Harry shrugged. "It's your trip. That sounds good, though. Why Rhode Island?"
"I dunno," she said, "it just seems like the kind of place that would be fun. I mean, it's got pretty much everything, and it's really peaceful and everything. I'm big on that. I love city life in London but it's really nice to have some quiet every now and then, you know?"
Harry nodded in her direction.
He definitely knew.
»-»-»
So it was the next morning, that Harry and Shelley were found lugging two huge suitcases in each of their hands out to the compact car they had rented. By 8:00, they were checked out of the hotel and sitting in the car. Harry sighed. He was going to have fun on this trip if it killed him. He plastered on a big grin and turned to her. "Okay; you ready?"
"Yup! I've got it all figured out. Today we've got to drive to Attleboro on I-95. That's only about 25 miles. Then we can stay at a bed-and-breakfast or something and pick it up from there."
Harry, still trying to keep up his spirits, put his hands on the steering wheel, keeping the fake grin plastered on. Yes, this is where Hermione is. Okay, sure, not necessarily here-here, but somewhere in the country, none-the-less. Why had you never bothered to ask, idiot? You're never going to see her anyway. It's fine. Stop mourning. Get over it.
"All righty, then, let's go," he said, and turned the key in the ignition. "This is it… the official beginning!" He turned on the radio and told Shelley to pick the station. She switched from one selection to another until she found an alternative rock song that she liked. Harry listened and hummed along, stopping every now and then to point historical sitings or interesting aspects out to the young girl.
They arrived at Attleboro around 9:00 due to the rush-hour traffic, and went to find somewhere to eat breakfast and rest for the next couple of nights. They ended up eating at a diner called "Nan's" and then registering for three days at the Colonel Blackington Inn.
Shelley, who, for the time being, seemed oblivious to Harry's view of the trip, was incredibly excited. "Oh, Uncle Harry, this is going to be so much fun! You know, of all of Dad's bizarre friends, you're my favorite," she said with a grin.
Harry pretended to think about it for a second. "Heyyyyyy… that wasn't very nice."
Shelley giggled. "Come on. I want to go and take a look in the shops for a while. Can we? Pleeeease?"
"Oh, God," Harry groaned, "Don't make the angel face. NOT THE ANGEL FACE! You know I can't resist the angel face. All right, fine, we'll go. Just lead the way."
"Excellent." Shelley took off walking, leaving Harry in her wake. She turned back when she saw that he was about six feet behind her and giggled, "Come on, aren't you coming already?"
»-»-»
"Aww, another one?" Harry groaned when Shelley turned into another bath shop. There were only so many different smelly stores a man can handle while still retaining his dignity. "Ah, well, it is her birthday trip. I must be somewhat tolerant."
Just then, he spotted a bookstore. Salvation! (Boy, never thought he'd think that.) "Heyyyy, Shelley? I'm just going to head into that bookstore over there and look at books... And stuff. So come and get me when you're finished sniffing soaps and hugging towels and the like."
Shelley nodded to show that she heard him and went back to discussing scents with the woman working at the cash register.
»-»-»
Harry pushed in the door to the bookstore. Somewhere in the back, a bell rang. He took a look around. The store was of moderate size, with a register next to the door and shelves lining the walls and running through the center of the store. At the register was a woman who was very clearly engrossed in a telephone call she was making and didn't even appear to hear him come in.
"So he sent you flowers, right? Aww, how sweet. Not. Asshole. I hope you sent them- good, you sent them back. Sometimes guys just have to learn the hard way that you can't buy a woman some pretty smelly things and hope that it's all better. You know? You gotta put your heart into- hold on a sec," she said, just noticing Harry.
She placed her hand over the receiver. "Excuse me… excuse me, sir?" she said, trying to catch the attention of Harry, who was currently looking at a copy of One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi. This was a wizarding bookstore! He had just figured it out now, and boy, was he proud of-
"Excuse me! Excuse me, sir! Are you Harry Potter?"
Harry jumped out of his reverie and back into reality by the pretty looking young girl at the cash register. She reminded him of someone… someone… but who?
"Yes… yes, I'm Harry Potter," he muttered. He had been hoping that there wouldn't be any of this in the States.
"Oh. It's too bad my sister isn't here. I think she would love to see you. Sweet Merlin," she murmured. "Her description sure didn't do you justice."
"Ah… yes… ahem. Well, lovely meeting you…" he drifted off, not having a name.
"Bella. Well, Isobella, actually, but just call me Bella."
"Right. Lovely meeting you, Bella, but I've got to run. My niece is in that bath and body store across the street."
"All right, then, nice to meet you!"
As Harry was leaving, he heard Bella get back onto the phone. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Becks, but guess who just walked into the store? Harry Potter...! I KNOW!"
He turned to leave and then, all of a sudden, out of the corner of his eye, he could have sworn he saw Hermione. Hermione! Walking down the street! He raced outside… Only to discover that it was a 40-year-old woman with piggy eyes and two small children. Get a grip, Potter...! You're losing it.
»-»-»
Harry walked quickly towards the bath and body shop and was about to walk inside when Shelley came out with the girl that had been working at the counter moments before. "Uncle Harry, this is Amelia. If it's all right with you, I'm going to go over to her house for a while and hang out."
Harry shrugged. "Sure. Where's her house and what time do you want me to pick you up?"
Amelia spoke up. "You can come around for dinner if you want later, sir. Our house is about 6 blocks ahead and one block to the right. 6621 Oak Street."
Harry smiled at her. "I might just take you up on that. How about I come around 8? Is that all right?"
They both nodded. "All right, then," he said, "I'll take the car so we don't have to walk in the dark. Have fun, Shelley! Nice to meet you, Amelia."
They turned and walked down the street. "Ron would kill me if he knew," he said to himself with a grin.
But Ron didn't have to know, now did he?
»-»-»
Harry spent the rest of the day browsing in the stores and ate lunch at a little café. When he got back to the inn around 7, he sat down to write Ron a message.
Dear Ron (and Luna):
Things are going great over here. We arrived in Boston without a hitch. Stayed there overnight and are now in Attleboro, Massachusetts; we've got a hotel room reserved for 3 nights and we'll just sort of wing it from there. Just writing to fill you in on things. Shelley sends her best wishes (although she's out with a friend that she's made-(yes, already)- but I'm sure she'd want you to have her love). Have fun with the Quibbler assignment!
-Harry
8:00 came around, and Harry arrived at Amelia's house to pick up Shelley. He climbed out of the tiny car that had yet to be relieved of its suitcases, and walked up to the front door. He rang the doorbell and, when it was answered, said, "Hi, I'm here to pick up Sh-" He had just gotten a glimpse of who had opened the front door and suddenly understood what it felt like to have the Sahara Desert sitting in his mouth.
"HARRY?"
»-»-»
Author's Note: I don't know if I've told you how much I love this story. But I do. Anyways, I heard this mystery story yesterday. You know that blue box in the lowerleft hand corner? Under the story? If you click on it, there's supposed to be something that makes the author really happy.
…Just a rumor, though.
P.S. You're not going to see another one of these until after I get back on the 29th, so MERRY CHRISTMAS!
P.P.S. Sorry this is so late- had exams and other things to take care of. Haven't been on the compie in the week. –strokes it lovingly-
Daleia: Either they don't know where she is or they're not letting on because she's asked them not to… but we'll find out about that later. ;D
Sodasgirl678: Hmm, I don't know. Hadn't thought of that. I think he works there… I can just see him wandering around and being totally serious and asking people if they've spotted any nargles recently.