DISCLAIMER: Ha! As if I owned Harry Potter... T.T

Last time on Trippin:

WizTV

230 South Alley

Diagon Alley, UK

25 August 2005

Dear Mr. Potter,

WizTV has cordially invited you to take part in our new reality show, Trippin: Britain's Best and Brightest! Imagine spending five glorious months traveling to New York, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Hawaii, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Bali, Cairo, Rome, and Paris with six chosen others for FREE! You will be able to explore both the wizarding and muggle areas of each city, learn the different cultures, and even contribute back to the communities by participating in life-enriching activities and projects!

It's an all-expense-paid trip around the world and we would like to have you on it! All we want in return is your tolerance for being filmed on camera and your willingness to experience new things! (Don't worry, your privacy will be respected!)

Once you have made up your mind, kindly sign the enclosed contract and attach this onto the delivery owl along any other questions you might have. We do hope to have you on board!

Sincerely yours,

Cal H. Davis

C.E.O. of WizTV and producer of Joe Galleonaire, The Unicorn, and Pimp My Flight

Episode One: New York! New York!

John F. Kennedy Airport

'I can't believe I'm really doing this," Hermione thought to herself over and over again as she made her way down to the baggage claim. Somehow she felt as if she was drifting somewhere in between consciousness and reality. Like the real Hermione had actually snuck off, grabbed a bucket of popcorn, and was watching everything from afar.

Oh, what she would give to be with that Hermione instead of being the one watched.

Her legs and feet seemed to have a mind of their own as they steered her along with the rest of the crowd, strolling along at a leisurely pace. If only her brain would be as relaxed as her feet. It was working overtime trying to figure out why she'd agreed to do the blasted reality show. The minute Hermione received that letter asking her to be a part of the show, Hermione had marched straight to the new magical technology shop at Diagon Alley and purchased the complete box sets of Joe Galleonaire, The Unicorn, and Pimp My Flight. Hermione wasn't one to take things as they come and walk around in the dark; she was going to be well-informed in what exactly she was getting herself into, thank you very much.

And it seemed as though it was a good thing she did her research, too.

After watching the first episode of Joe Galleonaire on her new WizTech home entertainment system, Hermione just about keeled over from all the drama. It was like a very bad version of those awful Muggle soap operas her mother was addicted to without all the unplanned pregnancies, amnesias, and life-changing operations. No, it was a tad different than a soap opera since it had a tiny speck of reality in it. A very tiny speck. For some reason, the wizarding world decided to do a remake of the hit Muggle show, Joe Millionaire, except with an even crueler twist; not only will 'Joe' have only a couple of sickles to his name, but he will also be a mountain hag that has been disguised as this handsome, rich wizard. Hermione cringed as witch after witch cried, whined, and flirted shamelessly episode after episode for a mountain hag who really didn't know any better. Oh yeah, quite the entertainment. Of course, the really amusing part would have to be the last episode when the mountain hag was released from his wizard-facade charm and tried to eat the last girl chosen.

The series was a freak show in itself.

The next show, The Unicorn, also turned out to be a huge disappointment. At first, Hermione had been excited to watch an educational show about an interesting magical creature only to be confirmed her worst nightmare. She should have known that the producer of Joe Galleonaire would never air a show about the unicorn's lifestyle and habits. And yet it was far worse than Hermione could ever imagine. Fifteen female squibs deprived of beauty, love, and magic compete for the title of The Unicorn through a series of magical operations, magical infusions, personality makeovers, and- to Hermione's horror- a pageant. The winner, who had the opportunity to be crowned as Miss Unicorn, strutted around the stage in a skimpy bikini and shot sparks from the end of her wand.

It was a sight to watch, that was for sure.

Surprisingly, Pimp My Flight wasn't half as bad as the others. Judging from the title, Hermione knew it was going to be about flying or Quidditch or both; two things she never got the hang of doing. Then she discovered that it was actually a show about a team of broomstick makers who 'pimp out' different witches' and wizards' old racing brooms. It was quite fascinating to watch a woebegone, scraggly broomstick get transformed into a shiny, top-of-the-line racing broom complete with seat cushion and different buttons to trigger outrageous things like a portable TV, a soda cooler, and– in one witch's case– a shoerack.

Hermione would bet a million Galleons that Harry and Ron would definitely have been the first ones to sign up for it if they had been informed about the show.

After she finished watching all three shows, Hermione had turned off her WizTech television and leaned back on her sofa, deep in thought. There was one thing evident on all three shows and that was the expression of exhilaration on all of the participants, even on Joe Galleonaire. Those girls looked like they were having fun embarking on a new, unexpected adventure. And Hermione realized with a pang that she wanted to go on that same adventure, too– just not the Joe Galleonaire one, of course. She wanted to feel the same sense of excitement and energy that she felt during her first year at Hogwarts when everything was new and exciting. That first adventure with Harry and Ron was the one that made the biggest impression on her; not the more dangerous ones that came after. Sure, they were more impulsive and invigorating, but the novelty of having an adventure soon wore off little by little for Hermione. When she stood alongside her best friends after Harry finished off Voldemort, she was just relieved it was all over for good.

Now, after eight years of a normal, routine life, Hermione was starting to feel restless. She definitely wouldn't want to go back in time and live through the horrible times when Voldemort still loomed large and powerful over their heads. No, she wanted to try something different. She'd gotten more than a taste of heroic adventures, but now she was also starting to feel...bored with her normal life and her real job. It was time for something new. And what would be better than to star in a new reality show and get to travel the world at the same time?

At the time, the idea seemed foolproof. Now, all Hermione wanted to do was Apparate herself back home and dart under her comforter never to emerge again. The thought of being followed by a camera everywhere made her feel nauseous. Why didn't she add in the camera factor when she was making her decision? And... oh Merlin! Didn't cameras add ten pounds to your frame?

Damn it to hell!

Speaking of being followed, Hermione couldn't help but feel as if she was being watched. She convinced herself that someone behind her was just randomly staring at other people's backs, and she happened to be a random target. But when she casually turned around, nobody seemed to pay her the least bit of attention. Frowning, Hermione could still feel the hairs on the back of her neck bristle nervously.

Shoving away her previous thoughts and determined to find out who was watching her, Hermione slipped into the ladies' room and was glad to find it relatively empty. A woman finished washing her hands and walked past her, leaving her all alone in the room. Hermione began splashing some water on her face but paused when she could still feel that unshakeable, eery feeling.

Just as she suspected.

Dabbing her face slowly with a paper towel, she inconspicuously withdrew her wand from her pocket, swivelled around, and cried out, "Expelliarmus!"

At first, the red spark shot off of the end of her wand harmlessly into thin air. That is, until it knocked into something invisible hovering about three feet in front of her and said something blew up into smithereens.

Before Hermione could pick up her jaw off the floor, there was a small popping sound and a skinny, bald wizard appeared next to the pile of whatever she had blown up. "Aw! I just fixed that!" the wizard wailed, crouching down and inspecting the damage. "Whatchu have to blow that up for?"

"Wh- what?" Hermione spluttered in confusion, watching the disgruntled wizard examine random bits and pieces of glass and plastic. He was still eyeing her spitefully. Sighing, he stood up and cleared off the mess with a flick of his wand. Hermione swore she heard him mutter something like "ruddy drama queens" under his breath.

Ignoring the comment, Hermione repeated her question once more, her brows furrowed together in confusion, "Whatexactly was that?" At this point, her curiosity definitely won over her temper.

"That-" he spat at her, beady eyes narrowed. "Was your goddamn camera."

Realization dawned on her then and Hermione finally understood why she felt as if she was being watched. Feeling foolish now, she retorted back, "Well, why was it invisible? Shouldn't there be a camera crew somewhere?" She wasn't sure how reality TV worked in the wizarding world, but muggles used camera crews so it was entirely possible that the wizarding TV methods were similar.

However, the bald wizard just scoffed at her comment and waved it away. "Camera crews are so muggle. No, we prefer invisible cameras to follow you primadonnas around, especially for reality TV." At Hermione's blank stare, he sighed and continued in an exasperated tone, "You guys forget about the cameras... you do crazy stuff... we get high ratings. Comprende?"

Hermione just nodded absentmindedly, ignoring the bald wizard's rudeness. She was too busy wondering just what the hell she has gotten herself into.

The Crown of the Statue of Liberty

CREEEEAK...

The spotless white door creaked ominously as Harry slowly pushed the door aside and stuck his head inside. Rows of bright lights and illuminated, translucent floor tiles greeted his shocked green eyes. Talk about renovation!

Struggling slightly with his heavy bags, Harry managed to maneuver himself through the door and gently nudged it with his heel to slam it shut. He was in the middle of a spacious foyer, that much was clear. Gripping the leather handles of his bags tightly in his hand, Harry proceeded down the foyer and descended down the translucent steps that led into the living room.

Clearing his throat nervously, Harry glanced about the empty living room and called out, "Hello? Anybody here?"

Earlier, the guard told him that he was to meet one of his roommates inside the liberty's crown. At the time, Harry was still a bit shell-shocked about spending two weeks inside the famous American monument to register what the guard was saying, so he merely nodded and took the Portkey that would transport him up here. Now, though, he was starting to feel butterflies fluttering around in his stomach. Not to mention the sweat literally forming on his palms.

Truth be told, Harry didn't even want to be here at all. He was persuaded into this whole reality TV thing by Ginny, who was convinced that a little break away from Auror work would do him a load of good. That morning, right after she caught him in the study with the letter clutched in his hand, Ginny decided that this was the perfect opportunity for Harry to go out there and see the world. Of course, he wouldn't hear of leaving Auror headquarters, but Ginny had argued that it was time for him to put the past behind him and experience something new.

And surprisingly enough, Harry had complied. After a whole load of convincing on Ginny's part.

After setting his things down on the floor, he was just about to "hunt down" his supposed roommate when the faint sounds of high heels against the floor appeared from one of the brightly-lit hallways. Feeling like he was about eleven years old again, Harry absentmindedly reached up and flattened his hair nervously over his scar. Although everybody in the wizarding world knew who he was, he was still self-conscious about the infamous mark on his forehead and always felt as if he needed to hide the fact that it existed.

He plastered a huge, friendly grin on his face as the footsteps grew louder, only to be greeted by...

"Oh, bugger."

Thirty minutes after Harry received the shock of his life...

"Oof!" Hermione breathed as she stumbled backwards and lost her footing. Immediately, a pair of strong, rough hands pulled her up by the arms before she could tumble back and split her head open.

"Whoa, careful now!" the deep voice of Oliver Wood resonated around the dark landing. She was now currently pressed up against the well-built, professional Quidditch player, thanks to his fast reflexes. Blushing furiously, Hermione stepped away and awkwardly hovered near the white door, thanking Merlin for the semi-darkness hiding her tomato-red face.

"Erm... thank you for... that..." she stammered nervously, running a hand through her wavy locks absentmindedly.

Oliver shrugged and, even in the dark, she could see him displaying his pearly whites in a chiseled smile. "No problem," he quipped, walking over to the pile of luggage and levitating them all at once with his wand. "Would you like to do the honors?" He gestured towards the door with his chin and raised a questioning eyebrow at her. Even back at the airport, he'd been the most courteous gentleman, and Hermione was personally glad to see a familiar face in this crazy ordeal.

Briefly fingering the gold chain of her necklace nervously, Hermione took a deep breath before nodding. She moved towards the door and took hold of the stainless steel doorknob which felt icy-cold in her sweaty palm. Struggling to control her rapid heartbeat, she closed her eyes, turned the knob in her hand, and pushed the door open. A couple of seconds passed before she heard Oliver suck in a breath of awe behind her. Once she willed herself to open her eyes and survey her new home for the next two weeks, Hermione heard a little gasp of surprise from none other than herself.

She was facing a magnificent foyer lined with bright spotlights all around. Her eyes widened in surprise at the glowing, translucent floor underneath her feet. Gathering her wits about her, Hermione stepped inside and descended upon the living room, her chocolate-colored eyes as big as saucers.

Everything in the living room was decorated in corresponding shades of white, silver, and beige. The neutral colors lit up the circular living room with a subtle glow and colorful abstract paintings adorned the walls. All of the furniture were unmistakably modern and looked sleek and elegant in the harsh overhead lights. A row of rectangular glass windows ran along one side of the walls, while a glimpse of the high-tech kitchen and a wide, spacious hallway greeted Hermione's shocked eyes.

In fact, she was so entranced by her new living quarters that she completely overlooked the two figures rising from the sofa arrangements in the middle of the room.

"HERMIONE?"

It wasn't until she heard a familiar voice utter her name in an incredulous tone that Hermione realized her own best friend was standing only a couple yards away from her, too stunned to move.

"HARRY!" she spluttered in disbelief, tentatively moving towards her raven-haired friend as she rubbed her eyes in disbelief. Once she was totally convinced that it was actually Harry, Hermione shrieked in delight and tackled him into a bone-crushing hug. The minute she let go, Hermione's curiosity took over and she instantly demanded, "What are you doing here!"

Harry, recovering from the shock of Hermione's sudden appearance, retorted back, "Come off it, Hermione! What are YOU doing here!"

"Same reason as you!"

Harry quirked a playful eyebrow at her. "Ginny threatened to castrate you, too, did she?"

Hermione glared angrily at her best friend before huffing, "Well, it's not THAT obviously." She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms before her. "I'm just not one to pass up a free round trip ticket around the world, thank you very much."

Obviously, she was doing a bad job at fooling Harry since he was still eyeing her dubiously and chuckling softly to himself. "Right...and I suppose you of all people enjoy being in front of the camera 24/7?" His emerald eyes strayed from his friend's seething form to a point behind her and lit up considerably. "Oliver, mate! Good to see you again!"

Hermione rolled her eyes as both former Gryffindor Quidditch players thumped each other on the backs and turned around to face the other person that had stood up with Harry. Her eyebrows shot up considerably as she smiled at none other than Cho Chang, former Ravenclaw princess and the object of Harry Potter's very first crush.

The sleek-haired witch smiled politely at Hermione and extended a hand out to the latter. "Hermione Granger. How can I forget? So good to see you again."

Hermione, still a bit flummoxed, awkwardly shook the slightly-older girl's hand as she recalled the former Ravenclaw's none-too-friendly views about her back at Hogwarts. After all, it didn't take a genius to figure out that Cho was not so fond of her based on what Harry told her back in fifth year. "Hello, Cho. The pleasure is all mine," she answered politely, struggling to summon up a genuine smile.

Their forced, polite greeting was thankfully interrupted by a jolly Oliver who insisted that Harry must show them around the house. Hermione was only happy to refrain from an awkward conversation with Cho as Harry took her and Oliver for a quick tour of the place. She did, however, have to keep avoiding making eye-contact with Harry since she knew that her best friend was just bursting to ask her what she was doing there.

But of course, he wasn't Harry Potter for nothing.

The minute Oliver ambled back into the living room and struck up a conversation with Cho, Harry held back in the hallway with Hermione and pounced immediately.

"So...Hermione," he began solemnly, his green eyes looking dead serious as he leaned back against the white wall– and at the same time, blocking the way into the living room. Peeved, Hermione only gave a little huff and crossed her arms, annoyed. "Can you imagine my surprise when I find you HERE of all places when you SPECIFICALLY told me that you were going to SPAIN to launch the new range of Granger Appliances?"

Hermione was flabbergasted. How was it that he was able to remember THAT but couldn't seem to remember where his keys were half the time?

Steering away from the topic, Hermione retorted, "Well, it wasn't as if you were being Mr. Honest either! I believe you told me that you were visiting Ron in Paris?" A triumphant smile graced her features as Harry reddened a bit and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Touché, Hermione," he said at last. "But in my defense, Paris is listed as one of the places we'll be visiting." She was just about to brush past him when Harry suddenly threw out an arm and blocked her path again, a hint of genuine curiosity behind his green eyes. "Wait a minute now. What does Ron think of this?"

Sighing, Hermione avoided looking into Harry's eyes as she responded, "Err...well, he doesn't really know what to think of this..."

Harry's eyes immediately narrowed suspiciously. "And what do you mean by that?"

Unfortunately, the truth blurted itself out before she could contain it. "He thinks I'm in Spain, too."

"Hermione..."

She cut him off before he could utter another word. "Look, Harry. I WILL tell Ron, okay?" She paused and took a deep breath. "Just not... right now. You know Ron... He's so overprotective. He would immediately see this as a bad idea or some dark ploy, and he'd probably fly back to London or something so we can 'talk it out.' I couldn't let that happen. You know how much this championship means to him..." Her brown eyes pleaded with Harry's bright green ones until the latter sighed and nodded. Seeing her friend's resolve gradually weaken, Hermione added, "And you know he doesn't watch television when he's on tour with the Cannons, so it's not like he would find out either way."

Harry sighed again before rubbing the back of his neck absentmindedly. What Hermione was saying was absolutely right. "Fine. But you promise you'll tell him later? After the championship?" She nodded. "And promise that you'll tell ME later? The reason why you're here?" he pressed on, staring directly into her eyes. Hermione hesitated but nodded nonetheless; she could never say no to that look.

"Good," Harry said, finally looking satisfied and motioning Hermione to follow him. "Let's go into the kitchen. I need something to drink..."

Hermione glanced back towards the living room where she could hear Cho prattling on about her television talk show, Chit Chat With Cho. How appropriate. "Don't you think we should join them?" she asked Harry, following him into the kitchen anyway and watching him pour himself a full glass of wine from the fridge.

Harry pulled a face and shook his head, downing half of the contents in less than two seconds. "Half an hour with her ALONE was bad enough... I swear if I hear another bloody word about her half-wit talk show, I would literally ki-"

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

"I'll get it!" Oliver shouted from the other room, sounding oddly relieved. Hermione could just imagine the poor bloke practically running to get to the door. Harry, on the other hand, just gave her an I-told-you-so look.

Feeling her curiosity take over, Hermione stepped out of the kitchen just as the door swung open to reveal...

Neville Longbottom. Or more specifically, a very TALL Neville Longbottom.

Hermione had to blink a couple of times just to make sure it wasn't someone else. "Neville?" she breathed out, watching as the freakishly tall bloke dumped his bags on the floor next to Oliver, a humongous grin forming on his face as he spotted Harry and herself. Behind her, Hermione could hear Harry gasp in shock, "Whoa."

Whoa indeed.

Both of them haven't seen or heard from Neville in quite a while. The last thing she heard about her fellow Gryffindor alum was that he had invented some sort of herbal potion that would render the drinker immune to the Imperius Curse.

Quite an achievement for someone who used to trip over his own potions cauldron.

However, before Hermione could rush out and properly greet her old friend, a sparkling vision appeared suddenly behind Neville and surveyed the room with a bored glance. The statuesque beauty poised in the doorway certainly took them all by surprise, and Hermione could hear Harry whistle impressively.

Whoever she was (Hermione wasn't sure of her name, although she did seem rather familiar) was dressed in a short, white sundress that left little to the imagination and a pair of extremely high, gold heels that set off the girl's amazing tan nicely. She had long, golden hair that flowed sleekly down her back and a photogenic model face framed with Chanel sunglasses. Hermione swore she could practically HEAR the drool dripping from Oliver, Harry, and Neville's mouths.

"Oh sweet M-merlin," she could hear Neville stutter in awe. "You're that V-veronica's Mystery m-model, aren't you?" Then a lightbulb clicked in her head. So THAT was where she'd seen her!

Of course the girl was a Veronica's Mystery model! The popular witches' lingerie store regularly distributed a monthly catalogue to the residences of every witch in Britain. However, it was common knowledge that the men spent more time laving over the pages than the women. No doubt, Harry, Oliver, and Neville would be amongst those men.

"Well, if you're all done staring now, I can use a bit of help with my luggage," the Veronica's Mystery model snapped, looking thoroughly fed up with all the googly eyes the guys were giving her. Instantly, Harry, Oliver, and Neville snapped to attention and rushed for the large pile of suitcases piled outside the door. Cho, glaring daggers at the newcomer for stealing away all the attention, stomped off towards the bathroom and slammed the door. As for Hermione, she threw a dark look at Harry before looking mournfully down at her favorite suede loafers, which the Boy Wonder had trampled on in his haste to get to the bags before the others.

After inspecting the damage (which was quite severe due to Harry's oversized feet), Hermione properly greeted Neville first– which only lasted a few minutes since he was occupied with a particularly large monogrammed suitcase– then summoned up her courage and approached the intimidating blonde beauty who was currently reclining on the sofa, her French-manicured hand slowly massaging her forehead.

Hermione cleared her throat nervously and took the couch opposite her. "Hi." The hand massaging her forehead ceased abruptly and Hermione could see the blonde squinting at her curiously. "I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced yet. I'm Hermione Granger."

A couple of seconds passed and Hermione's stomach muscles tightened ominously with humiliation. 'Oh, I knew this was a bad idea! Why, oh why, do I have to be so friendly ALL the time?' However, just when Hermione was about to spout out some ridiculous excuse and get the hell away from the awkward situation, the blonde seated across from her nodded slowly in acknowledgment.

Hermione blinked.

"Yea, I know who you are," the blonde answered finally, a polite smile appearing on her perfectly symmetrical features. She let her hand drop down to her side and sat up with a stifled yawn. "I'm Daphne, by the way. Daphne Greengrass. It's a pleasure to see you again, Hermione."

Hermione's mind swirled in confusion. 'See me again? Huh? And Daphne Greengrass... Daphne Greengrass... Why does that name sound so bloody familiar!' But Hermione wasn't the brightest witch of her age for nothing. In less than two seconds, everything clicked in her head and her jaw had dropped some two or three feet.

"DAPHNE GREENGRASS?" she shrieked in surprise, drawing the attention of Harry, Oliver, and Neville who were busy bringing in the heavy luggage. "You were in our year at Hogwarts, weren't you? You took your O.W.L.s with me!" Then Hermione gasped. "Sweet Merlin, how you've changed!"

And that was quite the understatement. It took a while but Hermione was quite sure she remembered the Daphne she had known back at Hogwarts. However, since Daphne was in Slytherin house and was therefore an automatic rival of the Gryffindors, Hermione never had the chance to get to know the shy, timid Slytherin. Yes, the blonde Veronica's Mystery beauty was once extremely shy and withdrawn. Hermione remembered the way poor Daphne used to get picked on by Pansy Parkinson and her gang almost as much as she was taunted by Pansy herself.

Obviously, the mousy little Slytherin had grown up a lot over the years

A weary smile graced Daphne's face as Hermione continued ogling her. "Nothing gets past the Gryffindor princess, does it?" She sighed and nodded. "Yes, I was in your year back at Hogwarts, took the O.W.L.s with you, and did change quite a bit over the course of seven years."

Hermione, who had been opening and closing her mouth like a drowning fish, was finally about to piece together a decent reply when a loud thud sounded behind her. Whirling her head around, Hermione realized that Harry had dropped one of Daphne's humongous trunks, and it was now crushing his left foot. However, Harry didn't appear to notice this. His green eyes were fixed at the front door and his face was beet-red...

"Harry! What in the world–"

But Hermione didn't get to finish her question as she chose to follow Harry's piercing gaze at that moment and saw none other than silvery blond hair, cold gray eyes, and that sickeningly familiar smirk...

A hushed silence filled the room.

Then, coming from herself, and barely audible, "Nooooo..."

Confession Room

Harry (still red-faced and strangely grim): ... I have nothing to say except that if I do not live to see the end of this trip, I will personally make it my unfinished business to haunt a certain Ginny Weasley for the rest of my ghostly life.

Hermione (shaking her head furiously and looking perplexed): I just don't understand why MALFOY is HERE of all places! He was a broomstick billionaire the last time I heard about him! He's just not the sort to participate in trivial things like a show on the telly, you know? Then again he's got a massive head so that might be it... Oh, and poor Harry! I think Malfoy's given him a coronary already!

Oliver (looking quite relaxed): So Draco Malfoy's one of the roommates. Well, that would certainly make for some interesting television, eh? But honestly, putting Malfoy and Harry in the same house together... That's just asking for trouble, that is. Poor blokes won't last a week.

Cho (expertly filing her nails): ...I mean I don't see WHY I shouldn't promote my show on reality television! I have the right to do so! Why not make the best of it while I'm here and all, you know? So anyway, Chit Chat With Cho is on every weekday morning at nine o'clock, don't forget it...

Daphne (kneading her forehead once more): Honestly, out of all the slimy, conniving men I've dated, why does the SNEAKIEST and MOST CONNIVING of them all have to be here? Ugh, I feel another migraine coming on...

Neville (in a high squeaky voice and rocking back and forth nervously): I am a grown man now... I will not be afraid of Malfoy... Why, I'm practically six inches taller than him... No, I won't be afraid... I am not thirteen years old anymore... I am a grown man... A grown man...

Draco (leaning back in his chair with a large Cheshire grin on his face): Am I surprised that Potter's going on this trip? Most certainly. Am I disgusted that I will be sharing a house with a Muggle-born witch? Of course. But do I look daft enough to pass up an opportunity to create some havoc? Definitely not! I trust that this will be a most enjoyable five months. Why, I can almost guarantee it.

Early the next morning...

Harry Potter plodded out of the bedroom he shared with Neville clad only in a pair of plaid boxer shorts and a white tee. His hair, as always, was sticking up all over the place, and his glasses were sitting crookedly on his nose. Although his clothes looked thoroughly rumpled and slept in, Harry looked far from rested as his usually-bright green eyes drooped with fatigue.

Even though he had retired to bed early last night (he couldn't stand the sight of that leering blond git), Harry had finally fallen into a fitful sleep hours after Neville's first snore. He spent the better part of his night gritting his teeth in silent anger and willing away the image of Malfoy's scornful smirk. He still couldn't believe Draco Malfoy was sleeping less than twenty yards away from him. Of all the cruel and ironic things...

Pushing away all the blasted thoughts of the blond-haired git out of his head, Harry entered the spacious bathroom down the hall and gently closed it behind him. He locked the door without hesitation and proceeded to go about his business. Having to share a bathroom with six others was bad enough; he didn't need Malfoy walking in on him taking a bath.

"My, my, you should get some more rest, dear. You look positively dreadful," the gilded mirror piped up the minute Harry passed by. Scowling, he ignored the mirror's comment, set aside his spectacles, and made his way to the back of the bathroom where the bathtub was. As he rounded the partition separating the tub from the rest of the bathroom, Harry had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the magnificence.

A humongous sunken pool took up most of the space in the center, while endless racks of bath oils and beads ran around the marble walls. Even Grawp could have probably fit inside the tub comfortably with enough space to wiggle around in. Instead of sticking to the marble theme like the rest of the bathroom furniture, the floor and rounded sides of the pool-like bathtub was a mosaic of brightly-colored seaglass that sparkled and shone like new gems in the soothing, golden light. Different knobs and faucets lined the rim in all their silver and gold brilliance.

It certainly put the prefects' bathroom at Hogwarts to shame.

Amazed, Harry quickly stripped down and filled up the tub with water and an assortment of bath gels courtesy of the faucets. He threw in a couple of relaxing bath oils before dipping a toe into the rapidly filling tub. Perfect. Feeling the most relaxed in twenty four hours, Harry slipped into the sweet-smelling water and closed his eyes, willing himself to get comfortable. The locked door would grant him some privacy, and plus, he found out from Hermione that the invisible cameras following them around were banned from any bathrooms they encounter on the trip. Harry didn't understand it, but there was a proud sort of look that appeared on his friend's face when she announced it to him.

After soaking in the tub for more than half an hour, Harry's naturally inquisitive eyes spotted a shampoo bottle placed near the tub and impulsively reached out to read the label.

"'Monsieur Rogue's Luxuriant Hair Shampoo,'" he read out loud, amused. "'Be prepared for the best shampoo-ing experience of your life! Have smooth, utterly touchable hair for days on end!'" Shrugging, Harry opened the cap and poured a sizeable amount on his palm before massaging it into his hair. Might as well try the shampoo if the bath soap was doing him this much good.

Pretty soon, even though he tried not to think about it, his current predicament sidled up into his train of thoughts again, demanding attention. He was currently on a reality television show– the sort Aunt Petunia would be hooked on. One of his best friends was adamant on concealing the real reason why she agreed to be on the show. He was living under the same roof as Cho Chang, the girl he had numerous pleasant dreams about all throughout his fifth year, and Daphne Greengrass, the stunning Veronica's Mystery model. Then again, he was also forced to live with Draco Malfoy, the most evil and pretentious ferret ever to walk the Earth. This whole ordeal was so surreal that Harry had previously pinched himself a couple of times just to make sure he wasn't dreaming. He was not, in fact, dreaming but he did achieve quite a row of angry bruises afterwards.

Sighing, he hopped out of the tub and rinsed off at a nearby shower. Add on the fogginess from his hot, delicious bath and minus the presence of his glasses, Harry ended up making his way over to the long bathroom counter with some difficulty. Fortunately, he could make out the shiny gold of the mirror frame directly across from him in a matter of minutes. He reached out automatically and cleared a portion of the mirror with his hand, only to be greeted by a horrified gasp from his reflection.

"Oh...dear..." the mirror murmured sympathetically.

Harry's brows furrowed in confusion. "What? What's wrong?" With his poor eyesight, all he could see was the obscure fog and a flesh-colored blur that was actually himself.

"I think you'd better see for yourself, boy."

Puzzled, Harry's fingers sought out for his spectacles. He raised them to his eyes and saw...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"

Down the hall and three rooms down, Draco Malfoy woke up with a grin.

A/N: YAY! After months of re-writing, re-editing, and re-re-writing, I'm finally posting up the LOOOOOOOONG overdue chapter of Trippin. This chapter was supposed to be up on Christmas break, but I was just not happy with what I had. Not happy at all. But I'm definitely happy with this one! Especially that little cliffy at the end. (Any thoughts on why Harry screamed bloody murder like that?) On a lighter note, thank you so much for those of you who reviewed! You guys rock! I was about to give up on this story because of school and my impending writer's block, but your reviews kept me going!

Until next time,

T