Hermione sighed as she neatly put her things away in her room after having just arrived home from Hogwarts. She was immensely happy to be back with her parents, the previous year making her miss them all the more, but that didn't change the fact that it didn't feel right to leave Harry alone after he'd just had to endure Sirius' death.
She would write him as much as possible, of course. She'd learned her lesson from last summer about isolating her friend after a traumatic event. He was already constantly stressed, and she needed to support him as much as possible.
She'd discussed the situation with Ron, and they'd both agreed that they'd ignore the Order when it came to contact with Harry if they had to. They wouldn't be stupid about sharing information, but leaving Harry alone with people he hated was not something either of them would be willing to tolerate now.
Honestly, sometimes she could believe the rumors that Dumbledore had gone senile. While his actions were somewhat valid from a security standpoint, he was practically pushing Harry towards the edge himself.
Thinking about Harry's family circumstances brought to mind her own. She loved her parents, but she couldn't deny that they'd been drifting apart. And she could begrudgingly admit it was mostly her fault.
Boarding school was hardly conducive to keeping in touch properly, but a boarding school the parents couldn't visit or reach their child at easily was even worse. It used to be that her family would spend those few months of summer on holiday wherever they could, simply being together and making memories. She'd especially enjoyed their journeys into the rest of Europe. But over the years she'd begun to spend more of that time in the wizarding world, staying with the Weasleys or at Grimmould place. They may not say anything, but Hermione knew her parents were afraid they were losing her for good. Especially considering how evasive she was about the things going on in her life.
What was she supposed to do, however? Tell her nice, normal parents that their daughter had embroiled herself into a civil war with a bunch of supremacists that saw her the same way the Nazis had viewed the Jews? She'd find herself living in Australia within the week. And she absolutely refused to run away, to let Harry and Ron face Voldemort and his Death Eaters on their own.
So she kept her silence even as the guilt increased each time she had to lie to her parents, who only wanted to be part of her life. She kept promising to herself that she'd make it up to them when everything was over and Voldemort was defeated. She'd take them on a world tour, visiting magical and mundane sights, showing them the wonders of both worlds.
She told herself that, but it didn't make the guilt go away.
She looked up in surprise as a tapping came from her window, wondering who could be sending her a letter already. She was especially surprised when she found Hedwig sitting on the windowsill, waiting to be let in.
Hermione was confused, as Harry never sent letters so soon. He generally waited a day to settle in before sending his first. Hoping that everything was alright she opened the window, letting the beautiful snowy owl alight on the perch she'd bought for any visiting post birds.
"Hello Hedwig. I'm sorry, I don't have any food or treats ready." The bushy haired witch said as she approached to relieve the bird of her burden. She stopped in surprise when she saw that Hedwig did not have any letters on her. "What the…?" She murmured before being interrupted by her father calling up the stairs.
"Hermione, you have a phone call!" She heard him say.
"Coming!" She called back as she gave Hedwig one last look before moving toward the door. As she did so she couldn't help but wonder who could be calling her. She didn't have any mundane friends, and her extended family was small.
Taking the handset from her father with a thankful smile she brought it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Hello Hermione." Harry's familiar voice said.
"Harry?" She said with confused happiness. "What's going on? You've never phoned me before, and Hedwig just arrived without a letter. Is everything alright?"
She heard Harry let out a sigh. "So she got there. Good." Then he paused, and just as she was about to prompt him to continue he dropped the bombshell on her. "I'm currently on my way out of the country, Mione, so please take care of her."
Hermione swore her heart stopped in shock. "W-what?"
"I'm leaving the UK for the summer." He said calmly.
"Harry, no! It's not safe!" She said frantically, vaguely aware that her parents were watching from the doorway to the sitting room.
"I'll be fine, Mione." He said soothingly. "You don't have to worry. The odds of me running into Death Eaters are low, and I have plenty of money on me."
"Where are you even going?" She asked as she clutched the handset in a death grip.
She heard him huff a laugh. "I'm not dumb enough to tell you that, you know. You'd have the Order combing the place for me within the hour." She heard him sigh, and could practically see him running his fingers through his messy hair. "If it will keep you from worrying I will say that I'm heading somewhere that I can speak the language." He gave a slight chuckle. "I'm kinda nervous about flying the mundane way, but also looking forward to it, you know?"
Hermione immediately began to mentally list what English speaking countries her brother in all but blood could be going to. It was quite a wide selection, if he was travelling by plane. "Harry, you don't know the first thing about international travel."
"I'm a quick study when it's something I actually need to learn." He said with amusement, which she grudgingly agreed with. "Besides, I always did want to see more than just a bit of Britain a small area of Scotland."
"You are planning to come back in time for the next school year, of course?" She asked with a dangerous edge to her voice.
Another small laugh. "Wouldn't miss it. I just wanted a better holiday than sitting in Durzkaban for the rest of the summer." He went silent for a moment before speaking a bit more quietly. "I couldn't handle being there after… everything."
Hermione felt her heart clench at the way he said the words. "We could have worked something out, Harry." She said gently. "You could have come and visited me instead. You didn't have to do this."
He was silent for a long moment. "Yeah, I kinda did, Hermione." He perked up after that. "Don't worry though, I'll call you every once in a while to let you know I'm doing alright. You'll no doubt pass it along to the Order, so it'll save me from writing those letters Moody demanded."
She sighed, knowing that there was nothing else she could say to convince him to change his mind. "You better call me at least every other day." She said sternly.
"I will." He assured her. "And don't worry, I'll make sure to get plenty of souvenirs."
"That's not what I'm worrying about at the moment, Harry." She groused.
"Really? So I shouldn't keep an eye out for interesting books full of magic not taught in the UK?" He teased.
Hermione bit her lip. "Well… Maybe one or two?"
He chuckled. "I figured." He paused briefly. "Alright, I should get off the phone. I have an interesting book to read, and you're no doubt itching to go write the Order to let them know I left and have them look for me."
She blushed slightly. "Alright Harry. I'll be expecting your call in two days."
"You'll get it." He assured her. "Bye."
"Bye." She said before pulling the handset away from her ear once the tone sounded, staring at it briefly before turning it off.
"Hermione?" Her mother asked, worried.
As though that had been the signal she'd been waiting for the bushy haired witch tore upstairs, immediately grabbing her writing utensils once she reached her room, beginning to hurriedly write a letter to Dumbledore.
"Hermione, what's wrong?" Ophelia Granger asked as she entered her daughter's room, her husband, Christopher, peering in behind her.
Hermione slowed her writing, biting her lip, wondering what to say. Finally she decided that most of the truth, with a few omissions, should be good enough. Turning to them she began explaining. "It's Harry…"
"We figured as much." Christopher said slightly sardonically only to get elbowed by his wife.
"Right. Well, less than a month ago his godfather died. Sirius was the only real family Harry had." Hermione said softly. "He lives with his aunt and uncle, but from what I know they don't… get along…"
Ophelia and Christopher glanced at each other darkly. They may be dentists, but as medical professionals they had still been given training involving potential abuse. Still, they didn't say anything, letting their daughter continue.
"Harry called to say he's leaving the country, but it's dangerous, so I need to write to Professor Dumbledore so he can be brought back." Hermione explained before turning back to the letter.
"Why is it so dangerous for him to travel?" Ophelia asked. "Besides the fact that he's an unaccompanied minor?"
Hermione froze. That was a question she'd hoped wouldn't be asked. Her mind raced as she tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't trigger her parents' overprotective reactions.
The fact that wanting to get your teenage daughter out of a warzone was in no way overprotective was lost on her. Years of dangerous situations and association with Harry Potter had skewed her perspective on danger more than a bit.
"Harry's godfather was murdered by someone with a grudge against Harry's family." She finally decided to say. "He's likely still after Harry. His relatives' house has magical protections to keep him safe, but if he's out who knows where…"
"I see." Hermione's mother said. She and her husband both knew Hermione was holding something back, but they'd decided not to push just yet.
Hermione finished the letter and moved over to Hedwig. "Hedwig, would you mind taking this to Professor Dumbledore?"
The owl stared at her human's friend imperiously for a few moments before holding her leg out to have the letter attached. Hermione quickly did so, and the bird swiftly winged her way out the window, heading off to deliver her message.
Hermione slumped, sighing tiredly and rubbing her forehead. "Oh Harry, you never make things easy on me, do you?"
Ron was sitting on his bed, doing something he rarely did without outside prompting: he was studying one of his school spellbooks.
His performance in the Department of Mysteries had weighed on him ever since he was lucid enough after being attacked by those brains to understand what had happened. He was Harry's oldest friend after Hagrid, the one who'd (mostly) stuck by the other boy through thick and thin. He'd faced more dangerous situations than almost any of his peers. But even after all of that, after the training in the DA and a DaDA OWL test he was pretty sure he aced, he'd been taken out early and become more of a liability than an asset.
He glanced at the remains of the scarring the brains had left on his arms. Could things have turned out differently if he hadn't been taken out of the fight? Could Sirius still be alive? He didn't know, and it was killing him.
Ron knew he was going to wind up on the frontlines of the coming war, no matter what his mother wanted. Even if he wasn't Harry Potter's best friend, he was a member of one of the most prominent 'blood traitor' families. The battle of the Department of Mysteries had underscored that fact. One would have thought that Cedric's death would have hammered the point home, but he hadn't seen that happen in front of his eyes. Now he'd been in a high profile battle, and it had opened his eyes, making him curse himself for a fool.
Make no mistake, he still wasn't the studious type. He'd never be Hermione, and Ravenclaw would probably be the second to last house he'd be considered for. But there was a difference between studying to get good marks and studying to improve his odds of survival.
He was making a note of another spell he thought Harry should teach the DA if they reconvened next year when his mother opened the door after quickly knocking twice, a habit that annoyed the hell out of him the older he got. That was in no way enough of a warning. What if he was doing something… embarrassing… after all?
"Ron, come down to the kitchen." Molly Weasley said with a troubled look on her face. "Professor Dumbledore wants to talk to you. He brought Hermione with him."
Ron blinked, surprised at the news. They'd just gotten back from Hogwarts. What could possibly be wrong already?
Getting up he set his book aside, acting like he didn't notice his mother's raised eyebrow at the sudden studiousness. She looked over at the book, probably checking for a porno mag hidden in the pages. He remembered her catching the twins doing that once. The row that followed had been the stuff of legends.
Reaching the kitchen he stopped in his tracks when he found not just Hermione and Dumbledore, but quite a bit of the Order there as well. Feeling a sense of unease grow in his gut he took a seat between Hermione and Fred. Or George. He was too distracted to care, though he did wonder why they were there when they'd moved out and weren't actually members of the Order.
"Thank you for coming, everybody." Dumbledore said genially, though a serious glint was present in his eyes. "Less than an hour ago I received a message from Miss Granger with important news that must be acted upon immediately. This information was received alongside a report by Nymphadora which corroborated the news. Miss Granger, if you would?"
As Hermione shifted slightly under everybody's attention Ron turned to her even as he noted that Tonks hadn't bothered correcting Dumbledore on her name. The auror looked more subdued than usual, her hair brown and limp. Putting it out of his mind he focused on his friend.
"Earlier today I received a telephone call from Harry." She said, and quickly plowed on before anybody could ask what she was talking about, though Ron remembered his own disastrous attempt at using a telephone with a wince. "He said he was currently on his way out of the country."
It took a moment for what Hermione had said to register, but when it did Ron practically jumped to his feet. "He was WHAT!?" He nearly shouted.
"I take it this means you were unaware of Harry's plans, Mister Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.
Ron sat back down with a heavy thump, running his palm along his pace. "Bloody hell, Harry…"
Still, now that he'd gotten over the initial shock, Ron wasn't actually all that surprised. Harry had been more subdued than usual since the Department of Mysteries, which was understandable. He'd been becoming more and more stressed as the year went on anyway, Umbridge and the constant attacks by the Ministry driving him further and further up the wall. His only relief had been the DA, and even that had disappeared eventually.
Harry needed to destress, or he was going to snap and go full dark lord on the next person to piss him off, and Ron wouldn't blame him for doing so. He'd had far too much shite piled onto his shoulders.
He still wish he'd have gotten some warning, though.
"The boy was probably lying for attention." Snape sneered.
Dumbledore shook his head, ignoring the glares everybody was giving his spy. "Nymphadora was stationed at the house of Harry's relatives. She says they arrived without him, and even after waiting for some time he never arrived separately."
"Did he say where he was going?" Ginny asked from where she sat on Hermione's other side once everybody had let that sink in.
"All he said was that he was heading somewhere he could speak the language and that he was travelling by flying in muggle style." Hermione said. "Since there isn't a country that speaks exclusively in parseltongue, he's going to an English speaking country. The most likely places I can think of are Ireland, the United States, Canada, South Africa and Australia, though there are obviously others."
"I have contacts in several of those countries." Dumbledore said. "I'll assign whoever is available to travel to the most likely ports of entry of each location and search for Harry. We need to bring him back quickly."
"Especially as the Dark Lord has dispatched high ranking Death Eaters to various places throughout the world." Snape said as everybody was glancing at each other, wondering where they'd be sent. The group's attention was dragged back to the greasy haired potions master. "He is moving openly now that news of his return is spreading. He's using the fact that he, in his words, 'conquered death', in order to rally other magicals and dark creatures to his cause."
"If Potter runs into one of those Death Eaters, they'll capture him and bring him to their master." Moody said gruffly. "If that happens, we'll be in deep shite."
Everybody began to murmur worriedly. Dumbledore motioned for calm. "Please everybody, calm yourselves. Yes, this is worrisome, but it is simply more incentive to find Harry quickly." He turned back to Hermione. "Miss Granger, you managed to get Harry to agree to call you every two days, didn't you?"
"Yes sir." She said with a nod. "I got him to promise to call me at my home the day after tomorrow."
"Good." Dumbledore said with a nod of his own. "When he calls, please do your best to get any information as to his whereabouts you can, assuming we haven't located him by then." When Hermione nodded he turned back to the assembled Order members. "Please wait while I assign you locations to search in, please. Otherwise this meeting is adjourned."
The mass of people occupying the tiny kitchen got up and stretched, Snape leaving immediately. Ron got up and led Hermione outside into the evening light, speaking lowly. "You're sure he didn't say where he was going?"
Hermione shook her head. "No. Only those clues he gave me." She bit her lip. "You think he'll be alright?"
"This is Harry we're talking about." One of the twins said from behind them, having followed the two. "He's definitely going to get into loads of trouble."
"And he's just as definitely going to get out of it." The second twin said with a smirk. "Merlin himself wouldn't be able to kill Harry after everything he's been through."
Ginny grinned, though a trace of worry shadowed her eyes. "They're right. If Harry could make it through everything life has thrown at him so far, a small vacation isn't going to do much."
Hermione sighed and looked up at the darkening sky. "I hope you're right…"
Night had fallen, and Harry stood on the balcony of his five star hotel suite in a fluffy bathrobe after a shower, looking over the spectacle of the lights of Paris, the Eiffel Tower dominating the view.
After spending part of his trip to France watching Iron Man and the rest trying out a few games, all of which Callie recommended, Harry had been starved despite the snacks served on the train. He hadn't actually eaten anything substantial since that morning at Hogwarts.
He'd been tempted to simply go to the McDonalds near the station and grab a burger, but being in another country he forced himself to try something new. Getting in a cab and asking to be taken to a good restaurant, he'd had an excellent french meal, much different than his usual fare. Then he'd taken another cab to one of the best hotels in the city.
Originally the employees had been skeptical of him, which he found completely understandable, but once his debit card had been charged for the large amount of money they were asking for per night they were more than willing to serve his every need.
Stretching lightly Harry yawned. He glanced over at one of the suite's clocks to find that it was getting late. Wanting to have plenty of time to sightsee in the morning he quickly closed the balcony doors, put his new pajamas on, and flopped onto the excessively large and comfortable bed. He was out like a light in seconds.
Yay new chapter!
I figured that as my newest story I should post a second chapter of this before adding it to the patron poll. Especially considering the positive reception this fic has received.
So the Order is now scrambling to find Harry before the Death Eaters run into him while said chosen one arrives in France on the first step of his world tour. I think we all know where this is going.
One thing I forgot to mention in the last AN is that I'm not taking the Fantastic Beasts movies into account for this fic. I didn't really like either one (the second less than the first) and honestly don't remember much about them beyond a few scenes and creature designs. As such anything those movies revealed about the magical world outside of the UK is not going to be considered canon. I'm making up my own thing for this fic.
Not much else to say, so I'll end this note with the customary reminder that you can have a voice in what I write by donating to my Pat A Ron which is dotcom /athanmortis. Each dollar you donate gives you one vote for any of the stories up for consideration on the monthly poll. The current poll ends on the 30th, and after that a new one will be put up.
Thanks again for all your support, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Goodbye, and please review!