Intermezzo:
19th July, 1999
TULLAMARINE AIRPORT, MELBOURNE, VIC
With their luggage checked in, they waited by the gates, each immersed in their own diversions. There was quite some time to kill.
Hermione was reading a John Grisham novel that she had picked off the airport bookshop bestseller rack. Mum was reading the latest edition of the Australian Dental Journal, and dad had his headphones on.
Then it was time for them to board.
The last time Hermione had been on a plane was the summer before third year.
This flight was a mere hour and a half, and Hermione looked out of the window the whole time, watching the world turn into a relief map. Clouds, large and sheer, floated past like ghost ships.
20th July, 1999
SYDNEY, NSW
After breakfast, they took a slow walk from their hotel to the harbour bridge, which looked like an enormous steel rainbow stretching across the sky. They climbed up and stared out at the view.
Here was a city in the day time: Bright blue cloudless sky above, bright blue rippling water below, and building after building after building in the middle. The colour of each façade was crisp and clear. Cars rushed by behind her. The land was dotted with green, the water was dotted with boats, ships, yachts... orbiting the gleaming white, shark-fin shells of the opera house.
Hermione felt a surge of optimism, like a solid shot in the arm. Excitement for the week ahead mingled with the joy that had been simmering inside her for days.
They took a guided tour of the opera house, and then ran to hop into a boat to watch whales leap out of water.
They spent considerable time in the recently opened Museum of Sydney. In the evening, spruced up, they returned to the opera house to watch The Australian Ballet perform an energetic, comedic rendition of The Three Musketeers.
They dined on glazed lamb at a rooftop restaurant.
21st JULY, 1999
SYDNEY, NSW
They went up Sydney Tower to observe the panoramic view.
At The Central Plaza, they had lunch and a small argument when mum spotted a beautiful (expensive!) black dress that she simply had to buy for Hermione.
Dad then decided he wanted to go surfing, which was apparently something he actually enjoyed. Hermione and mum, (friends again, and new black dress in tow,) went to see an aboriginal art exhibition.
For dinner, they took a cruise: A splendid six course meal, while slowly meandering across the harbour, as the city lit up.
22nd July, 1999
SYDNEY, NSW
That morning, they collected the car dad had rented. He took the first driving shift, after unnecessarily terrifying Hermione by jangling the keys in front of her face, as though he expected her to competently drive through a busy, hustling city.
Traffic slowed them initially. Mum took a nap and Hermione read her Grisham novel – The Testament. The radio spat out cricket commentary, as England and New Zealand met for a test match at Lord's.
Then they broke out into the countryside, and the terrain turned beautiful. Hermione put her book away, and mum woke up. Greenery abounded, with the Pacific popping in and out of view. Suddenly they were in a forest, suddenly a town, suddenly on a road bang on the coast, driving on till they reached –
NELSON BAY, PORT STEPHENS, NSW
They had a bite to eat at a restaurant that was once a lighthouse-keeper's cottage, followed by a quick boat ride to watch dolphins skim gracefully over the bay.
For the next stretch of driving, mum took over. The sea accompanied them all through, winking and twinkling and blue. The urge for tea had just about peaked when they rolled into –
PORT MACQUARIE, NSW
They took tea in a club at Nobbys beach, watching families with children frolic around the rocky beach. The water was astonishingly blue, until it threw out a streak of astonishing green, and then both colours blended, beautifully.
They walked for a long time along the shore, past bouldering, moss-covered rocks, till they got to the largest of all rocks: The thirty-metre-tall headland called Nobby Head.
So many of her friends would have much to say about that, Hermione thought. Not only had the colonists taken over aboriginal land... they had decided to give it that name.
They passed a small monument to a man who had tragically drowned while attempting to save the life of his friend... And they remained there, as the sun performed the most vibrant part of its setting process. Then, before the last bit of light disappeared, they walked back to the car, stopped briefly at a petrol station, and then drove to a nearby holiday park at the bank of the Hastings River, where they'd booked a cabin for the night.
23rd July, 1999
PORT MACQUARIE, NSW
AT the crack of dawn, in sturdy walking shoes and warm jackets, they hiked along the Googik heritage walk in Lake Innes Nature reserve.
They arrived at an area replete with brick-and-mortar ruins, where they met a guide who told them about the history of the once-elaborate estate, built by unpaid convicts and indigenous folk.
...Maybe Abel Magwitch had been one of them...
Quick as a flash, Hermione had a pen and notebook out, and she barraged (dad's word, not hers,) the somewhat staggered guide with questions about the Slave Trade Act of 1807, and the Slave Abolition Act of 1833.
They had breakfast at the reserve café.
Dad insisted on going kayaking, and Hermione cast a secret stabilising charm on the canoe.
Next, they went to Cassegrain Wines, a sprawling compound with a winery, cellar, fields, and rose gardens. Hermione walked slowly behind mum and dad as they traversed down a path cutting through laden grapevines.
She had looped her arm through his and set her chin on his shoulder as she listened to him talk. He said something funny, so she laughed and turned to face ahead. He kissed her temple. Hermione smiled at the back of their heads; his loose, bountiful curls and her soft, elegant pixie-cut.
They saw the wine-making machinery, and went into the cellar to sample the collection.
Mum and Dad bought a case of assorted wine. Hermione bought one bottle of Pinot Noir and one of Reisling, feeling very grown up and self-conscious.
They ate French food at the restaurant, and drank some more wine. Finally, they took an ambulatory walk through the gorgeous gardens. Once again, Hermione hung back and let her parents be with each other for a bit.
How could she, the child of such a healthy, loving, supportive marriage, be so unequivocally shit at relationships?
24th July, 1999
Back in the car, dad took the wheel, put on Jethro Tull... and they were off again. Hermione fell asleep to Mother Goose.
As I did walk by Hampstead Fair
I came upon Mother Goose
So, I turned her loose
She was screaming
And a foreign student said to me –
"Is it really true, there are elephants and lions too, in Picadilly Circus?"
"It isn't actually a circus, Draco," she said, rolling her eyes.
He looked unconvinced and unimpressed and licked ice cream off his spoon.
"Then why is it called a circus?"
"It's Latin. Circus means circle."
"How very stupid and pretentious," he drawled.
"Your name is Latin, too," she reminded him haughtily.
"Ah, but Granger," he leaned closer and grinned, "I actually am a dragon."
He actually was a dragon, and she was sitting atop of him, soaring over astonishing bluegreen water like Theo's scarf, and Theo screamed into her ear about Helsinki. Harry grinned and Ron's bright hair turned into the rising sun.
She woke up and picked up her The Testament once again. Cricket was back on the radio. She read until mum called out her name, as dad was parking under the shade of a large gum tree.
COFF'S HARBOUR, NSW
They had coffee at a shack/cafeteria in the middle of a banana plantation. At the next table was a very, very old woman with sharp eyes and leathery skin, and she spend much too long giving Hermione knowing looks. Eventually, she came and sat at their table, and told them stories and legends from the area that led back to the Gumbaynggirr nation.
They drove to Coff's Harbour marina, and then disembarked to walk up the steep track to Muttonbird Island.
There were, unfortunately, no actual muttonbirds – that is, wedge-tailed shearwaters – to be seen, as they had migrated to the tropics seeking warmer weather. But their empty nests – delicate open burrows in the earth surrounding the path – remained.
At the edge of the walkway was a platform, perched atop rocks that had weathered centuries of lashings from thunderous waves. They stood at this look out and the panorama engulfed them, breathlessly wide and endlessly deep. The world stretched on forever, acre after acre of lush hills and jagged rocks and blue water. Cities expanded over boundless terrain. The sky had no limit.
It was once again time to hit the road. They picked up some packets of crisps from a grocery shop and set off: An amusement park to the left of them, and virescent waves to the right. She fell asleep once more, and woke up after another half hour, feeling amazingly refreshed. The car was entering a sparkling emerald forested area. Dad called it Bundjalung National Park and let Hermione drive for a bit.
With the road fairly straight and empty, she did just fine. They rolled all the windows down and let the icy and vivifying air in.
Once they'd cleared the park, mum took over. She listened to Hermione's half-baked ideas about slave abolition laws and House-Elves and where the twain could meet. Dad was stretched out on the back seat.
Moments away from dusk, they arrived at –
BYRON BAY, NSW
From Clarke's Beach, they sat on the sand and watched the sun set over the hinterland rainforest. The world flared with tawny hues; roaring waves of honey and syrup, huge rocky crags of solidified amber.
Mum grasped a handful of Hermione's hair and said that it looked like polished bronze.
The sand, the ground, the land that was named after the grandfather of Lord Byron... was golden.
They shared a seafood platter for dinner, with another spectacular night-time seascape in front of them. Hermione wondered how she'd ever be able to eat again without the roar of waves, and the smell of sea breeze.
For the night, they'd booked rooms at a motel, once again by the sea. Her room was small; white walls, beige curtains, and coastal furniture. She sat by her window and looked into the inky night, at the way moonlight laced the edge of slow-moving waves with a silver trim.
And in the near-distance, high on a bald, lithic headland, was Cape Byron Lighthouse. Its flare was blindingly fulgent, and it arced round and around, over murky waters.
Searching... and wanting to be found. Over and over again. Please, see my beacon.
25th July, 1999
MINYON FALLS, NORTHERN RIVERS, NSW
After once again, setting out in the early hours of the morning, they took a detour to see water, from a creek called 'Repentance', plunge down from a height of a hundred metres.
They walked for an hour through a rainforest full of enormous eucalyptus trees with sickle shaped leaves and pallid trunks. They spotted a kookaburra, a family of possums, and a vibrant tree frog.
They sipped tea from flasks, watching shimmering froth race down rocks that looked like chunks of charcoal, streaked with moss green, and sun-bleached yellow. Shivering slightly, they sat close enough for a gentle spray to drizzle around them.
It was one of those moments in which Hermione felt inexorably connected to the macrocosm – to the earth and water and verdure.
It was all matter, and so was she. She dipped her finger into the sticky, clayey soil by her shoe and carved her name into it. She had no doubt that the swelling plunge pool would wash it away in no time.
The walk back to the car was furiously fast, urged by dad's frenzied need to catch the final innings. Mum drove, and he sat on the edge of his seat, sporadically yelling at the stereo.
Over a lovely breakfast at a Farmer's Market in Mullumbimby, England lost to New Zealand by nine wickets. Mum was salivating over the cheeses available at the market. It was a moment thick with the absurd, contrary nature of life: Her parents were Thalia and Melpomene masks.
Mum took over driving for the rest of the day, and soon enough, they were all but grazing the coast. It was the most beautiful course, and windows rolled down, they played and sang along with the reliable old fab four, till even dad could no longer remain in a huff.
Finally, a few patches of thick traffic later, they stopped the car in the vivacious –
GOLD COAST, QLD
Their hotel was quite close to Surfer's Paradise Beach, and no sooner did they put down their bags, than dad bolted, eager to, well... surf.
Hermione and mum watched him for a bit, but then wandered over to the massive shopping centre opposite the beach. Hermione bought a few formal blouses, skirts and well fitted trousers, because she would have need for them shortly, as well as birthday gifts for Harry and Ginny.
They deposited their loot at the hotel and met up with dad, who led them to sea world. Two rides and one show later, they convinced him to leave. Mum led them to The Gold Coast Arts Centre, where they first stopped at the café for a cuppa, and then they wandered through an exhibit.
Finally, dad advertised his desperate need for sustenance, and ushered them into a pub that had been highly recommended by a patient of his.
The pub turned out to be more of a nightclub.
It was dark. Lasers and strobe lights arced around the room – not searching like a lighthouse, but luring you in. The music, with a distinct Spanish flavour, was thunderous, and a large flashing dancefloor was packed with people caught in a haze of rapture, living 'La Vida Loca', apparently.
Mum was not happy AT ALL. And Hermione knew that dad, once he stopped inhaling his mediocre (because honestly, that was not what that place was about) food, wouldn't be happy either.
It reminded her of Seamus' New Year Party, and, for the first time, she wished she was here with her friends, rather than her parents.
There was a couple at the next table. The woman was wearing a very low-cut top, and she nestled a shot glass in her cleavage. The man dived right in. Hermione took a deep breath and looked away... looked at the slow horror dawning on dad's face as he finally noticed where they were.
They escaped to their hotel and Hermione was tucked in her bed at a very reasonable hour. She lay on her stomach and tried very hard to stop thinking about how badly she wanted to get shagged.
26th July, 1999
GOLD COAST, QLD
It rained that morning, so they had a very lazy start to the day, wherein dad took full advantage of the hotel's breakfast buffet, and Hermione took full advantage of the hotel's indoor pool. Her four-year-old swimsuit was a conservative blue one-piece, nothing like what the other young women had on.
At noon, it was raining still. Hermione and her parents sat in the hotel lobby, surrounded by their luggage, waiting for it to abate... which it did, in time, though the sky remained overcast.
Their destination drew them away from the coast. Hermione pressed her nose against the window, to catch a glimpse of the Coral Sea receding into the distance. It was pearly and steel blue and greygreen, looking completely flat and opaque under a thick canopy of tufty black clouds.
Once they'd cleared the main metropolitan, Hermione drove again for a bit, through an area thick with vegetation.
They stopped at Yatala to fill petrol, and to sample the fare from a very famous pie shop. They ate outside, as there was no room inside the small parlour. Mum and dad claimed a bench, looking, once again, at each other in a certain way that propelled Hermione to leave them be. She hopped onto the bonnet of the car, tucking into a steaming steak and kidney pie.
All the heavier, sooty clouds had absconded, save for one line across the middle of the sky. Pale sunlight was bursting out from behind them, through whatever little gap it could find. This thin and sallow light diffused across the welkin, brightening up the grey so it glowed. It was a luminous grey, a margaric grey. Grey like moonstones, grey like backlit smoke, grey like a pair of eyes that could decimate all semblance of equanimity.
After that, they drove on for about an hour more, and building and traffic density kept rapidly increasing. It wasn't long before they were bang in the central area of the busy, bustling capital city of –
BRISBANE, QLD
It was nearing four in the evening, and mum insisted they go straight to the Botanic Gardens, that would close at five. They raced through a beautiful serene Japanese garden, the lagoon and bamboo grove, and the fragrant herb garden. They caught their breath under the massive tropical dome.
Their hotel was close to the Brisbane River and Kangaroo Point Cliffs, so they took a stroll after checking-in. As the day waned, they saw rock climbing enthusiasts put away their equipment. The park was full of joggers and skaters and young children reluctant to stop their play and return home.
They walked down a long road, till they reached the massive steel structure of Story Bridge and climbed on top.
Here was a city in the evening: The bridge was lit up with purple lights and the end of dawn was deep violet, giving the whole scene an electric, cyberpunk feel. Buildings all along the riverside were basically just patchworks of light, and the still, glassy river reflected it all. The effect was dazzling.
Hermione felt hollow. It was sudden and inexplicable and overwhelming. And along with that feeling of almost existential displacement, came the awareness that it was the second to last night of their trip. In four days, she'd be back in England. A lump appeared in her throat as she kept staring and staring in front of her.
She was jarred out of her reverie when dad called out to her – he and mum had moved on ahead. They argued playfully about what they ought to have for dinner. Hermione stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked along silently.
27th July, 1999
BRISBANE, QLD
Dad woke her up while it was still dark outside. He told her that it didn't matter that it wasn't Saturday; they were going for a walk.
It was 5 AM. Hermione let out a series of tormented groans as she got dressed to leave.
A ten minute drive brought them to a picnic ground. It was dark, but Hermione could hear running water somewhere in the distance. Dad took out a torch and Hermione made do with lumos. They set off on a steep uphill path. At some point, they crossed a quiet lagoon.
For forty minutes they hiked on and on, up the thin trail flanked by forested land. The sky became one shade lighter, and one or two birds stirred to greet the day.
Their journey's end was Mount Coot-tha summit. Hermione put out her wand and walked with dad to a concrete platform and from there they watched a most incredible sunrise.
Going downhill was much easier.
After a shower, she reunited with her parents over breakfast. At eight-thirty, dad bundled them back into the car, and he commenced the four hour drive to Bundaberg Rum distillery with such enthusiasm that Hermione suspected this may have been the reason behind the whole trip. But since they were, once again, driving along the coast, Hermione didn't mind too much.
On arriving, they went through a museum, (of rum; yes, really,) and got a tour of the distillery, which led to the most fun bit: Tasting. Mum abstained as she would be driving back.
At the end of the excursion, dad bought something close to a dozen varieties of rum and liqueur. When Hermione gave him a look, he said he was curating a collection. Hermione bought six bottles, as gifts for her friends.
Another five hours later – owing to traffic – with a boot full of booze, they were back in Brisbane. Dad fell asleep halfway through, and on reaching the hotel, bid Hermione and mum farewell, and went to bed.
The remaining two sat by the river bank with tiny paper cups of coffee. Mum took hold of Hermione's hand.
["I won't ever understand how you could do it. I can't fathom how it was the only possible way to – Hmph. But anyway. I do understand you well enough to know how excruciating it must have been to do it, and how excruciating it must have been to undo it. But you did it, both times. And Hermione... if I can't forgive you, who can I forgive?"]
28th July, 1999
BRISBANE, QLD
They went to Australia Zoo, which, Hermione learnt, was run by the convivial, khaki-wearing blond man she'd seen on the telly. Steve Irwin, his name was.
The man himself stood by a clear pool full of crocodiles, talking into a microphone. Dad had to drag Hermione away.
It was a rather good time. Mum and Hermione had raptures cooing at and petting koalas. They fed kangaroos and giraffes. They saw scores of incredible, colourful birds and snakes, and animals from across the globe.
They ate at the café and then returned to the city to make a quick trip to Queensland Art Gallery. It was much too big and time was much too short, but they made the best of it.
By six, they were back in the hotel and packing up. By quarter to eight they were at –
BRISBANE AIRPORT, QLD
They'd had a very frantic hour, barely making it past the gates before they closed.
It took two and a half hours to get back to Melbourne, and Hermione was, again, glued to the window. She stared at circuit board cities and, eventually, at her own reflection in the pitch-black pane. She had to look at herself to remind herself that she was still herself; the past eight days had felt like a slice of someone else's life.
It was quarter past one at night –
29th July, 1999
When mum put a key through the padlock on the front door of their home in –
MENTONE, VICTORIA
Hermione went to her room, stripped, and had a long, hot shower.