Here's the next update! Sorry for the long delay, real-life sucks the big time, eh?
My eternal thanks to the hardest-working beta in the world, Dragyn. Read and review - we authors like them. Please?
May 30, 1998
Somewhere over the Arctic Ocean
Once they were safely in the air, the four began passing the time much like they would on the Hogwarts Express - except, of course, that the interior of a very expensive business jet was infinitely more comfortable than the train ever could be.
The moment the pilots told them it was safe to unbuckle their seat belts, Harry and Ginny immediately decided to unfold the back couches forming the widest and biggest bed any of them had ever seen. It was big enough to accommodate all four of them though, at the moment, only Harry and Ginny were on it - Ron and Hermione were both engaged in a game of wizard chess.
That one game turned into a seven-game series. Hermione proved to be the stiffest competition Ron had ever seen, but in the end he prevailed taking four games to three. Ron blamed at least one of his losses on Ginny, who had chosen that moment to discreetly snog Harry in the giant bed in his line of sight.
After that Hermione had settled down to read Hogwarts, a History while Ron, Ginny and Harry started a game of Exploding Snap. Harry, however, had never learned to play particularly well and soon settled in for his own bit of reading: the notes on the Marauder's Map.
All four of the Marauders clearly had a hand in it, since the notes were written by four different people. The magic in the notes was quite sophisticated, and from what he knew of Location Spells, N.E.W.T.-level at least. However, Harry was sufficiently confident in his own magical abilities that he felt he could recreate the gist of the map if he wanted to. I ought to make a version of the map for the Burrow, Harry thought, so Ron and Hermione won't walk in on Ginny and me again.
Harry idly thought back to the day before they had found out about Hermione's parents. Harry and Ginny had been in the broomshed in the middle of a rather fiery snog when the door suddenly opened. Harry, who had been leaning against the door, had fallen out rather awkwardly. His glasses had also fallen off, but he managed to see that Hermione had been the culprit with Ron right in tow behind her. It was obvious that they wanted the broomshed for the same reasons that Harry and Ginny did. No one had been able to look anyone else in the eye at dinner that night.
Eventually, everyone on the plane decided to have dinner. Ron and Ginny took the opportunity to try out fizzy drinks. Ginny thought they were far too sweet, and Ron would only say they were better than that "cappuccino rubbish." Neither would give up butterbeer for it, and Hermione thought it was just as well.
"At least butterbeer doesn't ruin the teeth like fizzy drinks do," she said. "I never liked them much myself."
She sighed at the thought of her parents, and what they would have thought of fizzy drinks. "I do hope they're okay. I mean, they knew I would modify their memories, it was actually their idea, but still..."
No one was sure how to respond. After dinner they all went to bed, with Ron and Hermione taking the sleeping area in the back and Harry and Ginny taking the one in the middle.
The plane landed briefly in Tokyo to refuel, and soon it was back over the Pacific. Everyone felt sleepy, but Hermione had figured out that the best way to adjust to Sydney time was to keep awake, so they would be sleepy by bedtime in Australia. They passed the time much like they had the first leg - Harry and Ginny were playing some more wizard chess, while Ron and Hermione discreetly snogged in the back area.
Ginny made noises that rather sounded like 'hypocrite.' When Hermione heard this, she dragged Ron off to the lavatory and locked it behind her. This didn't stop Ginny, who took the wrapper of a Chocolate Frog and threw it at the door. It sailed harmlessly away.
"She put an Imperturbable Charm on the door," Ginny said. "Oh, they're incorrigible. They're worse than we are, Harry." She winked rather suggestively at the last point.
Harry decided, then and there, that while Ron and Hermione were his two best friends, he was not going to let them get the better of him when it came to that.
By some miracle, they all managed to make themselves decent as their plane descended towards Sydney. Soon they were safely on the ground, and while Ginny, Ron and Hermione were gathering their bags Harry thanked their flight crew.
"Don't mention it," Bob said. "you've been pretty easy passengers. We've had to fly some real prats in there - shame I can't tell you. You'll probably fly back the same way, right?" Harry nodded. "Maybe we'll meet again then. Take care of yourself, Harry."
Harry shook hands with the pilots before getting off the airplane. He saw Hermione talking with someone in a rather severe suit at the bottom of the stairs and Ron and Ginny taking in their surroundings.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," the man in the severe suit said, "Roger Irwin, International Magical Cooperation Office. Minister Norton has instructed that you be given all possible cooperation."
"Uh, thanks," Harry said, not quite sure how to respond. Fortunately, Roger saved him from having to reply.
"These two will be your escorts while you're in Australia," he said, pointing towards two men dressed far more casually. They had both mastered the art of dressing like Muggles.
"Arnold McKinley," the older one said. "This here's James Sawyer. We're both Aurors with the Ministry over here. No reason for any trouble, but we're not taking any chances. You've been booked into a suite at a nearby Muggle hotel, and they were nice enough to send a car over."
The 'car' turned out to be another comfortable stretch limousine. I could get used to this, Harry thought with a grin. Ginny fell asleep against his shoulder, while Ron was whispering reassurances to Hermione, who was looking out the windows aimlessly.
Thankfully, the traffic was not too heavy and it wasn't long before they arrived at the hotel. Harry stayed behind at the lobby to handle their check-in while Ron, Hermione and Ginny proceeded to their suite. It was about fifteen minutes before Harry got in the elevator ready to catch some sleep.
He fully expected that he'd have to share a room with Ron like they usually did at the Burrow, but what he found surprised him. Arnold was reading the local Wizarding newspaper in the sitting room and pointed him to his room - and there instead of Ron he found Ginny.
There were worse ways to spend a night in a foreign city, Harry decided.
An Australian Obliviator visited the hotel the following morning. Before they could restore the memories of the Grangers he needed to find out exactly what Hermione had done.
"Memory modification is, in itself, not easy," he had said, "but memory restoration is much more difficult. One must know the circumstances of when the spell was performed, the memories that have been modified, everything. Try not to leave anything out."
Hermione just nodded in response, and began telling the Obliviator the whole tale. This was something that the quartet had discussed on the flight over, while under the protection of a Muffliato.
Hermione had been keeping her parents well-informed about all the goings-on at Hogwarts, so they understood the threat Voldemort had posed - Probably more than many wizards, Harry wryly thought. Neither of them had been surprised when Hermione told them her plans for what was supposed to be her seventh year. Her mother had not understood at first, but her father did. He had served in the Royal Navy, and understood more than he wanted to.
Whatever their feelings about Hermione's plans, her parents recognized that they would be in grave danger. Her mother provided the destination: a cousin lived in Australia, and from what she had been told it was a reasonably good place to live in. It was Hermione who had suggested both the false names and wiping their memories - something that had initially not gone down well, but in the end her parents conceded.
It took a week for all the preparations to be completed. Pictures, letters, anything with a sign that there was such a person named Hermione Granger were placed into a trunk and buried in the backyard. Eventually, the only thing left to do was to modify their memories.
"I wish I didn't have to do this," Hermione said.
"I know you don't, sweetheart," her father replied, "but life's never fair. You've got to do what you've got to do."
"Good luck, Hermione," her mother whispered. "We'll see you soon." Those were her parents' last words before she put them under and cast the Memory Charm on them.
Back in the Sydney hotel room, Hermione was quietly composing herself. The Obliviator had been quiet since Hermione had finished her narration, and there was an uncomfortable silence that went on for several moments.
"Ms. Granger," the Obliviator finally said, "I should be able to reverse the Memory Charm with no adverse effects. I suppose you want to do it as soon as possible, so I suggest we do it later today. Let's say... six in the evening or so. I'll arrange a Portkey to take you there. They should be home by that time, so we'll have all night if we need it."
Hermione nodded and the Obliviator left the room. Ginny took it upon herself to lighten up the atmosphere. "Why don't we take a look around Sydney? According to this," she said as she held up a copy of A Magical Guide to Australia, "there's plenty of places to see around here."
"That book's rubbish," James said. "We know just about every corner of this city, both magical and Muggle. If we ever retired from being Aurors, we'd make ourselves a nice little pile, wouldn't we, Arnie?"
The other Auror chuckled. "Sure, James. It's not like being an Auror brings in the Galleons, mate. Seriously, though, we know this city inside out. How'd you like the two galleon tour?"
"We'll take it," Ron said. "What the bloody hell are we waiting for?"
There was no word to describe their two Auror guards other than 'cool', everyone agreed. The places they visited were definitely not on the beaten track, but everyone liked it that way. After a day spent exploring the city, they found themselves back in their hotel suite ordering up room service. In the middle of their meal, an owl arrived with their Portkey and a letter that came from the Australian Ministry of Magic.
The Portkey will take you to a park not far from where the Grangers currently live. I'll be waiting there for you with Michael Howard, the Obliviator assigned to the case.
- Stan
"Who's Stan?" Harry asked.
"Stan's Stanley Jeffries. He's our boss. Nice bloke to work for, actually. Has a lively sense of humor," Arnold said. "Not a day over forty, but I reckon he's one of the best out there. Brilliant at posing as a Muggle, too."
"That reminds me," Ron said, "how come lots of wizards here dress up as Muggles? I mean, we were visiting the local equivalent of our Diagon Alley, and half of the people weren't in robes. Is there something we should know?"
"Oh, that," Arnold said. "We do things a little differently here down under. We're not big on formality here and, for most people, robes are part of that. Besides, robes can be a tad uncomfortable out in the middle of the Outback."
"That's true," his partner said. He told everyone the story of their first field assignment, which had taken them to a rather distant corner of Australia. "That's the life of an Auror, mate. Didn't the papers say you want to become one?"
"Uh, yeah," Harry said.
"I would have thought that after seven years you'd have enough of dealing with dark wizards," Arnold said. "Still, I'm sure you'll make a good one. From everything the papers write about you, you've got good instincts. Merlin knows if you didn't have them, we wouldn't be talking now, would we?"
"I wasn't the only one out there, they-" Harry waved towards Ron, Hermione and Ginny - "did their part too. I wouldn't be here without them."
"Same way out in the field," James said. "Arnie's here saved my rear quite a few times, and I've done the same for him. Like he said, you'll do well. Better than that chap Dawlish, at any rate."
"You knew Dawlish?" Harry asked.
"You don't sound too impressed with him," Arnie said.
"Well, he always was something of a prat," Ron said. "I mean, most of the time he was going after the good guys, wasn't he? Harry, Dumbledore, Muggle-borns, Neville's grandmum - for an Auror, he sure seemed to be confused who were the good guys, wasn't he?"
"We actually met him about... ten years ago, I think. The guy he was pursuing fled here," James said. "Behaved like he was the bloody Minister himself. Thank Merlin we caught him quickly, otherwise I'd have hexed him myself." Everyone laughed, and the image of Dawlish fleeing from a cloud of flying bogies could not help but plant itself in Harry's mind.
Soon it was almost time for the Portkey to activate. They all reached out to touch it and felt the familiar motion of a hook behind their navel, which took them into the darkness.