The journey back to The Burrow had not been a pleasant one. Hermione had point blank refused to discuss any details of Harry's trip out in the open, so they had all trudged back together in agitated silence. It seemed to take twice as long as the walk out to town, but eventually they all made it in to Ron's room, all the way up on the uppermost floor. Before the door had even closed properly, three sets of eyes were fixed intently and expectantly on Harry.
Harry didn't bother to wait for the first question to come, there was no point. He just took a deep breath, then talked for what felt like an eternity, giving an in depth account of what had happened since he had left them in the cafe. Hermione had openly smiled and exhaled deeply when Harry had mentioned Kingsley arranging the Portkey for them, but he wasn't properly interrupted until he revealed his news from Gringotts.
"Bloody Hell!" gasped Ron, a look of sheer disbelief on his face, "You've got how much?!"
His unintentional outburst earned him a reproachful, icy glare from Ginny, and a slap on the arm from Hermione. Harry was then suddenly aware of himself feeling rather awkward about the situation. He had not hesitated to tell his friends about his new found fortune, hadn't even given it a second thought, but he was now silently berating himself for not telling them another time, and in Ron's case, in a more sensitive manner. However, it was done now, nothing he could do to change that.
"There is one other thing," Harry continued, quietly, glad to have a reason to deflect the conversation away from his bank balance for the time being, "I think someone was following me."
Well, he may as well have told them Voldemort was standing right behind them, in all his former glory, for they visibly stiffened in unison, clearly immensely disturbed by his revelation.
"Oh no, Harry, that's not good, that's not good at all," Hermione whispered, instantly worked up. "What if something happened, what if you were out there on your own, and we were just sitting at a silly cafe doing nothing?"
Harry reckoned he would have bet every galleon in his Gringotts account on that being Hermione's reaction, so he couldn't help but smile to himself when he answered her. "Don't worry too much, I don't think there's any immediate danger. They had plenty of opportunity to get to me when I came out of Gringotts, I walked for five minutes in a daze, it was like I'd just been hit by a confundus charm. It would have been easy for them to act then, but nothing happened. I would still like to know who is interested in where I'm going though, even if they don't seem to be trying to kill me for once, which I suppose is a pleasant change..."
This did seem to reassure her and the others a little, but Hermione was right back onto him when she had processed exactly what he'd told her. She was far from happy. "It's all very well that nothing happened, but I certainly don't think it's a very good idea for you to make yourself easy pickings just now, Harry. You know part of the deal of going on your own was that you were going to be exceptionally careful. Walking out in the open with no idea of what is going on around you is almost as far as you could get from being exceptionally careful!" Harry was a little taken aback by that, but it turned out she wasn't finished yet. "Remember back to our fourth year at Hogwarts, Moody always used to say it was all about constant vigilance, and he was absolutely right, you could have been killed, Harry, just for dropping your guard for five minutes!"
Silence for a few seconds. Harry hadn't expected that, but he could see exactly where she was coming from. He didn't want to tell her that, just yet, in case she had more in the tank, so he looked to Ginny instead. She must have taken it as some sort of appeal for backup though, as she just shrugged. "Hermione's right, you should have been more careful." she said simply. He was glad to hear there was no trace of annoyance, in fact, she sounded almost apologetic. He nodded, turned back to Hermione, "You're right, I should have taken more care, but in fairness, I had just been given a bit of a shock in Gringotts. It threw me off guard, that's all, so I'll make sure it doesn't happen again."
"Well, what a right little bundle of joy you are, Hermione," piped in Ron, incredulously "Harry's gone out, got the Portkey, and made it back in one piece, and you're moaning that he was a bit pre-occupied after finding out he was a multi millionaire!" He rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in exasperation, as though he couldn't quite believe anyone could be quite as inconsiderate as Hermione, "If it was me," he continued, jabbing himself in the chest with his thumb to further emphasise his point, "I'd have had a bloody heart attack, right there on Gringotts floor. And, in case it slipped your mind, the Mad-Eye from our fourth year turned out to be an absolute nutter who tried to kill Harry!"
Hermione observed him icily for a moment, as if contemplating whether it was worth replying. She clearly decided against it, perhaps fully aware that it would escalate to a full blown argument, which would be no good to anyone. She turned to Harry instead, her expression softening. "I am grateful, Harry, I really am. It's just that it would have been terrible if something had happened, while you were out there risking yourself for me."
Harry nodded. End of discussion. He had to suppress a laugh as he glanced at Ron though, who was sitting with a smug look of superiority on his face, clearly under the impression he had just outwitted Hermione. Hermione, absolutely none the wiser, sat up abruptly, and suggested they all head down to see if dinner was ready. They were going to have to break the news of their trip to Australia to Mrs Weasley, and they certainly didn't want to face such a enigmatic task on empty stomachs.
Dinner did in fact turn out to be very nearly ready, so they all took their places around the table. Bill, Fluer, George and Charlie were all present, all having decided not to return home until Monday, when Harry and Ron would be starting out with the Ministry.
It had been decided between the four of them previously that Ginny would be the one to break the news to Mrs Weasley, with the general consensus being that she was much less likely to completely erupt if it came from her only daughter.
It transpired that they had been rather optimistic in their thinking...
"You're going where tomorrow?" Mrs Weasley bellowed, halfway through dinner, her fork suspended half way between her plate and her mouth, a generous portion of sausage casserole still attached. "You had better think again, all of you!" She continued, pointing her fork at Ron now, so vigorously that a chunk of sausage flew off her fork and landed right on his lap. He didn't dare move to wipe it off, as he knew his mother was far from finished. She swept her steely glance over them all, before continuing, "We've all just got back together here, finally it looks as though we're going to be able to settle back in to a normal life, and you want to go to Australia? Of all places, you choose the other side of the world – can someone please explain why?"
"Well, we were going to get to that point, Mum, before you hit the roof." Ginny replied patiently. "There is actually a very good reason..."
And with that, Ginny proceeded to reveal the whereabouts of Hermione's parents, and the reasoning behind it. By the time Ginny had finished, Mrs Weasley, in stark contrast to the mood she had been in moments before, was now gazing lovingly at Hermione with sad, watery eyes.
"I had no idea, dear, really no idea at all," she whispered to Hermione, dabbing her eyes with the tablecloth, "You'll have to forgive me, I never once enquired of their safety, I suppose it just went right over my head … with everything that's happened..."
"Oh, Molly, honestly you've had enough on your plate, I-I completely understand," Hermione replied, her eyes now welling with tears too, "The last thing I wanted was for anyone to worry, that's one of the main reasons I kept it between R-Ron, Harry, Ginny and I..."
Then without any further warning, they were both out their seats, crying on each others shoulders, apologising to each other over and over again, for one reason after another. After the first 30 seconds of fairly serious matters, such as Hermione not mentioning her parents beforehand and Mrs Weasley being embarrassed about her overreaction to them going away, the apologies started to get ridiculous, with Mrs Weasley proclaiming she felt terrible for not having the time to turn down Ron and Hermione's bed the previous morning and Hermione admitting the guilt she felt for leaving her used mug in the kitchen sink that morning.
Harry, who was momentarily dumbstruck by the sudden change of scene, finally turned to Ron, who whilst removing half a sausage from his jeans, was watching Hermione and his mother with a look of astonishing confusion upon his face. He caught Harry's eye, shook his head and mouthed "girls", whilst continuing to be utterly bemused by their actions.
One thing was for sure though, regardless of how bizarre the situation was, they at least had Mrs Weasley's blessing for the trip, and as far as they were concerned, that was mission accomplished.
So, once the eyes had dried, and the meals had been finished, they all commuted to the Living Room, where George and Bill kept everyone amused by trying to predict the living arrangements Hermione had arranged for her parents. Hermione was quite happy to keep quiet and let their imagination run wild, and by the time Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione were ready for bed, George was certain Hermione had sealed them in a castle surrounded by dragons and trolls for their own safety. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione laughed them off, said their good nights, and headed up to bed – they had a long day ahead of them.
Harry was the first in The Kitchen the following morning, with the exception of Mrs Weasley, who Harry was seriously starting to doubt ever actually slept. She smiled warmly when he entered, and told him to take a seat while she finished off breakfast.
Harry had had a very restless night, his dreams plagued by the eerie handsome face that was now so familiar to him. No corridors tonight, just a constant swirling, grinning face, taunting him, knowing he had no idea what it meant. Was there also a second face? He was sure there had been, blurred, distant, and absolutely impossible to determine – perhaps it was the same face, he really had no idea. He decided he would have to bring this up with Ron and the others soon, as it was making no sense to him whatsoever. He would do it when they were back from Australia, he decided.
"Harry, dear, are you with us? Bacon and eggs for you?"
Harry forced himself to come back to reality, and found Mrs Weasley, and Ginny now, staring at him, clearly concerned by his odd behaviour. He was suddenly quite aware that he had been staring blankly at the wall, with a vacant expression on his face for the best part of ten minutes – he could see why they would be slightly alarmed by that...
"Sorry, eggs and bacon sound great thanks, and don't worry about me, I'm just feeling a bit nervous about heading out to Hermione's parents," he mumbled, quickly, avoiding eye contact with Ginny at all costs, "I just really hope everything works out OK."
"Oh, I'm sure it will dear," replied Mrs Weasley with a smile, whilst stacking eggs and bacon on to his plate, "Hermione's very clever, you know that – she knows exactly what she's doing."
Harry nodded and smiled a thanks for the breakfast, then chanced a glance at Ginny. He was by no means an expert on women, by any stretch of the imagination, but he could tell with absolute certainty that she wasn't fooled by his little cover up. She was giving him a stern look that said, we need to talk, to which he tried to return a look that said, not now, wait until later, but he was fully aware it probably displayed, I'm hiding something that you'd find very interesting. He cursed himself at that point for being such a terrible liar, and tried to force down breakfast despite not feeling particularly hungry any more.
Miraculously though, he did somehow manage to avoid that chat with Ginny for the rest of the morning. Perhaps his facial expressions had actually been better than he'd given himself credit for, he made a mental note to ask her at some point...Before he knew it, He, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were sitting back at the table, waiting for the Portkey to activate in two minutes time. The Weasleys, and Fluer, were standing by the stove, eager to see them off safely.
Hermione, quite understandably, looked rather nervous. She was fidgeting much more than usual, and was biting her lip so tenaciously, Harry was terrified she was going to tear it off. He tried a reassuring smile across the table, but the smile he got in return was weak and forced. Understandable, he thought to himself, given the circumstances.
As if it sensed that they were quite ready to get moving, the hideously crafted little vase on the table suddenly released a flash of brilliantly bright blue light, just for a second, to show that it had activated. After another round of goodbyes, and more instructions from Mrs Weasley to be very careful and look out for each other, the foursome reached forward, and simultaneously touched the vase.
Harry felt the familiar, but altogether unpleasant sensation of being tugged off the ground by an invisible hook, that was attached somewhere behind the naval. Not for the first time in his life, he reflected that even the Floo Network was better than this.
The feeling of discomfort was short lived though, as within moments, he was back on solid ground, surrounded by clear blue sky and a delightfully warm sea breeze. He turned to make sure the others were OK, and once satisfied they were all correct and present, he turned back to take in their surroundings a bit more. He was, quite frankly, blown away.
He had never holidayed whilst growing up with the Dursley's, always being left with old Mrs Figg whilst they disappeared to Majorca for a few weeks at a time. Not that he minded of course, two or three weeks without the Dursley's was his idea of a holiday, but he had seen the holiday brochures they left lying around the house, and sometimes, when he knew there was no chance of being discovered, he would enviously flick through them, fascinated by the golden beaches and blue waters – it was like nothing he had ever seen.
But this was better, this was paradise, it had to be. Hermione really couldn't have picked a nicer spot for her parents to be, and Harry couldn't help but feel, even if they were annoyed with what Hermione had done, they would at least appreciate the effort she had clearly gone to, to make sure they were as comfortable as possible.
"Hermione," he said, with a grin, "It's perfect, what a place!"
"Thanks, Harry," she beamed back, "I thought they'd love it here, they've always loved the beach, even when we used to go skiing in the winter, they always used to say they missed the beach!"
And what a beach they had. From where they stood, at the top of a little palm lined walkway, that led down on to the finest white sand you could possibly imagine, they could see a little row of five or six beach houses, just about half a mile along the beach. They were all accessible directly from the beach by a few stairs that seemed to lead up to an outdoor decking area. It would only have taken you about thirty seconds to get in to the Ocean from those deckings as well, and the water was crystal clear – not just blue. The whole area just looked so secluded and beautiful. As they made their way down to the beach itself, Harry was already thinking he might just have decided on his first purchase using his inheritance money.
"It's the third one along," Hermione called out, to nobody in particular, as they made their way along the beach, "That's where they are...they're called Wendell and Monica Wilkins now, not sure if I mentioned that..."
But Harry wasn't listening, because as they reached the first of the little row of homes, he started to get a feeling that something wasn't quite right. He couldn't put his finger on it, he just felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and that first jolt of adrenaline hit his system. He decided to wait it out, it may well just be the effect of entering unfamiliar territory. He held his wand though, it was discreetly tucked in to a hole in his shorts pocket, having it so close to hand made him feel a lot better.
It was inexplicable, but he felt he was going to need it.