Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K Rowling.

A/N: Behold something rare. For the first time in a long while, we are doing to a chapter with only our main character as a P.O.V character. I tried to do something differnt here from the rest of the story, I do hope you enjoy it!

Chapter 60: Down Under

-Harry-

Similarly to how I had travelled back and forth Nanshu, we stopped in several cities on our way down to Australia.

The inside of the floo centre looked like the Ministry of Magic, with its shining black tiles and high ceiling. Everywhere one looked, I saw entrances to different fires.

Canberra. Wellington. Sydney.

The signs were displayed over the countless fires; I even spotted Nanshu written over one of them. I wondered what colour the tree was that time of the year, I found that I couldn't remember what colour it had been last year.

Dumbledore walked calmly beside me, neither of us garnering as much as a second glance. If people recognised who we were, they sure didn't show it.

I smiled and followed him through the myriad of bodies; it was a nice change, if only for a couple of days.

The second I stepped outside, I was struck in the face by the beams of the sun. I had to shield my eyes as the wave of warmth washed over me.

"It's hot," I said. "Very hot."

He chuckled. "It is the middle of summer here in Australia, Harry."

I took my sweater off, and glanced at my black jeans with disdain. "You could have told me this before we travelled here."

"I thought it was well known, especially for someone raised by muggles," Dumbledore said. "But I'll remind you about the climate of the next country we visit."

I felt myself staring up into the sky at the skyscrapers and tall buildings around me. Perth was not what I expected from Australia, it looked like something from an action movie, like someone would climb any of these buildings in any second on a secret mission.

We arrived at the hotel and checked in. The young man in the reception looked at us a little oddly, no doubt due to our lack of bags and our less than normal attire.

Luckily enough, Dumbledore had ordered different rooms. Once inside, I flung myself on the bed and just lay there for a moment, my eyes closed, breathing in and out slowly.

We were due to meet with the historian in a couple of hours. We were having dinner with her at some restaurant I'd already forgotten the name of.

Her name was Jennefer Venger, that was about all I knew about her; apart from the fact that she specialised in history about parseltongue.

She was the latest owner of the locket; hopefully, we could leave Australia with only Nagini left to kill.

Yet we had needed to graft to just reach this point, I had a sinking feeling that it would take quite a bit more time before the locket was found.

Hopefully, we would be the ones to find it, because if Voldemort did, there was a great chance no one would ever see the thing again.

I stood up and walked over to the balcony. The sun stood in the middle of the sky, glaring down at everyone who dared go outside in that bright hour.

Going from the biting cold of Britain to the heat of Perth in just an hour felt surreal, like I had gone into another one of those paintings inside Igantus' Iliad.

Despite the fluffy pillows and huge shower in the room, it felt like I was missing something.

Or someone perhaps.

That place would have been perfect, I realised. Me and Greengrass spent some time there, lavishing in the sun all day long. If I got lucky, I might even have got to see her in a swimsuit.

I shook my head, smiling, and went inside again. There was no point staring out the window all day, I might as well go and see the city before the dinner.

-()-

Perth was a beautiful city, yet I couldn't help but feel put out by the towering buildings and clean roads; it felt unnatural, void; like people didn't actually live there, only tourists.

Despite the clock reading just before seven o'clock, the sun was still high in the sky, showering us with relentless warmth. I met Dumbledore at a corner and together, we went towards the restaurant. I couldn't help but feel nervous about the meeting; like my body instinctively knew that something was about to happen.

The woman was already seated on the table. Despite sitting down, I could tell she was a tall woman, about middle-aged.

She stood up as she saw us approach. "Good evening, Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Potter," she said. "It's a pleasure to meet you both."

"You too, Mrs. Venger," Dumbledore said, shaking her hand.

We sat down around the table, and I subtly noticed that she cast a couple of enchantments around us to keep people from hearing what we said.

"You can never be too sure," Jennefer said. "There aren't many wizards in Australia, even less here in Perth, but you never know who's listening."

"Indeed," Dumbledore said. "I don't think either of us want this conversation to be overheard."

The waitress arrived and placed our drinks on the table; we also ordered the food.

"So, Mr. Potter," Jennefer began. "Has Mr. Dumbledore told you about my profession?"

"Yes," I said. "You're a historian –a historian who specialises in the historic use of parseltongue."

"And everything around that," Jennefer finished. She took a sip of her drink. "What do you know about religions in the wizarding world?"

I sat up a little straighter. "Not many, most of the common muggle religions are also practised by some wizards."

Jennefer nodded. "You're right, of course, but the overwhelming majority of wizards are not religious, at least not in the traditional way." Jennfer paused and looked at me intently, as if she was looking at something behind my eyes. "However, there was a prominent religion in the whole wizarding world a couple of hundred years ago, a religion which is almost dead by now."

I exchanged a look with Dumbledore.

"This religion was centred around snakes," Jennefer explained. "The wizards and witches believed that snakes were vessels of the God, and that anyone who could speak to them–"

"Could speak to God," I guessed. "So what? Can I speak to God?"

Jennefer shrugged. "I don't know. I don't know if this God they believed in existed, I only know that the people who believed in him did."

I nodded. "Alright. So what, you've found shrines? Temples?"

Jennefer nodded. "Yes. Plenty of them." She smiled to herself. "There is a great problem though, all of these require a key of some kind to be properly opened."

I leaned back in my chair. "You need someone who can speak parseltongue," I guessed.

Jennefer nodded. "I can't know for sure, but that is what everything points towards. Unfortunately, people who can speak the language are all but gone now. . . I only know of two who are alive."

"Me and Voldemort," I said flatly. "Are you asking for my help?" I said, getting straight to the point.

Jennefer smiled. "Am I asking you for help? Definitely." She paused and glanced at Dumbledore. "However, I am willing to ask for more than just your help."

I raised my eyebrows, urging her to continue.

"I know that you have a year and a half left of school," Jennefer said. "But I am more than willing to allow you to become my apprentice the second you leave Hogwarts."

I frowned and chewed on my lip. Dumbledore was smiling at me politely. "You're offering me a job?" I said slowly, to make sure I heard it right.

Jennefer nodded. "Mr. Dumbledore has told me that you are of the adventurous sort. Exploring uncharted jungles and oceans should be right up your alley."

I hummed thoughtfully. A job. It was something I had never even dared to think about before. An occupation. A profession. A living. Something to provide for my family.

I took another long sip from my drink. "I must say, learning about the past intrigues me, but I can't promise anything. I don't even know if I'll be alive in a year's time."

Jennefer nodded in understanding. "I understand that, Mr. Potter. I'm just giving you an offer. . ." The woman smiled at me sadly. "I've heard a lot about you this past year, Mr. Potter. I must say that I was impressed with your performance in Duelling Days, even if I didn't see you duel myself." Jennefer swirled the contents of her glass, deep in thought. "I don't know where your interests lie, but I can promise you one thing: an opportunity to use all of those skills you have. Historian may sound like a pretty dull profession –and it is for some– but historians are not the only people seeking lost treasures and hidden knowledge, if you catch my meaning," she said.

"What? Are you telling me there's pirates or something?"

"If you're lucky," Jennefer said. "I've faced far worse than pirates on my travels. . ." She stared off into the distance, no doubt remembering something from her past. "Sometimes, you have to fight something which isn't even human, sometimes, there are great beasts; and sometimes, there are things which we have no names for."

"Like demons?" I said, a little disbelieving.

"Something like that, Mr. Potter," Jennefer said. "You see, most places that are protected well, are so for a reason."

"So why do you want to open these places up?" I wondered. "Why not keep them closed and be safe?"

Jennefer smiled at me knowingly. "You already know the answer to that, Mr. Potter."

I swallowed. "Knowledge," I whispered. "Knowledge and power."

Jennefer inclined her head. "Knowledge and power, those are the things I can promise you, Mr. Potter, where you come to work with me. Not for me, but with me. I'm offering you an apprenticeship, but I hold no delusions that you have to be taught anything, it is strictly a formal arrangement."

I didn't want to admit it, but I was intrigued. Exploring old dungeons and fighting rivals for treasure sounded brilliant. It sounded like something my abilities were perfect for. Did I dare to think about the future?

"Anyways," Jennefer said. "I've said enough about that today, I'll give you some time to think about it, Mr. Potter. You've got over a year to decide, after all. I just want you to know that I would welcome you with open arms."

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore said. "Perhaps it's time you start thinking about your future."

I nodded slowly, knowing what he was trying to do.

"But Mrs. Venger," Dumbledore said. "I requested this meeting for a reason."

Jennefer nodded. "Yes, Slytherin's locket, right?"

I leaned forwards in anticipation.

Jennefer grimaced. "I don't have it anymore," she said.

I wanted to punch something.

"However," she continued. "I will have it back soon." Jennefer glanced at both of us. "I gave it to my brother –who left on an expedition a couple of weeks back– after his expedition, he is supposed to return home, here to Perth."

"When does he come home then?" I wondered, a trace of urgency in my tone.

Jennefer shrugged. "I don't know exactly; but it will take at least a month, I'd say, it may even take three or four months."

I slumped in my chair. "Can we try to find him?" I asked, desperate.

"Can you try to find a specific grain of sand on the bottom of the ocean?" she said. "No, you won't find him, nor will any owl be able to get to him."

I shook my head. "We need that locket, now. Your brother is in more danger every second he has that locket."

Jennefer tilted her head at me. "There was something dark about that locket," she said. "I assumed that it was a key to a door somewhere. Are you telling me there's something else?"

"I can't tell you that," I said vaguely. "But you should know that we are far from the only people who are looking for this locket, and everyone else won't have any qualms with killing you, your brother and everyone in the city to get their hands on it."

Jennefer nodded in understanding. "I see, I assume this Voldemort are looking for it too? He is the one I should be afraid of."

"Among others," I conceded. "But you have to understand, he will kill and torture you if he finds out you had it."

"Good thing you won't tell him, then," Jennefer said. "I've had the locket for almost five months, and have seen no trace of Voldemort or anyone else, you are the first two who have come here asking about it."

"And we want to keep it that way," I said. "We need it destroyed, and soon."

Jenneder leaned back in her chair. "I'll notify you the second my brother comes home." She looked at me pointedly. "I am doing you this favour because I really want your help, Mr. Potter." Jennefer held her hands up. "I'm not forcing you to accept my offer or anything, I just want you to know that having your talents to work with would be priceless."

I smiled at the praise. "Thank you, Mrs. Venger, but we will have to try and look for your brother before then. We have to do everything we can to get our hands on that locket."

Jennefer nodded. "I can try to help you, of course, but I am due to leave for Svalbard in a couple of days and really don't have the time to scour the whole of South America."

I grimaced. "Your brother is in South America, that's all you can tell us?"

Jennefer shrugged. "I can't even tell you that, to be honest. Sometimes, you enter a temple in Australia, and step outside to notice you've been teleported across the globe to Greenland."

"Ahh, so he could be anywhere?"

"I'd say that I'm pretty sure he is on earth," Jennefer said. "I've never seen or heard of a place which apparates you to the moon or such."

I chuckled, knowing that someone had indeed been able to do that. "I suppose we will have to wait," I said. "If you promise us to tell us the second you get any news about him."

Jennefer nodded. "Of course, Mr. Potter, you have my word."

The waitress arrived again, with our meals that time.

"I hope you have a good meal," she said and left. I tried my best to do so, but my mind couldn't let go of the thought of working as a historian –exploring the unknown galaxies of magic; galaxies not even my master had visited.

-()-

We bid Jennefer goodbye about an hour later; she would return to her home; me and Dumbledore walked towards the hotel room. For the first time in Perth, I felt like I could breathe without it feeling like my lungs were made of sand.

"What do you think?" Dumbledore said. "About working with Jennefer."

"Was it your idea?" I wondered. "Did you approach her with both goals in mind?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "No, she was the one to propose the idea actually. I thought that it might be something you would enjoy, or at least get you thinking about your future."

He was right about that at least.

"What will we do about her brother?" I said. "We can't just wait here for him to return, right?"

Dumbledore nodded. "We can't. I'll station someone from the Order here to keep an eye out, so we will know when something happens."

"We need to be here the second the brother returns," I said. "Neither Voldemort nor the one-armed man may know about Jennefer yet, but they might find out."

"I will prepare an emergency portkey to take us here or back, depending on the situation," Dumbledore said. "It won't be a pleasant journey, but it'll make due."

"Good," I said, but I felt a heavy feeling in my gut. "I hate this, just waiting, doing nothing."

"We can always turn our focus to the remaining horcrux," Dumbledore said. "There is one left, something presumably left behind by Ravenclaw or Gryffindor."

Part of me wanted to tell him it was already destroyed, so that we didn't have to waste any effort; but the part that won reminded me of my promise to my master. Lies built on lies, it was a tiresome construction, but it would only have to hold until the black rot of the headmaster's hand had spread enough.

We continued the walk in silence. The sun descended beyond the horizon, leaving the city in a tired, orange glow. I imagined that the sunset was beautiful, if one stood on my balcony.

"Sir," I said. "Why did you book for us to stay in the city tomorrow too?"

Dumbledore quirked his lips. "I thought we could use the vacation," he said. "Both of us have been working very hard, we deserve a break, don't you think?"

I raised my eyebrows. "You're meeting someone, aren't you? Or looking for something."

"I'm going to interview a potential candidate for a teaching position at Hogwarts," Dumbledore said. "I thought that you could spend the day having some fun in a new country. You can, of course, go back home if you want to."

I contemplated the choice; weighing each decision like they were weights on a little scale.

"I'll stay," I said. "I haven't even seen half of the city yet, I can't leave already." We arrived at the hotel, and I held the door open for my headmaster. "And comparing this weather with Britain's is like comparing the sun's warmth to a candle's."

-()-

From the second I woke up the following morning, entangled in the soft white sheets, to the second I returned back to my hotel room after lunch, I felt like a little rabbit, lost in the woods.

The conversation with Jennefer yesterday was a key. It unlocked doors for me –too many doors. Doors I didn't want to open, not yet, while the war was still going on.

I imagined myself dressed like Indiana Jones, wand in one hand, a machete in the other. I pictured myself slashing myself through the deep jungle, eventually reaching hidden temples filled with gold and arcane power.

Yet I knew that it wasn't something which would happen. Everything Jennefer told me about sounded fantastic and fun, but did she speak the whole truth?

Fighting rivals to treasure and learning forbidden knowledge sounded perfect for me; it was precisely what I was doing now.

The difference was that I was forced to do this; if I decided to work with it, it would be because I wanted to –not because of some damned prophecy.

Getting things in life through your own choosing was always better than having it forced upon you.

I sighed and stared off into the distance from my balcony. It was at that point again where it almost hurt to stand in the sun. I never thought I would have said that, but I almost longed to return to some cold. Being in Perth was like constantly walking in an oven, not even the nights were cold.

I smiled to myself and admired the view.

The never-ending blue ocean, which was almost as blue as the sky in the light.

I could imagine myself living there, returning there every time I wasn't out on some exploration.

If only I got someone to go home to. It wasn't impossible, I realised.

Standing there, on the balcony in Perth, I truly, for the first time thought about myself in five years, ten years and fifty years; and the images which came to mind weren't filled with death, blood and fire, but with green grass, bright sun and clear water, and of course, Daphne herself. I could see it as well as I could see the orange sky, and I believed that it could be a reality. It was possible.

-()-

It was dark outside when I stepped inside the bar. It was –like every other place in Perth– very warm, but not in an uncomfortable way, for once.

I knew that, technically, I wasn't allowed to drink yet, but I was sure I could have my wand work in place of an actual ID.

The inside of the bar was dark too, with a couple of orange lights illuminating the dusky interior. The bar was quite crowded, despite the hour. A couple of men were watching some sport on the television, occasionally shouting or cheering over something happening.

I ordered a drink, using a confundus charm on the bartender, and waited, breathing in the atmosphere.

For what felt like the thousandth time that day, I asked myself: could I imagine myself living there, in that town?

I didn't know where I got the obsession to live in the city; I felt rather distasteful about the heat. Perhaps it was the fact that Jennefer lived here, and that I would have to work under her.

I thanked the bartender for the drink and sipped it quietly.

I held back a grimace at the taste. Beer wasn't something I would drink for the sheer taste of it.

I smiled a ghost of a smile.

What was it Alice had said about drinking?

You don't drink it for the taste, you drink it for the alcohol.

I took another long sip, relishing the feeling of my nerves relaxing.

We were supposed to share a drink the evening after I duel. It was supposed to be my first time drinking.

Instead of all that, I was sitting there, alone, doing nothing but reminiscing about the past.

I wiped the tears I felt emerging from the corner of my eyes. I hadn't thought about her for weeks, it felt like I did her a disservice. She only lived through memory; my memory, but if I didn't remember her. . .

One conversation with her, and I knew that every single doubt I had carried with me that day would disappear. Alice was always so sure about her future; she was almost as sure about mine too. She would know for certain what I should do.

I emptied the last of the bottle down my throat.

Be happy.

That was what she would tell me; that was what she always told me.

I gestured for another drink. Upon receiving it, I toasted with myself.

"To my promise," I said.

The crowd of young men erupted into cheers suddenly, jumping from their chairs and hugging each other with shouts of joy. I smiled, despite my sombre thoughts. I wanted to be part of that; I wanted that belonging, I wanted to have friends.

Yet I had thrown almost all of them away, despite my futile efforts.

"A beer please," a young man said, sitting down in the chair directly to my right.

The bartender handed him a bottle, eyeing him for any signs of previous consumption.

Upon receiving the bottle, the young man turned to me. Perhaps it was wrong of me to call him young, he was older than me, by at least a couple of years, but his hair was brown and alive, and he had a healthy tan.

"Celebrating something?" he said, gesturing to my bottle. "I saw you toasting earlier."

I shook my head slowly. "No, not really."

"Mourning, then," he said, relieving himself of a loud sigh. "My condolensces."

"You don't even know what happened."

The man took a sip of his drink. "I really don't need to. A young man -like yourself- doesn't come to a place like this to drink by himself if there's not any reason for it."

I chuckled darkly. "Perhaps I was bored?"

"Perhaps," the man said vaguely. He eyed me for a moment, searching for something. "I wanted to talk to you for a reason," the man said.

I sat up a little straighter in my chair; I was under the assumption this was a muggle establishment. Was this man a wizard who had recognised me?

"What about?" I said, trying my best to sound casual.

The man observed me for a moment, seemingly trying to decide what he was trying to say.

"You're not from around here," the man said. "You're from England, right?"

I nodded slowly, not quite liking where the conversation was heading. "Britain, yes," I said.

"Alright," the young man said. "Look, man, I wanted to tell you something, because it seemed to me like you were missing the opportunity of a lifetime, but I ain't too sure anymore."

I frowned, and looked at the man closer. "What opportunity?" I wondered, genuinely bewildered.

The young man leaned in a little bit closer. "Don't look when I tell you, but to your right, there is this girl who definitely want you to talk up to her."

I blinked. My mind had come up with a thousand things the man was about to say to me. That was not one of them.

I swallowed. "Okay?" I said, a little uncertain. "What for?"

The young man looked at me as if I was an idiot. "Why do you think?" he said. "To talk about the weather?"

"Okay, okay, I get it," I said. I sipped my drink again. "But I won't do that."

The young man raised his eyebrows. "Why not?" he wondered. "She's very good looking, man, pretend to go to the bathroom and have a look yourself. Just be subtle."

I snorted. "Thanks for the advice, and I'm sure you're right, but I have a partner."

The young man nodded. "Alright man, I respect that." He nudged me with his elbow. "Is she hot?"

I smiled. "Very," I said. "More so than I deserve."

The man patted my shoulder. "Don't say that man, you can't not deserve her if you pass on her to stay loyal." The man nodded in the direction of the girl which was supposedly eyeing me up.

I shrugged. "What about you? Do you have someone?"

The man shook his head. "Nah, man. I've decided that I'll stay well clear of women for a while. My recent experiences have been nothing but trouble."

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said.

The man chuckled. "Don't be, I've never has as much fun as the day I came home to see my girlfriend painting out kitchen walls with fucking nail polish."

I snorted.

"Don't ask why," the man said. "You really don't want to know."

"Well," I said. "I don't think my girlfriend will paint our kitchen walls with nail polish, but I will watch out for any signs."

"Good," the man said. "I took a good damn week to even scratch that paint." He shook his head, a fond smile on his lips. "You know what? She could have chosen any colour, I've seen her collection of those things, she's got more of them than I've got DVDs, but she chose fucking pink to paint with." The man laughed and held his drink up. "To women," he said, his voice full longing.

I clinked the bottle, an image of Greengrass standing with a bottle of nail polish, painting a wall, in my mind. "To women," I said, and drank from the bottle.

It tasted better than ever before.