In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 116: Travelers II
Harry felt the heat immediately as they landed, the sweat that built up fast, in the crowded street. Spider web of power lines above that were too low for comfort to Harry, the tin roofs, the markets and vendors along the street.
"Guessing…" Harry started, the warming charms definitely out of place, though a cooling charm might be necessary. "Need an ATM."
"Bit cruel," Gia said, "Leaving."
"We need the space," Harry said, "Hermione wasn't happy."
They found an ATM, where Gia put in her debit card.
"Um…" Harry pressed what seemed right, took out the stack 500 peso banknotes, split them.
"We're going to need a bigger purse," Gia said.
"Be a bit generous?" Harry said, "Keep pounds and dollars, rest gets spent—or given."
They walked to one vendor, with a stack of green coconuts.
"Buko juice?" asked the young man.
"Um…sure," Harry replied. Harry shrugged, Gia to his shoulders.
The young man cut the top to one, cut it, added a couple of straws. He took the note and gave change. Harry took the saucer with the green on it, brought the coconut up between them, and they sipped, together, and they sat at the table.
"Different," Gia said.
"Different's good," Harry said, "Have to recommend this to Ron."
"Who'd be here if—" Gia started.
"They needed to go their own way," Harry said, "I love them too, which can mean that."
Harry carved into the white flesh within the coconut, chewed into it, and knew this was going to be the way of things for a while.
Hermione stepped off the bus late Wednesday morning with Ron next to her, near the fortress on the hill by the Bosporus Strait.
"Finally something," Ron said.
"You're—" Hermione started.
"Please," Ron said, "Can we not?"
Hermione sighed. Ron pulled, they sat to the grass, his right knee up, the left leg crossed.
"Guess the nerves wear fast," Ron said, "Should…"
Ron's hand to his hip pocket, pulled out a letter. Tear to the eye, one Ron tried to hold back.
"Percy's service," Ron said, "Friday."
Ron put the letter back, sealed the pocket.
"We go back?" Hermione asked.
"Friday," Ron said, "Harry'll be there."
"This is…this is…" Hermione started.
"Where'd you like to go?" Ron asked.
"Home," Hermione admitted, "But we don't have that."
"Find a spot, burn our wands, get muggle jobs," Ron said, "Think that'd work?"
"Maybe," Hermione said, "Not for Harry."
Ron shook his head.
"Got an idea," Ron said as he pulled out the Portkey, "Good for the distraction."
"Uh–oh," Hermione said.
Ron activated it, Hermione held on. Jerk behind the naval.
"Where to?" Hermione asked.
"Surprise," Ron said.
Dusty sand beneath her, the Great Sphinx showed as they landed.
"Thought about the library," Ron said, "Too many wizards to be safe."
Hermione glanced at Ron, studied him.
"Suppose the other idea is to track Harry down," Ron said, "Join in whatever he's up to."
Dumbledore leafed through witness statements late Thursday evening, the testimonials, the report on the lumber to the crate, the autopsy to several of the bats, and the psychiatric interviews with Hagrid. Door that opened.
"Albus," McGonagall said, "Thought Poppy ordered an early bedtime."
"It's still light out," Dumbledore said.
Glance to the window, barely even a dim, the moon halfway between first quarter and full above.
"We're well past the vernal equinox in Scotland," McGonagall said, "Total blinds have to do."
A colorful tropical bird that entered, dropped the letter to the Headmaster. Dumbledore opened it.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Albus Dumbledore
I must admit Harry Potter's something to behold. Well mannered and handsome. I think you're seeing reason here.
Aubrey Morgan, Philippine Guild of Magic
Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.
"I presume they are traveling," said McGonagall.
"Might have been the right call," Dumbledore said, "Nobody's better at being an ambassador to his side than him, provided he's given a chance to demonstrate it."
A thought to the Weasleys. Dumbledore stood, went for the fireplace. He made his way into the morgue, where he trembled as he lifted the casket lid. Sadness filled the old man, the sight of another youth struck down, one that could've had a century or more left.
"Harry said Percy was a word away from breaking the conspiracy," Arthur said.
Dumbledore touched the temples, the magic that did not work.
"If I was there at the moment of death…" Dumbledore said, "Well, I could've likely stopped the death and arrested the culprit."
"Would haves, could haves," Arthur said, "Harry's decreed him a war hero."
"That Percy is," Dumbledore said, "We'll accumulate more war heroes before this conflict is over."
Dumbledore closed the casket, turned.
"Need to make arrangements for Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said.
"Harry's explicitly stated he will not attend," Arthur said.
Dumbledore's eyes that surveyed the man in the leisure suit.
"It has been advertised," Arthur said, "Staying away to avoid burying us. Those were his words, and I appreciate the consideration."
"Simplifies the task a bit," Dumbledore said, "Still, I expect Ronald to show."
Dumbledore wondered if Harry had simply stopped trusting the ability of the old crowd to secure anything.
Friday morning, Ron held the door open as he and Hermione entered the cafe in Cairo, and waited as Hermione ordered. Signs and menus that now made sense, despite not being in English. Ron went over to a table, pulled out The Daily Prophet as he sat down, Hermione sat to the other side.
"I hate not being able to stay anywhere," Hermione said, "Get to know an area…move along. Rinse and repeat."
"Go to the letters to the editors," Ron said, "Count how many want us dead."
"I know," Hermione said, "Still, it's annoying to not be able to explore anywhere, not really. Be a tourist for a couple of days, move along. Gets old."
"Charge the Ministry instead?" Ron said, "Doubt we'd make it past the gates."
"Forget it," Hermione said, "Oh…this is interesting."
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Puddlemere United Denying Shark Attack
Puddlemere United officials are stonewalling claims that a tiger shark was seen in their locker room. RSPCA is investigating.
"Fred's or George's prank gone wrong?" Ron said, "What's next?"
Hermione's finger moved on the page. "Three dead in Lebanon, four in Italy."
"Back to the shark," Ron said.
"Nothing else on it," Hermione said.
"Guess we could go and ask," Ron said, "But if they're stonewalling…who's got the hat?"
Hermione's brown eyes to him.
"Know who's going to be at Percy's service?" Ron asked.
Hermione shook her head.
"Maybe his boss, coworkers?" Ron said, "He was a Ministry employee. Plop the hat on their heads, start asking questions."
"Somebody'll report that," Hermione said.
"There's at least one at Hogwarts, one at the Ministry, who knows way more—" Ron jabbed at the paper. "If they've blabbed at all, you bet somebody will show who knows. Percy died to crack it, maybe we can."
Ron spotted the startlement in her eyes, that his thoughts rose above his crotch. Hermione stood, went to the counter, carried the tray back. Ron worked into the croissant sandwich, the egg and beef within it.
"Wonder how they managed to get a shark in?" Hermione asked.
"Knowing The Daily Prophet," Ron said, "Somebody dropped a goldfish."
Hermione snorted, kept working on her food.
"Ready?" Ron asked as he finished his tea.
Ron waited, collected the paper, and stood. Hermione finished and stood; they went back into the restroom, left the door unlocked, as Ron pulled out his Portkey.
"Wonder if the shower's available?" Hermione asked.
A short while later, Ron returned to the living room from the lavatory, Hermione still in the shower.
"How were the sharks?" Fred asked, the gold and green suit on him.
"Goldfish?" Ron asked.
"Been hanging out with Hagrid too much," Fred said, "Sharks are not goldfish."
Ron snorted, it was something Hagrid would say.
"Harry left a letter," Fred said.
Ron spotted it on the table, addressed to him.
"Swimming with them ain't conducive to your health," Fred said.
"May I?" Ron said, holding the letter up, "You set the tiger shark loose in the locker room, didn't you?"
"Can't hide it when he's showing up with bite wounds," Fred said.
"Please?" Ron said, "Not been swimming—meet you at Percy's…the cemetery."
Ron sat at the table, read into the letter, as Hermione neared him.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Ron and Hermione,
Yes, heard it was a sight to behold, knew Fred thought so. Didn't mean to bring along a shark, but I did. Thinking I'll keep the new scars.
An attempt was made to rape Gia—the ring did NOT alert me. Maybe untrackable had something to do with it? Consider Hermione's ring useless.
We're both fine, but we won't be at the service. Figured it best to stay away.
Your friend,
Harry
"Shark was his doing after all," Hermione said.
Ron folded the letter, put it into his pocket. Ron turned to Hermione, held her hand, fingered the ring.
"Good while the protections lasted," Ron said, "Keep your wits about you."
"I always do," Hermione said.
"Before this turns domestic," Fred said.
Ron went with Hermione, into the fireplace.
"St. Ottery Cemetery!" Ron exclaimed.
Together, Ron and Hermione spun. Ron's wand already out, and cast the disillusionment the moment he stepped out with Hermione, as she did the same. Around the portable curtain into the corridor, filled with the red heads of family. Bill in his dragon hide with Fleur Delacour. Charlie stood next to the brown haired Adam. George in his green and gold suit. While Mr. Weasley had a young Edward entangled around his feet.
"There you are," Arthur Weasley said, as Ginny and Colin passed Ron and Hermione.
Past the small podium with the guest register, Ron entered the chapel in light green, the family box in curtains of black to the left. Ron glanced around the floating arrangements of flowers spread throughout, to Kingsley Shacklebolt in disillusion to one corner, and with Mad Eye Moody watching from the other in disillusion. Ron waved to them both, got the wave back, and went to the coffin in the center. Open to show Percy's red hair, the pin striped suit, and a familiar beetle that was sitting upon the fabric next to the docile hand.
"Ah," Ron whispered as he lifted the beetle up.
A fast turn around, the walking back out of the chapel into the hall, where Hermione talked with Fleur.
"Pretty sure Ron's around," Fred said to Arthur, "She's here."
Ron went out the front door, wand drawn, and the disapparation. He apparated by the marble pillar, with Weasley engraved in it. In the corner of the cemetery, beneath the drop–off in the hill, the wide expanse of graves and green. Ron went toward the open one, a headstone with Molly Weasley's dates, empty beneath Arthur's, and a third spot now in the stone,
"Okay," Ron said to the beetle, "Now we talk."
As Rita Skeeter transformed, Ron aimed his wand around, nothing out of the ordinary. His eyes turned to Rita's, the ones that took him in. Her dress of light green, the open top that showed much of her cleavage.
"We're burying my brother today," Ron said, "So I'm not in a good mood."
"You recognized an opportunity," Rita said, "Or, you wouldn't have brought me out here."
"I was on the fire chat with Percy," Ron said, "It was on the tip of his tongue, the next words were going to be a name, might be the one who strangled him, you can bet it'd split the conspiracy wide open."
Rita's eyes to Ron, the hands to his shirt, worked their way down.
"Fascinating," Rita said, "Wondering what your plan is."
"Guess to the guest list," Ron said, "Think we can interview them?"
"Always trying to get the upper hand," Rita said.
Ron didn't need to study her eyes to know her price, and that was him.
"Was hoping for Harry," Rita whispered as she leaned in, kissed.
"Staying away," Ron said.
"Remarkably…reasonable," Rita said.
Knees down to the grass, the topple to the side, and Ron rolled on top of her.
"Wondered where you'd gotten off to," Hermione said, rounding the ridge, "Interesting choice."
Ron stood up.
"Discussions," Ron said.
"I can see that," Hermione said.
"I'll go…investigate," Rita Skeeter said, the dress that restored itself, and she transformed. Wings to the air, the beetle flew.
Ron spotted the ire within Hermione's eyes, not like he needed the hint.
"You?" Hermione stammered.
"Payment for services rendered," Ron replied.
"Some payment," Hermione said, "About to bang Rita Skeeter."
Ron's hands to her shoulders.
"What'd I have to offer?" Ron said, "Her fee to help, small price if it gets us exonerated."
Disbelief still to her brown eyes.
"If it bloody works, it works," Ron said, "Let's go mingle."
Wand that recast the disillusionment charm on himself, Ron held Hermione, disapparated, apparated them both next to the white chapel, and entered. One man in a tan suit entered the men's room, and Ron followed him in.
"David Xavier, right?" Ron asked.
"Derek," the man corrected, his back toward Ron.
"Derek," Ron said, "Notice anybody following Percy…say a week before he vanished?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Xavier said.
Xavier spun around.
"Not the social type?" Xavier asked.
Ron moved as Xavier went for the sink.
"Million on my head," Ron said, "No, Percy was onto something, thought maybe he'd talked to you about it."
"Percy Weasley was my best," Xavier said, "He'd audit and more, sent fear into the other departments, earned us respect."
Ron studied the eyes.
"Who cleared out his desk?" Ron asked.
"Not much there," Xavier said, "A few condiments and one picture frame."
"Percy uncovered who in the Ministry was on Voldemort's payroll," Ron said, "That's why he got murdered."
"It's his funeral," Xavier said.
"I'd rather him alive too," Ron said.
"Sorry for your loss," Xavier said.
A turn, the man left the men's room. Ron renewed his disillusionment and followed, left the lavatory. Ron's nerves calmed a bit, Oliver Wood along with Katie Bell entered the lobby.
"Too soon," Oliver Wood said as he signed the register.
"Don't see Harry's name here," Katie said, "Nor Ron's."
"Bit a security nightmare if they did," Oliver said.
A slow tap of the cane.
"Some of us ought to be with our family," Dumbledore said, the eyes at Ron.
Aurors that entered.
"Like right now," Dumbledore said.
A spin, Ron went down the side corridor, into the room of red heads, the black curtains drawn to shield the occupants. Ron understood, it was only because of him. Still, he sat with Charlie to his right. Hermione with Fleur.
"Somebody sneaking around?" Charlie asked.
"Lets advertise," Ron said, "I'll be next."
"Not funny," Charlie said.
"Neither is the price on my head," Ron said, "Of all the places—this one's been advertised."
Ron spotted Shacklebolt and Moody nearby. In the front row, Amelia Bones and Albus Dumbledore. Blond haired Snuffles sat attentively within this small family booth, the black fabric charmed to let them see out. Ron eased up, let the disillusionment drop.
"Not too bad," Bill Weasley said.
"Shh!" came Ginny's voice.
Sky blue robes, the Minister for Magic stepped up to the lectern, the Aurors that stood watch, eyes toward the box of the family.
"Regrettable," the Minister said, "The death of a loyal worker for the Ministry, Peter Weasley was known for frequently burning the midnight oil. Nobody was safe over–indulging on the taxpayer's Sickle at the Ministry when young Peter Weasley was on the watch."
Though Ron tried to listen, it was a politician speaking, about tuned him out, hoped Harry was faring better.
"Everybody wants a moment," Charlie whispered.
"I know," Ron whispered, as the slow cane preceded Dumbledore standing up there, "When it's my turn, make it a party instead—dancing, lots and lots of dancing, on brooms."
Charlie snorted.
"As a Headmaster of many years," Dumbledore said, "I see the young wizards and witches come through. It always saddens me to see their end, because I've been afforded so many years, whereas, I know the time robbed from theirs."
"Suppose the speech's going to be similar after my execution," Ron whispered.
Charlie's eyes that studied Ron's.
"Don't be that pessimistic," Charlie whispered.
"A million to my head?" Ron whispered, "Question of when, not if."
"Please be a bit more optimistic," whispered Arthur from behind Ron, "Voices carry."
Ron unsure if it was that, however, Edward was placed into his lap. Hands that crawled on Ron, the little broomstick that hovered, the legs, and the blue eyes beneath the budding orange hair. Ron understood this distraction.
"I'm next," Arthur said as he stood.
Leisure suit, the man who walked through the curtains to the lectern.
"Molly and I were proud of our third born," Arthur said, "Percy followed in the great footsteps of Bill and Charlie, but determined to make his mark. Head Boy, beat the Hogwarts record on NEWTs, unfortunately he was first in death too, beat me to the grave, a feat which, I hope is not repeated."
Ron didn't need Legilimency to know the sadness going through his father. Ron shared some of the blame, leading Percy to follow Harry, to try to crack the conspiracy. Edward's face, the eyes back to Ron, and the distraction continued. Ron lifted Edward, held him upside down, the fists that pounded to his own legs.
"Will you two…!" Bill snapped at Ron.
Ron ignored Bill's plea, instead focused on the wandless levitation to Edward, the eyes wide, the grin to the face, the giggling. Arthur returned.
"Alright," Arthur said, "Ron, your choice to be a pallbearer. Anybody acting won't enjoy their windfall."
Ron handed Edward over to Fleur, and stood.
"Ron," Hermione said.
"I owe it to Percy," Ron said.
Ron's wand in his hand, walked with Bill and Charlie out of the curtain. Ron spotted the shield charms that were going up. Ron took the middle with the coffin to his left hand. Bill in front, Fred behind. Charlie, Ginny, and George took the other. Shacklebolt was to Ron's right.
"Up," Arthur said.
Ron lifted, as did the rest. A tradition to not use levitation, the group carried the coffin down the cleared path in the middle. Ron's eyes that glanced about, the astonishment of seeing him by many after the tarnish to the reputation. Ron was a Weasley, one of this brood, carrying their own along the path.
"Anybody try to give him a canary creame puff?" Ginny asked.
Over the crest, past the pillar, to the open grave, and they set it down onto the straps. As soon as Ron stepped back, Ginny moved around and stood next to Ron. Flanking to either side, Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George, a force to be reckoned with.
"Today we return to the earth, Percy Weasley," Arthur said, "May his magic mingle with Molly's, and we'll all join him, eventually. Forgive us if we dilly dally and procrastinate for another century."
Winches that moved, this one done with magic, as the coffin lowered down into the dirt lined hole.
"Forgive me to not be next," Ron said.
Ron's wand out, the disillusionment over himself.
"Paranoid," Fred said.
"Dinner?" Ginny asked.
"Where?" Ron said, "It's likely about to be inspected."
Ron stepped away as Colin came over to her. Ron felt the other bump, the bushy hair, of Hermione.
"We could—" Hermione started.
"Lower the risk for their dinner," Ron said.
Ron stepped her back from the party, turned to Hermione. Ron's hands to her shoulders. Still golden furred, Snuffles sat nearby.
"Where to?" Ron asked, as he pulled out the Portkey and activated it.
Hermione held on, the jerk behind the navals, pulled away.
"You've got a family," Hermione said, "I don't."
"I'd rather not lose them," Ron said.
Grass beneath their toes, the breeze across their skin, the coolness beneath the clouds above. Around them, the green of the trees budding out, the skyline with the recognizable outlines.
"New York," Hermione said.
"Suppose we could go three days here," Ron said.
Hermione grinned, kissed him.
Saturday morning, Dumbledore stood in the living room, the hands that trembled on the cane.
"I appreciate you letting me spend the night in the armchair," Dumbledore said.
Little Edward crawled on the floor. Dumbledore went over to the table, sat with The Daily Prophet.
"Sometimes it's better to leave people be," Arthur said, in the kitchen.
"I had hoped that Ronald would have loitered," Dumbledore said.
"As far as I can figure," Arthur said, "They've chosen to hide in plain sight…travel the world, a day or two, here or there."
"Sound idea until others catch on," Dumbledore said.
Dumbledore read the latest casualties, nine in Mexico, two in Luxembourg.
"That shark shows how varied their travel can be," Arthur said.
"I can only imagine the sight," Dumbledore said.
"Fred's checkup turned into a swim lesson," Arthur said, "It shows how much risk they're getting into."
Arthur brought over the bacon and eggs, the toast, and set them down.
"How little they ask for help," Dumbledore said.
"Sure it's the same with teaching," Arthur said, "The better we do our jobs, the less they lean on us. Part of the process, them letting go before they soar. However, keep the porch light on so they know they have options."
Arthur worked on the breakfast too. Dumbledore wondered how Harry and his friends were getting on.
Cold and damp breeze over the Seeker who stood on the stone edifice, the spray of the water, the sky always charmed to be dull and stormy despite the truth outside, the pocket of space without true existence in the world at large.
"I would not call Azkaban an ideal holiday," said the Keeper.
"We cannot stay," the Chaser said, "They're about an hour out."
"Curious to how the big oaf was holding up," Seeker said.
"Miss him?" the Chaser said.
"It was…entertaining," the Seeker said.
"Too many letters of support," the Keeper said, "We must control the narrative."
"Leave the windows open," the Seeker suggested.
Collective smiles to the three.
A rooster in the distance came through the open window above, as Albus Dumbledore worked the quill early Sunday. He'd already glanced at The Daily Prophet, four dead in Switzerland, three in Morocco, to supposed Potter Eaters.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Beloved Hogwarts Teachers Reinstated
After unjust and unfounded accusations, two teachers at Hogwarts have been reinstated per order of the Board of Governors.
"Attempted murder?" McGonagall said, "That's never unfounded—with what they've accused Mr. Potter—"
"Hypocrisy is their preferred tongue," Dumbledore said.
A blue owl dropped a letter to Dumbledore's fingers.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Be advised, riot in progress in Azkaban. Efforts are being made to quell it.
McGonagall's eyebrows raised.
"That's a first," McGonagall said.
"First in a long time," Dumbledore said, "Curious to how much the Ministry's cut back in the interests of tax breaks."
Ron woke in the bed Monday morning, the mirrors around him and above him, enough to see her stir next to him.
"Morning," Ron said, as he wondered what the day had in store.
"Not going to propose banging?" Hermione asked.
"Want me to?" Ron asked.
Hermione snorted.
"I know I can, you know you can," Ron said, "Sometimes…nice to know we don't have to either."
Ron rolled, stood, and stretched.
"Harry?" Hermione asked.
"Promised to meet up," Ron said.
"Haven't asked?" Hermione asked.
"Nope," Ron said.
Ron went for the door.
"Coming?" Ron asked.
Hermione followed, down the steps, into the living room, where Mr. Arthur Weasley was at the table with breakfast and The Daily Prophet.
"Nice of you two to show," said Arthur.
"One night here or there is fine," Ron said as he sat at the the table, "Guessing you got searched Friday."
Hermione worked into some oatmeal, while Ron worked into the bacon and eggs from the cauldron.
"And Saturday," Arthur said, "And yesterday, surprised you managed to stay up so late."
"Time zones," Ron said, now adjusted to the reasoning, "We were five hours behind, figured it best to catch up."
"Oh," Ginny said as she came out of the lavatory, drying her hair, "Not my imagination?"
"You imagined me?" Ron asked.
"Bad dreams," Colin said, two steps behind Ginny, also drying his hair.
"Came because otherwise how'd we know about the latest against us?" Hermione asked.
Ron spotted it the article, the weekly tally.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Problem Solver
Face it Wizarding World, it's time to vote with your purse, express your dissatisfaction with the vileness that has crept back into our lives. You thought the Boy Who Lived was your salvation, you wish that were true but know it's not. We need to banish this blemish and disease from our lives, to return to the wonderful world of magic we all know and love.
Eximo Macula is proud to help administer these rewards for removal of known threats to the wizarding community.
Harry Potter, the Boy Who Shouldn't Have Lived. 1,349K galleons.
Ronald Weasley, Kiss Up King. 1,038K galleons.
Hermione Granger, Wannabe Dark Queen. 691K galleons.
Gia Prescott, Muggle Cock Holster aka Potter's pet. 446K galleons.
Rita Skeeter, Quill Slaughterer. 6.4k galleons.
Bonus of 20,000 galleons per relation or friendship severed.
Removal of these problems would be greatly appreciated. All wagers and contributions can be sent to "Bye Bye". To claim a reward, submit relevant documentation.
"Protest to Finnigan," Ron said to Ginny, "Tell Hermione ought to be worth more than me, have him adjust these numbers."
"Ta," Hermione grumbled.
"But we're all worth more," Ron said to Hermione.
"I suggest you table conversation about the bounty on your future wife's head," Arthur said.
"Split it with you," Ron said to her.
"Better to focus on later," Hermione said.
Ginny worked into cauldron cakes across from Ron, while Colin ate into the waffles. Ron wondered how Harry was getting along.
Harry apparated with Gia into the clubhouse of Puddlemere United. Harry went for the counter, served out some cauldron cakes, some bacon, eggs, and brought them over to the table. Harry poured on the syrup, ate into one of the fluffy goodness.
"No chance at a house any time soon?" Gia asked.
"Nope," Harry said, "Sorry, wish we could—but what else do we lose when that gets attacked? Staying still is a habit, so unless it's a very good hiding spot, we gotta stay on the move."
Harry worked on the bacon, grabbed The Daily Prophet on the table.
"Know it seems paranoid," Harry said, "Except they are out to get us, and if we stop, they pounce."
Harry carved into a fried egg, ate it.
"I'm out of better ideas," Harry said, "You complained when I tried suicide, complaints when we sheltered ourselves into a house without leave, now complaints about staying on the move. Never mind…" Harry scanned the paper. "Mali and Venezuela yesterday."
"Sorry," Gia said.
Harry stood, crouched next to her.
"You wondered why I took so long to bang," Harry said, "We're living the nightmare, and my first task is keeping you alive—I was even bitten by a shark doing so."
Gia snorted, sighed.
"I do love you," Harry said.
Harry leaned over, kissed her.
"All we can do with the mess right now?" Harry said, "Try making the most of it, keep banging around the world until Dumbledore pulls something new out of his hat, something to make these problems go away."
Harry stood, motioned for her hand, and she stood.
"That ought to be soon, right?" Gia asked.
"I want them over with too," Harry replied, and their lips pressed. "Healer first—bang on the pitch?"
Down the steps, into the locker room, and the turn into the empty examination room.
"Suppose you want me to…" Harry stood on the scale.
Gia grinned.
"First we have your new set of scars," Notley said.
Harry spied them in the mirror, the now familiar ones across his abdomen, back across his thighs, where the mouth had come down.
"You have good protective magic in you," Notley said.
"Seemed rather sharp," Harry said.
"Would've killed a muggle," Notley said, "You come out with scars."
Harry snorted.
"Heal them out?" Notley asked, "Or, make them public?"
"Today?" Harry said, "I'd like to keep them…" He glanced at Gia. "A reminder of what I'll risk to save you."
"I can hold off until camp," Notley said, "After that, it's in your official medical record, if you keep them."
"Make them permanent," Harry said.
Notley reached up into the cupboard, brought down a clear red liquid in the cup.
"Drink," Notley said.
Harry about wanted to gag on it, however, drank it.
"Got about a week before its irreversible," Notley said.
"Ta," Harry said.
Notley lifted the chart. Pen to the left hand, he jotted down numbers while tape measure moved along Harry's side. Harry watched the yellow metal tape dance, go up, down.
"Well?" Harry asked.
"Keep eating," Notley said, "Whatever else goes on, focus on eating like you've clearly been."
Harry focused sharper to Notley's eyes.
"You understand the damage that was done?" Notley said, "You're not even a month of hearty eating, versus a lifetime of abuse."
"Bad news?" Gia asked.
"Opposite," Notley said, "I'm seeing a quarter inch."
"Wait, what?" Harry stammered.
"Since I first measured you," Notley said, "You've recovered a quarter inch. Keep it up."
"Oh," Harry said.
"Your body's trying to recover," Notley said, "Keep feeding it, and enjoy practice."
Harry and Gia walked out, the hard left into the box. Harry grabbed a Nimbus 1000 and started for the grass.
"Gia!" came the shout.
A turn, Hermione in the box, the bushy brown hair.
"Been busy?" Hermione asked Harry.
"Not particularly," Harry said.
Hermione reached, hugged Harry.
"He's proud of those new scars," Gia said.
Hermione stepped back.
"Related to Puddlemere United denying a tiger shark showing up in the locker room?" Hermione asked.
"One moment," Harry said as the red hair stepped into the box.
Harry moved fast, about pinned Ron into the broom closet.
"November," Harry said, "It's November."
"What?" Ron sputtered.
"Our executions," Harry stated.
"No 'good morning, nice to see you'?" Ron asked.
"Good morning," Harry said, "Nice to see you."
Harry reached, held Ron tight, and released.
"Fred complained about his examination turning into a swim test," Ron said.
"Yeah, me," Harry said, "Tell you later all about it."
Ron grabbed a broom. Together, they stepped out onto the Quidditch pitch, and they mounted the brooms.
"Should've seen it," Hermione said to Gia, both laying on the pitch at Puddlemere United, "Fred pestering Ron for more details."
"Good idea to go separate ways?" Gia asked.
"Certainly to try," Hermione said, "I mean…things don't change if we don't."
"Diving was fun," Gia said.
Hermione watched as Ron caught the Quaffle, stood up on the broom, way above.
"We heard how it ended," Hermione said.
"That wasn't the diving's fault," Gia said, "No, we accidentally attracted an self–entitled arse that couldn't stand no for an answer. After baiting the sharks, pushed me in. Harry…"
Hermione didn't need the rest of the details, she already knew. Above, the smaller of their boys, Harry stood on the broom handle, the confidence he had as he conjured up three tennis balls.
"Is he…?" Hermione asked.
One florescent green moved, a second, and a third, as Harry tried to juggle the three, though quickly they flew off, fell to the grass pitch below.
"He dove in with Casey on his back," Gia said, "Activated the portkey, arrived here, with the shark in tow."
"And so…" Hermione started as the full understanding of what Fred had seen came to her. Hermione chuckled. "No wonder Fred was surprised."
"Fred stepped in," Gia said, "Took care of me until Harry could."
"Nice of him," Hermione said.
Above, the twins worked the bludger between them.
"Good morning ladies," said Oliver Wood as he walked onto the pitch, the broom that went between his legs. Oliver flew up.
"Any museums?" Hermione asked Gia.
"No," Gia said, "Did see Osaka Castle this morning, that's about it for that."
"Maybe separate was the better idea," Hermione said. Though she wondered if Harry would've done a couple with her along.
Harry's toes gripped the broom handle, half way from the pitch to the roof. Harry flicked the pink plastic knifes into the air, kept getting the blades on his fingers.
"You've been…distracted," said Coach Kline, as he hovered near Harry.
Harry dropped, gripped the broom as the bludger flew past. A swing, a pull, and Harry climbed back up. A summon to the blades, and he returned to the juggling.
"Question is," Harry said, "How distracted can I get?"
"Aw," Coach Kline said.
"I mean, yes," Harry said, "I'm supposed to catch the snitch. However, the audience, the team is here to play a game. So if I catch it at five minutes, that's a very short match. If, however, I'm aware of where it is, assured the other Seeker won't catch it, they get to play, and the crowd loves that."
"Interesting take," Coach Kline said, "How long should a match go? An hour? A day? A week?"
Harry snorted.
"Not to mention," Harry said, "This is fun to try. Suppose we could get a few sharks?"
"That was not the call I had expected," Coach Kline said.
Harry glanced at the eyes tracing his new scars.
"Duck," Harry said, kept juggling the blades though getting the sharpy side of them.
Coach Kline didn't, the bludger hit the side, rolled, caught himself.
"You're getting good there," Coach Kline said, "Noticing the bludger."
"I don't have much time to get better," Harry said, "Except I'm now homeless, so I can't exactly leave Gia at home to do her own pursuit, and I have to watch out for her. Know that's part of the gig, still, can't do practice like I did at the start as she's bored out of her mind."
Harry threw the plastic knives aside, they vanished. A drop, Harry straddled the broom, feet to the braces.
"Come up with some more crazy training ideas," Harry said, "Always sunny…next week, a blizzard or worse. Last time it was a shark…um…dragons breathing fire? Cornish pixies?"
Harry remembered that, the second year, the smirk.
"I like how you're thinking," Coach Kline said
"Definitely at camp," Harry said, "Before then…see if we can manage a couple days in a row…but Hermione… I'll think it over."
Harry dropped, dragged the broom with him. Spread eagle, the descent slowed, until it got close. Harry cast the broom aside, tucked, and rolled out of it. A summon, the Nimbus 1000 returned into his grip.
"Can we avoid dead drops?" Hermione asked.
"Suppose I could've apparated," Harry said, "But where's the fun in that?"
"Hold on," Gia said, the Canon SLR in her hands, "I'm not sure if…try this."
Harry stood still as she aimed, pressed the button.
"These tend to come out blurry," Gia said.
"You'd have to ask Colin," Hermione said.
"Likely charmed it," Harry said.
Ron came down.
"Still," Harry said, "In a line."
Harry took out his point and shoot, the levitation. Four of them together, the flash as it clicked, the film advanced. Harry stored the camera, put the broom into the closet, as Ron did the same with that Nimbus 1000.
"Notley cleared you?" Ron asked.
"Said I've gained a quarter inch," Harry said.
"Really?" Ron said, "Celebrate."
"I'll be a giant in time for the execution," Harry said.
"Make them kill you," Ron said, "Don't do it for them."
"I know," Harry said.
They went into the locker room.
"Where to?" Hermione asked.
"Check the mail?" Gia asked.
Ron went for the hip.
"Meant the regular post," Gia said.
Wands out, the disillusionment, and Harry held Gia. Ron and Hermione's hands to him as he focused. A thought, the disapparation, the apparation into living area, tight in size. Kristen on her back, on the sofa, rested half asleep with the bottle, and Paul on her stomach. Disillusionments that dropped.
Yip! Yip!
Blond hair, Snuffles transformed.
"Harry," Sirius said, "You've…had a little touch up done."
"Shark," Harry said.
"Harry, Gia," Kristen said as her eyes opened, "I forgot how tiring this is."
"They made you take holiday?" Gia asked.
"Got me figured out," Kristen said.
Harry reached, crouched, and stroked Paul's back, eyes that were still shuttered.
"Thought we'd check for post," Harry said.
Harry lifted Paul up, held him, and sat in the easy chair. Harry worked the back a bit.
"It's on the table," Kristen said.
Hermione went over.
"We got in some good diving," Gia said.
Harry found himself drifting asleep.
…
Ron went into the small conservatory with Sirius.
"Suppose we could resort to dyeing our hair too," Ron said.
"Blonde's given me a new lease on life," Sirius said, "Though the price on mine isn't as high as yours."
"Makes life…difficult," Ron said, "Can't walk in Diagon Alley… not for long in Britain. Half the time we don't know where we'll end up. Harry started this morning in Japan…eight hours ahead, so it's almost bedtime there, yet we might be in the states tonight."
"That would mess with things," Sirius said.
"Whole planet is a bit tougher to keep an eye out for us," Ron said, "We'll see how long that works."
Hermione entered, and Ron kissed her.
"Kristen's getting…" Sirius said.
Ron and Hermione glanced at the letter on the table, the threat, the mark of that group.
…
Gia shuffled through the small collection of photographs, like Harry in the scuba gear beneath the water, and Harry standing next to the stuffed bear; showed each and every one to Kristen, both on the sofa.
"Having the adventure," Kristen said.
Gia glanced over at the armchair, Paul's head turned, asleep on Harry, with Harry's eyes shuttered too.
"I hope what he's heard is untrue," Gia said, "That Harry's going to be executed by…by him."
"You're on the run," Kristen said.
"One bad judgment and we're caught," Gia said, "He's taking it seriously, trying to make this into a honeymoon. Even if the rumor's a lie, I don't think we'll regret taking the time—I'm not."
Both took a few minutes, watched as Harry slept.
"Disgusts me how they're trying to slaughter a sweet boy," Kristen said.
"He dove into shark infested waters to save me," Gia said, "He's proud of those scars, asked the doctor to make them permanent."
Kristen snorted. Kristen went through a couple of the out of focus pictures.
"They're from the other camera," Gia said, as she pulled out the Canon SLR, "They recommended it."
"Seems good," Kristen said as she lifted it, "But takes some learning. If you want, stop by when Avril is in the station, see if she can teach you what you need."
"Bear?" Ron asked as he stepped into the living room, .
"Seth's," Gia said, "Remember him from our ski holiday? His father's part of the Montana Militia." Gia turned to Kristen. "That's the other good thing about this world traveling, finding that not everybody is out to get us, people skeptical to what's being published."
"Be careful, some groups can get a bit sketchy," Kristen said.
"As opposed to the lot placing money on our heads?" Ron asked.
"Speaking of whom," Hermione said, "We shouldn't loiter here. It's nice seeing you, but Sirius explained enough, and I know Harry wouldn't want to put you in jeopardy."
"He's…" Gia said, "We woke up in Japan, that's eight hours ahead."
Gia stood, she knew where this was heading.
"Wish I could say you were safe here," Kristen said.
"For an hour or three, sure," Gia said.
"Richard gets followed," Sirius said, "Nothing serious, yet. I'll be watching."
"Um…" Ron said as he lifted Paul, moved the sleeping kid to Kristen. "Hermione, somewhere east so we're not standing out with an early room check in."
Ron lifted Harry into a fireman carry.
"You don't know where you'll be staying?" Kristen asked.
"Not until we get there," Gia said, "Even we can't betray ourselves."
Hermione activated the Portkey. Ron and Gia held on.
"Until later," Sirius said.
Jerk behind the naval, Gia, was pulled away with Ron and Hermione, Harry asleep over Ron's shoulder.
They stumbled, in the middle of the intersection of five roads that met, the warm air that met them beneath the fair skies above, and the car that skidded to a stop.
"English," Ron said as he turned around, Harry docile on the shoulder, "Mixed with…"
"This way," Hermione said, "There."
"Sorry," Ron said to the man behind the wheel.
All three of them walked around, to the small curbs between the lanes, over to the bank on the corner. Hermione went up to the ATM.
"Mumbai!" Hermione shouted.
"Formerly known as Bombay," Gia said.
"What'd Harry do?" Ron asked.
"You know how he can get," Gia said, "It catches up. Today… maybe it was the sushi."
"Raw fish?" Ron said, "After shark he wanted a bit more?"
"Something like that," Gia said, her hand that felt Harry up on Ron's shoulder, and heard the snores.
Ron's stomach growled as Hermione returned.
"It's always a guess," Hermione said.
"Hotel first," Ron said, "Food second."
Hermione nodded. A short walk, a road back, they found a smaller place, a hostel, and entered. Hermione went to the counter, paid out, and took the key. Up the steps, to the floor above, to the room.
"Cozy," Gia said as they entered, the small thing, though the window was open.
Ron set Harry down on the bed, and the snores continued.
"Sometimes we need it," Gia said.
"With him out," Ron said to Hermione, "One of should stay, the other goes out for food. Gia, your choice to come or go."
"I'll stay," Hermione said, handing over some of the bank notes, "Remember—sample the local cuisine!"
Gia walked with Ron, back down, out the hostel.
"Not the first time?" Ron asked.
"Day of the shark," Gia said, "Philippines, the stadium, he went back to the Philippines to return Casey, and we went to Montana. Harry didn't make it, so Lynn saw to getting us to Seth's. I didn't last either."
"Seen Seth a bit," Ron said, "What's he like?"
"Harry trusts him," Gia said, "When Harry trusts, it's a good sign."
"Lynn?" Ron asked.
"A wizard who went to Ilvermorny," Gia said, "Served in the great war and the next, even fought Grindelwald."
"Oh," Ron said.
They found a buffet, entered.
"Casey?" Ron asked.
Gia took the tray, the styrofoam, and began to load up.
"Muggle we met for diving," Gia said, "Same story, make a friend."
"Harry's good at that," Ron said.
"His best lesson," Gia said.
Date: Sun Feb 18 07:49:00 2024