Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
-oOo-
Chapter 4
30 Mar 2024
-oOo-
August 12, 1996
Paris, France
Nathan was sniffing the air. They had heard a rumour that their targets may have been seen by some Aurors a few days ago. He was sent into the station to find out. Sanguini couldn't come out in the daylight and Bergan was trying to find any videos that might have been taken by the few Muggle cameras around the station. Nathan had been a squib that grew up the Muggle world, so knew what the half-elf was trying.
That had been a surprise when he had been approached by Bergan almost two years ago to join this little band of bounty hunters. Bergan's mother had been a muggle-born, with an apparent fetish for creatures, and had instructed her son all about Muggle society. Nathan was a natural tracker and had come to their attention when he had beat them to two marks. Sanguini pretending to be a 'reformed' vampire, using his connections in the Wizarding world to get them jobs like this, and to have contacts for leads.
With a potential payout of fifty-thousand galleons, the three of them were highly motivated to find these kids and return then 'unharmed'.
Nathan turned his nose up at that. He may not like to run with the packs around Fenrir Greyback or a few of the other more bloodthirsty alphas, but he did like a young girl at times, especially if she was still a virgin…
As he sniffed around, he caught the scent that bothered him when they found it at the shipyards in Portsmouth. It was an odd mix of dog and human. He knew he had smelt something like that before but couldn't remember what it was. They weren't werewolves or creatures, but it was a definite dog smell. It was also faint. If he had to guess, three or four days old. It wouldn't last much longer, or if a cleaning crew had come through, he wouldn't have found it.
Following the smell, he stopped at some restrooms before going down to the platform. The kids were being smart, using only Muggle transport, making it near impossible for them to track, unless you had unique skills like them.
A very pale figure was standing in the shade of the platform. "Did you find anything?"
"Just that they passed through. It smells like it's the girls time of the month to bleed," Nathan told the vampire.
The vampire sniffed. He bared his large front fangs for a moment. "All I smell is blood around me. It is intoxicating and distracting."
Nathan snorted. He bet the vampire was having a challenging time. They never hunted when on a job though.
Nathan watched as the platform became busy with people. He withdrew into the shadows with Sanguini. "They are traveling Muggle," he said to the vampire.
"Let's hope that Bergan finds something then. The scrying is not working. I need their blood," the vampire said.
"Malfoy said not to hurt them," the squeaky voice of their last member said, though he didn't look too bothered either way.
"I am not losing out of gold. We have eight more days to get the bonus. What did you find?" Sanguini enquired.
"We need to head south. They got on a train heading towards Valence," Bergan said.
"How far away is that?" Nathan asked.
"About three-hundred miles," Bergan said, looking up at the signs over the platforms.
Nathan scowled. "And where did they get off? That is a long way to go."
"They seem to be trying to get as far as they can, but don't have a destination in mind," Bergan commented and then started to walk away towards the main terminal.
"What makes you say that?" Sanguini questioned.
"The videos showed them looking at the boards for about ten minutes. I don't think they knew what they were looking for. They bought tickets for Le Mans, in the west, but jumped on a train when some Aurors started to follow them. I don't' think they meant to do that," the half-elf said.
"I smelt them on that platform," Nathan said.
"And that is the one the train for Valence left from."
"And where are we going?" Sanguini questioned.
"Valence. Do you have any contacts in that part of the country?" Bergan enquired.
"A few. We can see them once we get there," Sanguini replied.
"Good. Our portkey leaves in about eight minutes," Bergan informed them.
Nathan was happy that France didn't care if creatures like them used the public or magical transportation systems. Not like Britain.
-oOo-
Same day…
Geneva, Switzerland
Harry padded along besides Fleur and Jean-Paul. Fleur was in a modest brown dress suit with a small leather satchel over her left shoulder that screamed 'office worker' to him. He noticed many turned to look at her.
Her father, who was an imposing man. He may only be five and a half feet tall, but very was muscular with strong magical Aurora, like his wife and daughters. The man glared at many of the men and boys, who quickly looked away. Harry was going to have to learn how to copy that look to keep people from staring at Daphne.
She was right next to him, her flank often rubbing against his as they followed the father daughter pair through the rather large magical section of town. Apparently, Switzerland was a large trading and banking hub, and the Second Gnomish Bank was probably the wealthiest and busiest wizarding bank in Europe, if not the world. Fleur had only gone to the goblins because their reputation, mastery in ward weaving and curse breaking, and the many branches around the world, meaning she could transfer easily. The gnomes' main banks were in Switzerland, with branches elsewhere. The First Bank was the main deposit branch for vaults and as such and was in Geneva. Fleur said she wasn't sure what the Third Bank was for, but all business could, and usually did, go through the Second Bank.
Even if the gnomes didn't have a huge banking footprint, they dominated much of the magical world in trade and transportation. The large zeppelins in the distance where like nothing Harry had ever seen.
When they approached the Second Gnomish bank, he tried to compare it to Gringotts. Unlike the large marble structure that the goblins had in Diagon Alley that screamed opulence for the late sixteen hundreds, this place was much more modern, five times the size and twice as tall. Dozens of wizards and others were moving in and out of the bank even at half-past eight in the morning.
Inside, the lobby was large, with pink marble columns and a marble floor with the crest of the bank worked into it. Two dozen iron grill protected teller booths were on the wall opposite the entrance, a cubical area was off to the right and a few doors were on the right wall. Fleur went towards a door labelled 'Nur Angestellte' while Jean-Paul led them towards the cubicles and a small waiting area. People looked at them but didn't question the two dogs with Jean-Paul. There were many explanations in the wizarding world, and even if people suspected they might be Animagus, no one would know who they were unless they saw them transform… or knew their magic like Fleur.
Jean-Paul approached a podium with a small woman sitting on a high chair. She was plump with a kind face, blue eyes, light brown hair, dimples and stood maybe two feet tall. Harry had never seen a High Gnome before. They reminded him of a picture book he saw one time. She greeted Jean-Paul in what Harry thought might be German. After talking for a moment, he motioned for them to stand by a tall bush in a large pot. "She is calling for an account manager. We will be shown into a private room."
Harry and Daphne stood tall, acting like a show dog should, and waited patiently, even though Harry wanted to run and get away. He didn't like being around so many witches and wizards that could potentially identify them. How common could it be for a dog to have brilliant green eyes and a white lightning bolt shape on its forehead?
Daphne shifted just a bit closer, so their flanks were touching. It was comforting.
They only had to wait a few minutes before a man, not much taller than the woman that helped them, came up to them. He said something in German and they Jean-Paul past the cubicles and into an office. When the door closed, the man said, "I understand you only understand English?"
Harry looked up to Jean-Paul. "You and Daphne can change now. It will be safe."
Harry took a step and soon was holding Daphne's hand. Today he was in a nice suit that Jean-Paul had help him get and Daphne was in a green dress that was both elegant and proper for an office. "I can speak English and French, but Daphne only speaks English."
The man bowed. "Let me welcome you to the Second Gnomish Bank, Herr Potter. I am Senior Account Manager Meadowcroft. And who is your companion?"
"This is my betrothed, Daphne Greengrass," Harry said.
"Ah, yes, I was expecting that. The two of you have made quite a stir, if the papers are anything to go by," Meadowcroft said.
Harry stiffened and moved his hand to touch the tip of his wand. Jean-Paul must have caught the way they both were reacting. "Harry, Daphne, you are safe here and the gnomes will do nothing. This is neutral ground."
Meadowcroft spread his arms. "We do not involve ourselves in anything not of the gnomish nation or required by the ICW treaty. As you claim Frau Greengrass is your betrothed, I am to assume there is no foul play. Now, I understand you are pressed for time. What can the Gnomish Banks do for you?"
He motioned for them to take a seat.
He shared a quick look with Daphne, who made an exceedingly small nod of acceptance, then towards Jean-Paul, who motioned for Harry to talk. Harry turned to Meadowcroft, who was now sitting behind his desk with is hand folded over each other.
"We need a new bank. I don't trust the goblins and don't have anywhere else to try to convert my galleons to muggle money," he said.
Meadowcroft pursed his lips. "Tell me you did not use the exchange rate that the goblins offer."
Harry looked at the man questioningly. "There is a different rate?"
"The gnomes and puckwedgies in the MACUSA offer a rate comparable to the current gold prices. The goblins fleece their clients by pegging the rate to a hundred-fifty-three-year-old treaty. They make a killing off of each transaction and then try to blame the wizards for cheating them."
Harry made a disgusted face. Daphne questioned, "What is the current rate?"
Meadowcroft reached for a book on his desk, leafed through it for a moment and then took out an abacus. "I can offer thirty-two pounds, nine pence per galleon, or sixteen Swiss francs and four centums. That is with the banking and transfer taxes included."
Daphne sounded like she was choking while Harry balled his fists. "I exchanged thirty thousand galleon for only a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. You are saying I should have gotten almost a million?"
Meadowcroft was frowning. "I am sorry that you were taken like that, but there are reasons we recommend our clients to never bank with the goblins."
Jean-Paul put a hand on Harry's arm. "It is over and done with. If you wish to make your flight, you have only two hours or so left."
Harry took in a sharp breath, then let it out.
"Merlin, if father knew this," Daphne muttered.
Meadowcroft sat there silently. Harry let out a long breath. "We need to setup accounts. We need to be able to access both wizarding and Muggle money, but I have no idea where we plan to end up except, we are heading to Moracco after this. I also have a few properties around Europe that will need to be managed."
"That is no issue. I can contract out the services you need for property management, but that is not something we typically handle. We have a non-magical business side, unlike the goblins, and offer special bags that will give you the currency you need with the conversion rates that this bank offers. We also offer draft and checks. We are working on being able to link what the non-magicals call credit cards," the gnome said, as though it was something foreign to him, "but have not been able to at this time since that would require us being able to use computers, and as you know, electronics and magic do not mix well."
"Is that like the money pouches that Gringotts offers?" Daphne questioned. "My father has one but uses it sparingly."
Meadowcroft snorted in a dark mirth. "Yes, I am not surprised. The goblins usually charge a three percent fee for every time it is used. We here at the Second Gnomish bank have a much better offering. Here is a pamphlet, but I would recommend the international package, which would allow you to request any currency you need for only a quarter percent of the transaction, but it will cost you about eighty galleons a year. . It may be a little steep for some customers, but I ensure it is one of our most asked for services for those looking to travel. Our most cost-efficient ones are only about two galleons a year, but do not work outside of Europe and would be a three-quarters percent fee to exchange currency."
"Brilliant," Harry said, a smile coming over his face. If they could get one of these bags, then it would be easy for them to go wherever they wanted.
"Will we use them enough to justify a eighty galleons a year?" Daphne asked.
"That will allow for up to three bags on the same account," Meadowcroft said.
"Do it. I want a bag for Daphne and myself linked to my account," Harry said.
"Harry, I have my own funds," Daphne told him.
"Daph, we both know that I can do this and won't even notice it. You can pay me back later if you want. Besides, in less than a month we can be married, then it wouldn't matter anyways," he said, his cheeks brightening a little thinking of how Fleur had teased them about their wedding night last night.
She looked into his eyes before giving him a small smile.
"That can be done. Will you want checks and drafts as well?" Meadowcroft asked.
"We should," Daphne agreed.
"And how much are you looking to deposit today?"
Harry took his rucksack out of a pocket, then when to pull his wand before pausing. "Can I use my wand?" he asked, used to how goblins reacted to magic.
"There is no ban on that in this bank, as long as you do nothing to steal or harm another," Meadowcroft said.
Harry grinned, liking the gnomes so much better. He took his wand, tapped the bag and it grew. He then moved behind the chair and took out the eight trunks that had been in it. "I don't know the exact count. I didn't want to pay the goblins for the statements, but I'm fairly sure it's more than two million galleons, sickles and knuts, not to mention jewellery, jewels, heirlooms, some armour, weapons, books… I honestly don't know everything. Daphne and I were in a rush to close our vaults," Harry said a little sheepishly.
Meadowcroft looked amused. "Yes, I have heard others say the same when they are trying to leave Gringotts or one of the other clan banks. I can extend an account worth a hundred thousand galleons until we can count and catalogue everything. I will assume you want a vault as well?"
"Please," he said.
"For a hundred and fifty galleons we will count and appraise everything. It will be a fifty-galleon charge to open the vault and I will prepare a statement if anything needs restoration or special storage. Once the manifest is done, we also offer auction or sale services," Meadowcroft said.
"Is that a good deal," Harry questioned, feeling weary now at what Meadowcroft had told them about the goblins.
"It's a little steep but given the number of items you look to have, I think it's reasonable," Jean-Paul told him.
"Fine," Harry agreed. "Oh, and make sure there is room for more. Once I notify Gringotts, they are going to need to transfer over any valuables they find in the properties I am closing down."
"Very well, Herr Potter. And you, Frau Greengrass, how much do you have to deposit, and would you like a vault?"
"Wouldn't I need a vault? Where would my gold go?" she asked confused.
"The gnomes keep excellent records of accounts. We use the gold you have to invest and make loans. We have been averaging about a five percent return for our standard account holders the last few years, and nearly nine percent for preferred clients," Meadowcroft informed her.
Daphne looked a little shocked.
"Will my money be invested?" Harry asked.
"I thought that to be understood," the gnome said.
"The goblins of Gringotts don't return any investment profits unless contracted and they prefer to let the gold sit in vaults," Jean-Paul said.
Meadowcroft snarled. "And they wonder why gnomes do so much better? Herr Potter, I would recommend to opening your funds to investments, and you Frau Greengrass. How much would you be depositing?"
Daphne took out her trunk and a booklet that had been in her trust vault. "Seventy-six thousand and six-hundred and twenty-three galleons, four thousand seven hundred and four sickles and just over eight thousand knuts. I do have a few pieces of jewellery from my grandmother I would like protected."
"You can keep them in my vault," Harry offered her.
"I can have them appraised with Herr Potter's items," Meadowcroft offered.
"Yes, please," Daphne answered.
As they started to fill out the paperwork, Harry was looking at one of the sections. "Excuse me, Meadowcroft."
"Yes, Herr Potter?"
"I see a section here for the account manager and commissions," Harry said.
"That is filled out by the bank. Once your account is established and we know the number of resources you have, an account manager that is skilled in the amounts you have will be assigned. The standard commission is usually ten percent of any profits," Meadowcroft informed him.
"Can I choose my manager?" Harry enquired.
"You can, if they are certified," Meadowcroft said, sitting a little taller, as though he expected Harry to name him.
He cast a sidelong glance to Jean-Paul. "Would Fleur Delacour be certified?"
Meadowcroft blinked at him. "I'm sorry, I don't know any account manager by that name."
"She just started today. She is Jean-Paul's daughter. I am willing to offer up to twenty percent of the profits if she can," Harry told them.
"Harry, that is too much," Jean-Paul protested.
"Jean-Paul, you and your family are about the only people that have ever helped me and never asked anything from me. I would trust Fleur with our money. I don't mean any offense, Account Manager Meadowcroft, but even the goblins used me," Harry stated.
Meadowcroft leaned back. "If Frau Delacour is qualified, I will ask. Just so you know, a quarter of the commission goes to the bank if you are trying to offer her a better deal."
"That's fine," Harry said. "I want Fleur Delacour."
"I would like her as well," Daphne said.
Meadowcroft nodded after a moment. "I will talk with the bank manager."
"Thank you."
When they were ready to leave, they were both given a money pouch. Harry got a thick booklet of vouchers to use in the wizarding world, and cheques to use in the Muggle world. Once they were bonded, he was told Daphne would be able to use them as well.
"May I ask where you are going so I can forward any missives I need too?" Meadowcroft asked.
Harry looked the Jean-Paul. Jean-Paul said, "Account Manager Meadowcroft, I know my family has been a customer of the bank for a long time. I was hoping to get a mailbox for these two."
Meadowcroft nodded. "Are you looking for a standard mailbox, or one that can handle packages?"
"What are you talking about?" Daphne queried.
"The gnomes use the old vanishing cabinet enchantments to make small satchels or boxes that can transmit letters or small packages. We have one that Gabrielle will bring to Beauxbatons. I think it would be prudent for you and Daphne to have one, at least to be able to communicate with the bank," Jean-Paul told her.
"How much?" Harry asked.
"A simple satchel only able to handle a few letters is fifteen galleons, eight sickles, and will cost eight galleons a year to maintain. A satchel or box able to vanish packages up to a half meter in length and width by a quarter meter high will cost two-hundred and seventeen galleon, twenty sickles, and cost twenty-eight galleons a year to maintain," Meadowcroft told them.
Harry shared a look with Daphne. "We will take one of the package ones. Can it be a satchel?" she replied.
"Would you like the bank or someone else to hold the other one?" Meadowcroft asked as he opened a draw and pulled out a form.
Harry looked to Jean-Paul. "Would you mind receiving our mail and handling anything that needs it if we can't be reached?"
Jean-Paul nodded. "It is the least my family can do for you."
"I will note it," Meadowcroft said. "If you give me about ten minutes, I will be right back."
When they received the satchel, Jean-Paul looked at his watch. "We should be off if we are to make it to the aerodrome on time."
"Are you going to Arratia Fields?" Meadowcroft enquired.
"We are," Harry said.
Meadowcroft grinned. "My brother is an airship captain. If you want, we offer portkeys to the airfield for only a sickle."
Harry looked to Daphne. They were trying to avoid this type of travel but had already taken one to get to Geneva. After a quiet conversation, Daphne nodded. As dogs, they followed Jean-Paul to a room next to the tellers. He held out the rope and they grabbed it with their mouths.
They were dropped out onto the lawn of a hill on the outskirts of Geneva. A large iron work tower stood there with two large zeppelins attached high over their heads. Harry stared at the open ramps at the nose of the blimps and the steam powered robots moving things into one and out of another.
Daphne was equally surprised, which earned a chuckle from Jean-Paul. "The gnomes are probably well known for their banking, but they are true masters of technomancy. You will have to turn back to pass through the boarding agents. I will say my goodbyes from here."
Harry turned back. Daphne moved to his side, and he wrapped an arm around her waist. "Jean-Paul, thank you," Harry said, holding out his hand.
The man took it and clasped it in both of his. "I should be thanking you. I still have two daughters because of what you did. You can use our house in Morocco for as long as you need. If you ever need to come back, you and Daphne will always have a room and do not be afraid to call for me or my family for help."
Daphne moved forward and kissed the man on either cheek. "Thank you, Jean-Paul. We will keep in touch and let you know if we need anything. If you need us, we will make sure you know where we are," Daphne promised.
"If you need witnesses for your bonding, you know who to contact," Jean-Paul told them with a grin before he stepped back and then disappeared.
Harry took Daphne's hand and looked towards the giant airships. "Think it will be like a broom?" he asked.
Daphne giggled. "Do you have to compare everything to quidditch? I doubt it though."
Harry grinned at her before they moved off towards the ticket counter.
-oOo-
August 13, 1996
Melbourne, Australia
Hermione sat on the loveseat that looked out the window onto the small lawn and the road outside the house. It had become 'her spot' in the few weeks they had been here. At first, she had been livid at her parents, now she was feeling depressed.
Deep down she understood why her parents had done it, but they didn't understand what her friends meant to her and that she was willing to fight to keep them safe. Her parents running from the war that was starting was something she fully agreed with. Her running was something that she felt deeply bothered by. She had never run from adversity before, and she didn't want too now.
As she looked out the window and the darkening sky, her thoughts felt just as stormy as the real one about to bear down on them.
She hadn't been able to say goodbye. Harry hadn't responded to any of the letters she had sent him before her parents got her on the plane to Australia. She had abandoned Harry once last summer when Albus Dumbledore had told her too, and she wouldn't do it again. It had destroyed everything for her.
She had thought Harry had finally started to develop feelings for her before the fiasco of the third task. She had even kissed his cheek and he had flushed when she left him on the platform at the end of the year. A few days later, the headmaster had visited and told her it would be best if she didn't send him any more letters, a safety precaution. She hadn't wanted to, but it was the headmaster.
By the time they had gotten back to school, Harry was ignoring them. It took until almost Christmas to bring their relationship back to the close friends they once were, but she could tell any romantic feelings Harry might have had for her were gone. They also weren't as close as they used to be.
He had grown quieter than before, more withdrawn, and defiant towards Umbridge. She didn't like the Toad, but Harry had a hatred in his eyes towards Umbridge that Hermione had no reference for. He had spent many detentions with the woman early in the year, but not even Snape got the same look of hatred that Harry gave the toad.
Then there were all the times he was just gone. He made excuses that he was training with Snape and Dumbledore. He told them he was getting special lessons, but he wouldn't say what they were. Then Harry had run off to the Ministry of Magic at the end of year. A big adventure like that wasn't unusual at the end of the year for them. What was unusual was that Harry went on his own. Umbridge also disappeared that night, and never came back.
The next day, Harry was in the hospital wing, the Daily Prophet was falling over itself about You-Know-Who being in the ministry and the deaths of Sirius, Dedalus Diggle and two others thought to be Death Eaters, but without masks and unknown to the DMLE.
She was thinking of how Harry had withdrawn from them more before school let out when someone cleared their throat. Hermione didn't look towards the door of the sitting room, instead putting her cheek on her hand and watching the edge of the storm blow rain onto houses a few streets over. Soon it would be on them.
The person cleared their throat again. After a moment, a woman said, "Are you going to give us the silent treatment all summer? We need to decide which school you are going to and get the letters out today."
Hermione didn't say a word. Unlike her normal self, she hadn't looked at anything her parents had given her. She had a choice between two schools, one on the outskirts of Melbourne, where they now lived, or a boarding school up the coast by Brisbane. She didn't want to go to either one if it wasn't Hogwarts and where her friends were.
"Hermione, you have to talk with us. If you don't decide, your father and I will," her mother said, sounding exasperated.
"You already make all the decisions for my life, so have at it," she said rather bitterly, sounding like a petulant child. Hermione wasn't sure she had ever been like this.
Her mother sighed. "You know we had to leave. Your professor told us what was happening, and we couldn't risk you getting hurt or caught up with those terrorists."
Hermione made a disgusted face. She was not pleased with Dumbledore. He had 'informed' her parents about the dangers, and then it had come out about how many times she had been hurt and some of the adventures that Harry, Ron and her had gotten up to. Two weeks later they had been on a plane to Australia. Apparently, her parents had been thinking about it and were just waiting for her to be done with school. This gave them the excuse.
Hermione didn't say anything.
"Please stop sulking and come and look at the brochures," her mum requested. "If you had done this when I told you, we could have visited both schools."
Hermione just put her chin on her now folded arms to watch the rain splatter on the window. She didn't want to talk about it. For once, she didn't care about her education.
"Alright, that is enough, young lady! Get off that couch and look through this information. I must make a few calls and then we are sitting down to talk about this," her mother demanded.
"I'm not going," she said quietly. She wanted to run, but didn't know where to go, or who to go to. She didn't trust Dumbledore anymore. She couldn't get to Harry. She couldn't get to any wizarding pub or anything, she had no clue where the Australian Ministry or any magical community was. She had checked, the school letters said she would be shown around once accepted, and none of her books had anything on Australia. She had only been told they were leaving England forever once she was on the plane.
As she watched the storm, there was a crack from outside. She started, looking around wildly. A muggle probably would have thought it a clap of thunder. Hermione knew differently.
She spotted two figures walking down the street. One was in a battered leather travel coat. He was hobbling as he walked, a walking stick in one hand, a wand in the other. Even from here, she could recognize his scared and grizzled face.
Next to him was a younger woman with blonde hair and a fit build. The way she walked had Hermione thinking she might be an Auror as well.
She swallowed. "MUM! I need my wand!" Hermione yelled. She knew Moody but had been sure no one knew where they were.
"Hermione, I'm on the phone," her mother said back. "I'm sorry about that. I would like an appointment before the end of the month."
Hermione ran into the kitchen to look for her mum's pocketbook. It was on the table next to her. When they had taken her wand, her mother had put it there. Rushing to the table, she grabbed the bag and upended it.
"HERMIONE! What are you doing… no. No. Let me call you back," her mother said flustered. She pressed the button on the cordless phone. "What are you doing?"
"There are wizards outside coming to the house," Hermione told her. "Where is my wand!"
Her mother's eyes widened. "You mean them?"
"I don't know! My wand, mum!"
"It's in the safe," her mother said.
Hermione gave out an aggravated scream before a knock came at the door. Hermione stopped, looking towards the front door. "Hermione, who did you see?"
"Professor Moody and someone else I saw at that place last summer, but I don't know their name," Hermione said.
Her mother frowned. "We told you not to tell anyone."
"I didn't! Well, only in two letters to Harry," she said defiantly.
"When did you send off letters to that boy?" The knock came again. "We will talk about this later."
"Mum, you can't answer the door. I don't know if it's really them," Hermione said.
Her mother handed her the phone. "The number for the police is here. If anything happens, call them. Otherwise, I am going to talk with them."
"Mum! You have to trust me on this."
"We did trust you, Hermione, and you didn't tell us anything that was really going on at that school and back in England," her mother said, giving her a parent look saying she was still in trouble.
Hermione grasped the phone and stood just inside the doorway to the kitchen. Her mother greeted them and a moment later Moody was stomping down the hallway to the kitchen. She had a knife in her hand now. The man gave her an unsettling smile. "Nice instincts, girl, but you should have your wand."
"My mum took it because of what you all told her," Hermione said venomously. "How do I know you are Alastor Moody?"
The man chuckled. "Constant Vigilance. If you need, I taught you how to teach a wizard to respect you last year at Headquarters."
Hermione blushed a little. He had taught her a charm that would shrink someone's willie so they couldn't get it up. Mrs Weasley had been livid with him.
Her mother gave her a look. "Something else I need to know about?"
"No," she quickly said.
Moody laughed. "Now, lass, we have a few questions and then we'll get out of your hair."
"Are you taking me with you? I want to go back to Hogwarts," she stated.
"That is up to your parents. We want to know what you know about Harry," Moody said.
"What about Harry? I haven't heard anything from him since we left him at the platform while he was waiting for his relatives," Hermione said.
The man focused both eyes on her. She glared back at him. After a moment, the man made a face. "Merlin's sack, you're telling the truth."
"Why do you want to know about Harry? What's happened to him? Is he alright?" she rapidly demanded.
"He's done a runner. We were hoping you knew where he was," the other one said.
"He's what!"
"Hermione, are you hiding your friend somewhere?" her mother asked, already assuming the worst.
Hermione snarled at her mother. "No, mum. I'm not hiding my friend. Where is Harry?"
"You haven't seen any of the papers?" Moody asked.
"I have no clue where any of the magical stores or anything are around here," Hermione snapped at him. "I have to go back. I have to find Harry."
Moody took out some papers from his pocket. "You may want to look at these first and tell me what you know."
She grabbed the papers and started to frantically go through the headlines and photos. Her mouth dropped open. After a moment, she looked up, "Harry was kidnapped by Daphne Greengrass?"
Moody grinned. "That is what the ministry is saying. What do you know about them dating or getting betrothed?"
She blinked stupidly for a moment. "Harry isn't dating Daphne Greengrass. He hates all snakes. And why would he be betrothed… oh, bloody hell!" The way Harry had been acting all last year suddenly made so much more sense.
She leaned against the counter.
"What is it, lass?" Moody pressed.
She just shook her head. Harry had been distancing himself because he didn't need them anymore. All those times he had avoided them, gone to those lessons… "Did Dumbledore train Harry last year?"
Moody's good eye narrowed. "Albus said he was too afraid to get close to Potter with how the ministry was treating them."
Hermione closed her eyes. Harry may have been falling for her fourth year, but last year he had been falling for someone else. She was sure of it as she went through everything in her memories. He didn't want them to know to probably protect her. It all made sense.
Hermione put a hand to her forehead. A tear dripped down her cheeks.
"Lass, what do you know?"
"Nothing," she gave a disbelieving laugh that sounded more like a sob.
She had been so upset at Dumbledore, thinking he was trying to keep her away from Harry. The old man had gotten the wrong girl to chase away.
"It doesn't sound like nothing," Moody said.
For once, her mother stuck up for her. "If my daughter said it was nothing, then that is what it is."
Moody didn't look too believing. "You knew nothing about Greengrass or Harry wanting to run?"
"I'm not surprised he wanted to run," Hermione said.
"What do you mean by that?" the woman asked.
Hermione just shook her head. After a moment, she said, "I just want you gone."
Moody regarded her for a few. When he was convinced she didn't know anything about this, he reached into a pocket. "We found that Fudge put a mail redirect on everything from and too Potter. These are all the letters."
She looked up, her eyes narrowing. "Why are they all open?"
"The ministry was reading them, and we need to find Potter," Moody told her.
Hermione snorted. "If Harry's decided to run, I doubt you will find him."
"What do you mean?" Moody asked.
She didn't say anything else. Moody looked to be getting annoyed before huffing. "If you think of anything, send a letter to this address. I'll respond within forty-eight hours."
When they left, Hermione fell onto the floor of the kitchen. The newspapers fell into an unorganized heap. She looked at the six letters from Harry, just tossing the few she had send him across the room in an angry way.
Her mother came back in to see her utterly defeated daughter reading a letter. Tears were streaming down her cheeks. Her mother was frowning at her. "Are you alright?"
Hermione shook her head. "He thinks we abandoned him for good this time."
All the anger her mother had at the wizards and her seemed to fade to see her daughter so distraught. After a moment, she said, "Maybe it's time that you tell me what really happened and what is going on?"
Hermione snorted through her tears. "Why now? You and dad haven't listened or believed me before. Why don't you go ask the headmaster? He already told you," she replied bitterly.
Her mother frowned. "I think that we didn't get the right story," her mother said after a moment.
Hermione gave a dark chuckle before she ducked her head to put it between her legs. "It doesn't matter anymore."
Her mother put a reassuring hand on her arm. "Hermione, I promise I will listen. Whatever that was was not right."
When she looked up, her eyes were red, and tears were freely flowing down her cheeks. "He's left mum. He loves someone else."
"Oh, Hermione," her mother said, taking her in for a hug.
-oOo-
The same day…
Rome, Italy
Daphne was leaning against Harry as they stood by a window watching the world below them grow as the airship approached a tower on a hill a few miles from Rome. The old city spread out before them. Harry's arms were around her waist.
"Are you sure we have time?" Daphne asked.
"We are here for the next eight hours. You said you wanted to see a few things. The gnomes have some taxis that can get around the city quickly," he said, going over what they had been told this morning. It was still early in the day and the airship would be leaving for Palermo, Sicily around nightfall.
As they approached the tower, Harry looked up to hear the clang of metal on metal. The gnomish automatons, robots moved by steam and driven by the gnomes, must be moving around and getting ready for them to dock. Harry thought what the gnomes did with technomancy to be wicked and found himself wishing he had taken runes and arithmancy, instead of divination. He didn't regret taking Care of Magical Creatures since he found he liked them, overall, and it had given him an advantage when they had started their Animagus training.
Others were starting to line up along the passage that led to the gangway door. Some would be getting off; others were looking to explore like Daphne and him. They both thought it safe since they had been on the run for nearly two weeks now and no one had found them. The close run in with the Aurors was just a fun story now.
The zeppelin shook some as it attached to the tower. They saw ropes shoot down to the large deck below them and automatons move to moor the ship. In less than ten minutes a gangway was being attached to the ship where the passengers were.
They were one of the first ones off. Daphne had to drag him along as Harry turned to see the prow of the zeppelin open. The cargo hold was immense, with large balloons taking up the upper half of the zeppelin. He thought they should be bigger, but magic could do a lot. A dozen automatons had begun a carefully choreographed dance of unloading and loading cargo.
Daphne laughed at him. "Come on. I want to see the coliseum and the Parthenon," she told him. In both the Muggle and magical worlds those old structures held some significance.
"Just a moment longer?" Harry asked, enthralled with the marriage of magic and technology, even if the technology was a hundred years or more out of date.
She moved in and kissed him on the cheek. "You can watch at our next stop."
Harry grinned at her. "Wicked," he said.
Outside the terminal a line of taxis driven by witches or wizards was waiting to take people around. For twenty galleons they were able to rent a taxi for the entire day. Like the Knight Bus, the cars popped around, zipped through traffic and miraculously found themselves at the front of a cue for any light or traffic circle. Daphne held onto his arm tightly while Harry teased her about it. He may not care for this form of travel, but to have her so close was well worth it.
In a mere five minutes they were being let out before the Coliseum. The driver, obviously Italian but able to speak English, leaned over the seat before they got out. "I am driver for the day. Just hold out wand and I will come."
"Thank you, Giaimo," Harry said, looking at the taxi licence hanging from the mirror.
"Go to line that says mago. Enjoy. Be careful of the ghosts," the man warned with a grin as they got out.
Daphne shuttered. "As long as they are better than the Bloody Baron. He always gave me the creeps," Daphne said in barely a whisper.
There was a line of people waiting by a ticket booth. Harry noticed two lines. The one to the right was far shorter and a sign in blue paint above the booth said 'Mago/ Ammaliatrice'.
Daphne held his hand as she looked up at the old stone building. "Can you believe that Muggles built this?" she asked.
Harry pulled on her hand. "Not so loud until we get inside. Didn't wizards helped too?" he asked.
"Only afterwards, if the old histories are right," she said. She was as enamoured with the old structure as Harry had been with the airship.
Once inside, the tour guide was mostly speaking Italian, so they just wandered through, reading the plaques, which translated to English when they tapped it with their wands. It wasn't until they entered the old arena area where they saw the ghosts.
The muggles hadn't rebuilt the old arena floor, so the old cells and rooms that were underneath could be seen. All the magicals saw a dirt covered floor that shown an eerie blue. Dozens of old gladiators and even a ghost of a tiger, were fighting around the ring. Silvery blood, a sword through the chest of another and one with an arm just barely attached had most of the wizards and witches around them gasping or looking a little sick.
"Dear Merlin, that is worse than the Bloody Baron and Nearly headless Nick," Daphne commented.
Harry was watching it intently. "Really? Look at the way they fight. Maybe I should get a sword?" Harry said.
Daphne hit his arm. "Don't you dare! You would never be able to go anywhere and look at all that blood…"
Harry shrugged, then put an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "I still want a sword," he said after a few minutes.
Daphne shook her head.
An hour later they were standing under the dome of the Parthenon. "What is so special about this place?" Harry asked, feeling the old magic still radiating around them. Daphne was pulling him towards an alcove.
"This was originally a druid circle, then a temple to the old Roman gods. Mars was the prime. I can still feel the magic. It's like a blessing to those that intend to go off to war," she said in a hushed tone. Harry could tell how sacred she considered the place. He figured it was part of the Old Ways she talked about and was teaching him. He had a feeling if he had grown up with his parents, he would have been taught a lot of this. The Potters were far older than the Greengrasses, and she said even families like the Bones and Longbottoms still practiced many of the Old Ways, just not at Hogwarts where Dumbledore didn't encourage it.
She stopped before a statue of a woman. Harry looked up to the beautiful woman. Daphne knelt before the statue. He couldn't hear what she was muttering, but after a few minutes she took a small wreath of flowers out of her pocket. He wanted to know where she got it from, but didn't say anything, feeling as though he would be disturbing something very private.
After a few more minutes, she put the small wreath at the feet of the statue. When she stood, she was crying. Harry moved to wipe the tears away. She took his hand and held it to her damp cheek. "Are you alright?" he asked concerned.
"Thank you for coming with me. Nenia Dae is the goddess of funerals. She is often around Mars. Aunt Amelia was a warrior," she said, sounding choked up.
"Oh, Daph, I'm so sorry," Harry said, pulling her into a hug. She had cried a few times, but this was the first time he had seen her really mourning. Daphne cried into his shoulder for a bit, not caring about people around them. A few others left gifts at the statue. The looks they gave them showed an understanding.
Before they left, Harry said a private prayer for Sirius and Amelia Bones, then kissed his fingers before touching them to the statue's feet. Daphne understood what he was doing and hugged his waist as tight as she could.
By the time they left, it was time for a late lunch before they explored a little more before having to head back to the airship.
-oOo-
Next time on Dear Order: Hunters close in while Daphne and Harry explore new places as cracks start to show in the Order of the Pheonix.
-oOo-
A/N: For those interested, the gnomes of this story are an expansion of the ones in my story Witch,Wizard, Gnome!