Summer Holiday
June seventeenth saw Harry cleaning up the house and re-packing – Daphne flooed over with a duffle-bag and re-packed his suitcase, adding more board-shirts. "I'm not traipsing around in bikini pants," she said. Harry felt disappointed by that. "There's riding, bicycles and horses. I'm doing both." And a straw hat – non-pointy, and a small space-expanded bag with a dress robe and pointy hat and boots "In case I need to go somewhere not muggle," she explained. And stared at Harry pointedly. He got the dress robe he'd worn to all the post-war stuff, some tidy shoes, and no hat.
"I'm not being seen in public with a wizard without a hat," said Daphne, "get a respectable hat."
Harry grumbled and went and got a hat without a brim. He got home to find Greengrass bossing Kreacher around, and casting powerful – disturbingly effective – cleaning charms on the first floor bathroom.
"What is that?" he asked.
"It was designed for cleaning fouled cauldrons, my mother taught me it," she said "Your bathrooms are a disgrace, you know?"
"Um – can you leave me a reference?" he asked – it was extremely effective.
The next day, they went to the international portkey office, and the international portkey landed them in Hawaii, at a clearing paved with bamboo, and they had to take another portkey to Maui, which wasn't for an hour and a half. It was very hot, and humid, though the palm trees shaded the area somewhat.
There were, fortunately, a few bamboo huts, including bathrooms, and a bar.
"I'm getting changed," said Greengrass, taking the suitcase.
Harry cast a cooling charm he'd learnt for medical reasons, and investigated the bar.
They had cold pineapple drinks, so Harry had one. Non-alcoholic; medically advisable.
A few minutes later, Greengrass came over in a floral shirt and board-shorts and sandals. She looked quite comfortable, if not very glamorous, and thrust the suitcase at him "Go get changed" she said, and took his drink. Harry went and changed into a Hawaiian shirt and shorts. It was a lot cooler in shorts, and Harry cast a quick stone-skin charm on his feet – which were pale, but at least bare they were cooler. Greengrass was lounging against the bar looking relaxed as he walked back.
She looked him up and down.
"Bare feet?" she asked.
"I don't have sandals," said Harry.
She frowned. "Honestly, why I let you pack your own things?" she said judgementally. Harry was tempted to observe that she looked frumpy, but thought on balance that picking a fight might be a bad idea. Besides, she had a … girl on holiday look that was clearly comfortable. Harry sat at the adjacent stool and got another cold pineapple drink.
Half an hour of lounging in comfortable clothes at the bar with Daphne and Harry felt almost as relaxed as if he'd taken daydream potions at home. There was a bustle of wizards and witches in a variety of costumes coming and going from the Hawaii central portkey office. Strange foreign birds called in the trees. An entire family, in dress robes appeared… parents and four children, and Harry nudged Daphne with his elbow.
"Not dressed for the weather," he said.
"Oh god. Those are eastern European styles. They'll be boiling," said Daphne. The family, and several trunks floating, made their way to the side of the portkey area, where a large black car, more like a small bus, waited, and they all got on, the door closed, and it left.
"How are we getting to the resort?" asked Daphne.
"Um," said Harry, "the bus from the portkey office," he said with a shrug.
"Okay. I just don't want to walk there," said Daphne. "It is quite hot."
"Mmm hmm," said Harry. It was probably too far to walk.
Daphne turned to the bar and asked about daytime potions, and for a sickle, got two.
"Bottoms up," she said "This'll let us sleep when it's night-time."
Harry lifted his eyebrows at her, and she gave him a snappish look. "Maybe, if it's nice," she said, drinking the potion. Harry tipped it back, and he felt like he'd used a time-turner, suddenly feeling like it was the afternoon. He put the empty vial on the bar, feeling a little out of it.
"Well," said Daphne, blinking, "That was… odd."
"The feeling passes," said the polite local bar-tender, "By tonight you'll feel sleepy and tomorrow you'll wake with the sun."
"Hmm," said Harry "These pineapple drinks?"
"Sure – they're made locally," said the bartender, and handed over two, Harry slid him sickles.
"You know, there's local money, and nomaj's have their own money too," said the bartender "The little hut with the awnings is my cousin's money exchange."
Harry checked his wallet "I got a few hundred dollars, we're staying at a resort, will that be enough?"
"Depends if you have to pay the bar bill, and activities can be pricey."
It's um, all included" said Harry.
"All included?" asked Daphne.
"It seemed simpler to just spend more up front," said Harry. "So I know what it cost."
"If you're going to one of those places, you'll hardly spend anything. Please do buy from local shops if you get out and about," said the bartender, "their gift-shop will not benefit the people of Hawaii."
"Gift shop?" asked Daphne. "What?"
"Oh. It's like a place to buy clothes you forgot, extra snacks, and gifts to take home. Again, if you could go off on your own, buy local?" asked the bartender. "Have you booked a car?"
"Um no," said Harry, "Can't drive" he admitted.
"We're going riding," said Daphne, "Surely we can ride to a shop for gifts?"
"Maybe. What's the resort?" asked the bartender.
"Wailea beach," said Harry. "I got the um, luau package on a beach room."
"That's a pretty up-scale place," said the bartender.
"Beach-front and luau is what we are here for," said Daphne. "Are there horses at the hotel?"
"I don't think so," said the bartender "But there are ranches. You might need more money."
"Do they take Gringotts card?" asked Harry. "It works through HSBC?" Harry fished it out; the travel agent had used it.
The bartender gave it a quick look, "It's an Amex – you'll be fine," he said, "Enjoy your stay."
Harry and Daphne got off the bus from the portkey office in Maui several hours later, feeling hot, with one suitcase, in board shorts and short-sleeved shirts. The Wailea Beach resort's front building looked… expensive, and there were bulky, expensive-looking sports-cars pulling in making deep rumbling noises from their engines.
The couples at the resort were… well the women were heavily made-up, expensively dressed, and either naturally beautiful, or the product of a lot of muggle plastic surgery, and the blokes all wore polo shirts with little animals on the breast – alligators for some reason, or bulls. And mostly trousers. And they had fancy haircuts, and all reminded Harry unpleasantly of adult Draco Malfoys'. There were a few normal looking guests, but it was rather packed out with the rich types. Downside, thought Harry, of it being expensive.
The friendly hotel bellhop led them to the quite nice room that opened onto the beach-front, and put down their bag. And waited.
"Potter, they want a tip," said Daphne, and Harry awkwardly gave them a ten dollar note. "Sorry" said Harry.
"Oh you're English, right," said the bellhop, "mahalo," and they left.
"Potter. We have a problem," said Daphne.
"What?" asked Harry. The suite had a big bedroom with a huge bed, and comfy looking couches in the suite bit if he wasn't welcome in the bed.
"I feel rather underdressed," said Daphne "Several of the… female guests gave me the cut direct. It's intolerable."
"What?" asked Harry.
"And you need sandals. We're going to the gift shop!"
Which the directory in the room's guest information folder showed Harry how to get to, and it was in fact, several shops.
Daphne snatched up several brightly coloured bits of cloth, and pointed Harry at sandals for men. He picked some up, and looked at the gifts bit. A few little things for Ron and Hermione, and he felt vaguely done… oh, and a postcard from the resort, to send to work.
Daphne arrived at the counter with a pile of coloured fabric and another pair of sandals... but this pair had wedge heels. And she picked up two pairs of sunglasses, plopped the whole lot down and said "Harry. Pay."
Harry paid with the card, which beeped in the reader, and that was apparently that.
Daphne made him put the sandals on immediately.
"Right. Back to our room," she said, and headed off, with evidently an excellent sense of direction.
And shut herself in the bathroom, coming out a fifteen minutes later with sunglasses in her hair, with a floral piece of fabric tied over her swimsuit bra, and a wrap skirt – one of the floral bits of fabric, that bared her knees and waist. And the wedge-heeled sandals, so she was a little taller than him now. And stuff. And she looked like she'd gone up a bra size or two.
"Right. Now none of those bitches will sneer at me," she said, and did a twirl "What do you think?" she asked, clearly quite aware she was quite fit.
"Have you cast any spells?" asked Harry.
"One undirected human transfiguration Potter, nothing strange," she said.
Harry felt quite worried. Both intense physical discomfort, as she looked atrociously attractive, and awkward as it was clear she'd used an undirected transfiguration to erm. The technical term was MAD, and it was a severe disciplinary offence to help with it at St Mungo's. But on the other hand; "Um," said Harry. "You look um… great." Because saying 'prettiest girl here' wasn't exactly true, but he wasn't sure he was forgiven enough to get away with saying 'sexiest girl here.'
"I know," she said, "Well come on, let's explore the place."
Harry took the map out of the ring-binder. Just in case.
He tried not to stare at her. The rich looking blokes with attractive women hanging around looked past Harry at Greengrass, and the women glared at her. He really wondered about putting an arm around her waist. Except that was a lot like putting both hands on her bare waist… and now his board-shorts were uncomfortable in public. But mercifully didn't show. And he kept turning possible conversations he could have with her about her situation vis-a-vis Magically Assisted Dysmorphia. He just couldn't imagine a possible angle he could take where she didn't get extremely cross. It would, Harry mused have to wait.
They did, however find a bar by a large pool, and both got bar-stools, and fruity drinks, not, to Harry's disappointment, in coconuts. There were, however, tiny umbrellas in the drinks as a consolation prize. Harry sipped his, and turned the stool to look over the pool to the beach, where there were beach umbrellas and a silvery caravan that Harry suspected was probably not just for ice-creams. Greengrass swivelled her barstool, and sipped her drink, "Mmm. This is good" she said. Beyond the pool was a beach, and the ocean, and to the right, another pool with some sort of rockery and broad, low steps.
There were, thought Harry, just enough palm trees, and the sand was nice and white, the water fairly blue.
"Martin Fleese," said the bloke next to him, who was wearing one of those odd polos with an alligator logo on it, and shorts, "I'm a stockbroker."
"Oh, um Harry Potter, I'm a doctor," said Harry.
"And the lovely lady?" asked Martin.
"Daphne Greengrass," said Harry "Martin, Daphne, Daphne, Martin." he added.
"And what does Daphne do?" Martin said, and Harry felt quite upset he'd said her name, let alone looked at her. Ogling, he was ogling.
"I own a bank," said Daphne. "He's the doctor that stopped me dying from a robbery gone wrong."
"Being shot is medically inadvisable," said Harry drily. Martin choked on his drink. Served him right.
"I haven't been shot since," said Daphne, sipping her drink.
Martin, Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye was no longer eyeing Daphne covetously. Which was good as feeding him to the sharks would probably cause trouble later. Not that he was going to.
"So, first time in Hawaii?" asked Martin.
"Not our first island holiday," said Daphne, "But I'm looking forward to riding with Harry."
"Is there a luau soon?" asked Harry, sipping.
"I'm keen to see a proper luau," said Daphne. "And swimming, obviously."
Harry eyed the beach, where someone was running along the beach near the water "Oh good, running," he said.
"You run?" asked Martin.
"Always have," said Harry.
"I don't suppose either of you Brits surf, do you?" asked Martin.
"Um," said Harry, "no, but definitely giving it a try."
"Well, it takes balance and it's a bit of a work-out." said Martin.
"Martin, are you here with someone, or all on your own?" asked Daphne.
"Oh, Sandra's at the spa, getting pampered," said Martin.
"Pampering?" said Daphne "I should check that out. Where do the authentically Hawaii things happen?"
"Oh?" said Martin, "over at the beach, mostly… I suppose, if you're… they're not on all the time."
"There will be some in the next two weeks though?" asked Daphne.
"Two Weeks?" asked Martin, sounding a little surprised.
"I've only got three weeks off from hospital," explained Harry, knocking back the drink "so we're only here for two."
Martin turned around to the bar, and ordered two fingers of scotch for some inexplicable reason.
"Well, I want to swim in the pool," said Harry to Daphne, looking at the sign that said the DEEP END; it was marked as eight feet deep.
"How bold of you," said Daphne.
"You could lie on one of the loungers and not even pretend to read a book," said Harry.
"Hmm. Your plan has merit," said Daphne.
Harry walked next to Daphne over to an empty lounger, and he took off his Hawaiian shirt, and handed it to her, with his sunglasses. He squinted at the pool.
"Try not approach the wrong woman when you get out," said Daphne blandly, sitting down. And if she eyed the sparse black hairs on his chest, or the way they formed a line going down his belly to the waistband, well that was her business. She looked around, and saw a shelf of towels. She rolled Harry's shirt up, and said "Now, I'll have a towel for you, so you don't have to wander about blindly looking for one."
"I can squint, you know," said Harry, looking at the lounger, then the other pool, which appeared to have a big slide.
"I'm aware," said Daphne, "go, swim in the pool. You big brave hero you."
"There's absolutely no chance of anything trying to eat me," said Harry "it's significantly safer than the ocean."
"And that matters to you," said Daphne, looking over his arm, dotted with large scars.
"I was young and stupid," said Harry. "It's medically inadvisable." he added, turned and walked to the poolside, and dove in … somewhat decently, and began to swim. Daphne frowned, having seen the huge scar on his left shoulder-blade, which actually did trouble him, noble git.
Daphne watched him swim for a few moments over the top of her sunglasses, then put Harry's things down on the lounger, and swayed off to get a towel. Well, two, just in case.
She lay back on the longer and stretched, then lazily watched the ocean, only glancing back at the nearest, large pool every once in a while.
She smiled to herself, closed her eyes and had a little nap.