Benjamin had only a few days left to prepare for his trip to his father's homeland, and to what he considered his own. His clothes were packed and so were his toiletries. His entire savings of 800 pounds (which translates to 1,000 United States dollars) was packed in the anti-theft pocket of his mil-spec travel backpack. What he hadn't fully prepared for was spending every moment with Hermione Granger, who was practically a stranger a few weeks prior, in a country 3,500 miles away.

In a second military-standard duffel bag, the most basic camping supplies had been packed up and were ready to be used. Benjamin didn't bother inspecting as it had only been a little over a month since he last used the gear inside. He had the bag enchanted so it could fit his guitar — which had already been packed.

Benjamin quit his job at The Leaky Cauldron (and left on well good terms) against Hermione's advice, whom had been taken to stopping by every day after work and would stay until late. They would drink tea, plan their starting mission plan, play video games, and once or twice Benjamin humored Hermione with a song on his electric keyboard.

It was about the time she would be arriving so Benjamin ventured to the bathroom to hastily shave the prickle that covered him face. He moisturized, used deodorant, and gave treated himself with a splash of cologne. Since she had been coming to his apartment, he had taken to taking better care of his body. He had been working the bag and jogging around the surrounding neighborhoods in his free time, increasing his fitness as a safety precaution for their national operation.

A knock on the door came half an hour later as he was in the middle of cooking a lemon-and-herb salmon. He opened the door and Hermione rushed in with a smile.

"Your neighbors downstairs are awfully kind," she said as she walked by him to hang her bag on the back of the kitchen chair.

"Are you hungry?" He asked as he checked the bottom of one of the fillets.

"I'm starved!" She groaned out, taking out a pad and pen from her bag and began scribbling away. "It smells delicious, Benjamin."

"It's rare I get to cook for two," he stated.

"That's how the neighbors made it sound," she replied from behind him.

He turned around. "What's that?"

"Your downstairs neighbors? They say they can't remember the last time you had any company. That you're usually very quiet and they've heard us having a laugh more than once."

"Oh," he said as he turned around, a bit embarrassed but more so pissed off. He wasn't sure why the neighbors would be telling any of his guests his business. He was, however, thankful that they didn't mention the last company he had: which was a loud, drunken sexual encounter with a young woman he met at a local bar.

After dinner, the pair retired onto the balcony where Hermione sat next to Benjamin as he smoked on a joint.

"If my parents or friends could see me now. You know, you're considered a delinquent for that," Hermione joked as she gave Ben a sly smile.

He took in a big cloud of smoke and puffed out his cheeks as he held the joint out to her.

"You're barking!" Hermione exclaimed as she pushed it away from him.

What started out as a bit of laughter turned into a coughing fit, which Hermione then pointed out and laughed at. He offered her a middle finger as he attempted a smile through his coughs.

To her, the flirting was seemingly taboo and that made it exciting; but to Benjamin, it was comfortable and increasingly motivating.

While hitting the punching bag the day before, he contemplated his future for when he returned to London. He wouldn't return to The Leaky Cauldron nor would he return to his family's stall, and though he was unaware of his exact plan, he was very well set on those two commitments. Perhaps a job within the Ministry as his days with Hermione increasingly became the reason he was more than ecstatic to get out of bed every morning.

Shortly after Benjamin's little smoke session, they found their way back inside on the couch. Benjamin poured the pair of them a glass of imported American bourbon (Hermione took a can of cola to wash down the burning liquid). They both finished their glasses rather quickly, causing Hermione's head to buzz from the alcohol. Music from the portable radio played quietly on the kitchen table.

"I had a crush on you in my third year, y'know," Hermione asserted as she offered Benjamin her empty glass.

He poured her an inch of liquor before he replied, "I did not know that. I honestly didn't think you knew who I was."

She sipped from her glass, by this point forgetting about the cool cola on the table beside her.

"I did, but really only for a few weeks. I had only heard about you through the academic grapevine, so to speak. Then, one day, you were pointed out in the Great Hall sitting a few seats away from Draco Malfoy and that seemed to be the end of it."

Benjamin gave out a hearty laugh. "Yeah, he was kind of a dick. But his dad was the same way, and I don't think he knew any different."

"I agree," Hermione replied as she looked down into her glass. "He used to taunt me by calling me a Mudblood. I was so angry with him anytime I would see him — before he'd even say anything. Eventually, as I got older, I began to pity him."

"Hmm," hummed Benjamin in response. "He was fighting his own demons, as I think most of us were and are."

Benjamin poured them a shot each and they started on the topic of their favorite magical creatures. With another shot and an hour passed, Hermione had started to slur her woods.

"You know I'm not letting you leave, right? You're taking my bed; and don't worry, I did laundry earlier. But you're not leaving. You're drunk."

Hermione drunkenly reached out and touched Benjamin's arm, his skin causing hers to look nearly as white as porcelain.

"You're very sweet. Did you know?" She asked with a pair of intoxicated, squinting eyes. In response, Benjamin snorted from his nose.

"—and you're particularly pleasant on the eyes."

"Oh hell, Hermione, I know you can't see me through them slits you call eyes."

Her smile-painted face dropped its jaw. "How dare you! You've got me all liquored up and you've the nerve to poke fun at the outcome. I take it back. You're not sweet." Constant joking was something Hermione was never really interested in, but the past few days with Benjamin had been silently teaching her to loosen up and to enjoy the moment. She had spent the past year stuck in her head and her work that she rarely left room for pleasure; this realization caused her to be reciprocative of Ben's humorous, teasing nature.

Hermione excused herself to use the toilet — for the third time in the past hour — and returned a few minutes later.

"It must be awful sharing a bathroom," Hermione complained as she took her seat next to Ben.

He laughed. "You definitely grew up an an only child."

"Oh. I forgot about that," Hermione replied. "Hey, you know what would make me sooo happy?" She pestered.

"What's that?" An entertained Benjamin asked, feeling ready to give her whatever she'd ask for.

"If you pick that guitar up and play something."

A 5-second silence sliced through the pair of them before Benjamin cleared his throat. "Do you have any requests?" He asked as he picked up his guitar from beside the keyboard and found his place back on the couch, fiddling with the tuner knobs as he strummed each string to find the perfect pitch.

"No, no requests. I could just do with some live music," Hermione murmured as she fell into the back of the couch, closing her eyes and crossing her arms above her head. Benjamin chuckled to himself as he looked over at her, the poor square. She was not joking when she told him she rarely drank.

"Have you ever written anything?" She asked with her eyes still closed.

"Sure, a handful of things. I've only ever played them for my family. I'm assuming you expect to be the first outsider to hear 'em."

Hermione nodded as she let out a "mm-hmm". Benjamin strummed a few basic chords to re-familiarize his hand motions. He placed the capo on the second fret and opened with a gritty, country finger-picking as he started on the intro:

"Broken glass from a picture frame scattered on the floor,

You're screaming at me you can't take it anymore.

I try and hold you, you just push me away,

But this ain't nothin' new 'cause we just did this yesterday."

He changed to strumming chords and continued with the chorus:

"Times are gettin' hard,

Hits you like a bullet through your heart.

Been tearin' me apart,

And it's killin' you, I know.

Said 'won't you stay with me,

I can't keep goin' if you leave'.

Ain't how it's supposed to be,

So please don't go."

His fingertips plucked the strings in the same tune as the intro and continued on with one more verse before ending with the chorus.

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye. "Don't mind me, I'm just drunk."

Benjamin, who was now on a roll, hit the frets and played the instrumental to Heart-Shaped Box by Nirvana.

"I had this girlfriend for a couple months: Sarah. During that period, well, I quit talking to my parents and the few friends I had. We met through mutual friends and I thought she was pretty, and nice. She was kicked from her parents' and was jumping around from couch to couch; and for all I know, bed to bed."

He continued, "I offered her a place here — on the couch. Within a week, she was sleeping in my bed, and that was the start of the downward spiral. I was drinking pretty heavily and I found myself back on the pills. I wasn't perfect by any means but she did the prodding and fishing for fights."

"That sounds miserable. I'm sorry you had to deal with that," Hermione replied sympathetically. "It beats me why anyone would treat you like that, or anyone who brought them into their home on nothing more than goodwill."

"Yeah, well, the world is a wild place. It's a good thing you have me going with you to America." He was attempting to change the subject. "Are you getting tired yet?"

Hermione nodded slowly as she pushed herself off the couch. Benjamin stood up quickly and grabbed one of her arms, helping to keep her balanced. He walked her into the bedroom and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket for himself. Hermione was getting herself situated under the covers of the bed. They bid a quick goodnight and Hermione had her eyes closed before Benjamin shut the bedroom door behind him.

He was awoken the next morning to the light clinking of ceramic and the smell of brewed coffee filled his senses. He opened his tired eyes and look to where the noises were coming from and saw Hermione sitting at the kitchen table, her cup pressed to her face as she eyed him back.

"Good morning. I hope you don't mind, I made coffee."

"Mm, that's fine," Benjamin replies groggily as he placed his bare feet on the cold, wooden floor and wiped the sleep from his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's ten minutes after seven."

Benjamin groaned and threw his body backwards onto the couch, the leather cold on his back. He sat back like that for a moment, then grabbed his shirt off the table and trudged into the kitchen for a mug of coffee.

"I'm sorry you had to sleep on the couch. You didn't look particularly comfortable."

"It's not my first rodeo," he replied as he sat down with his coffee. "Did you sleep okay?"

"It was fine, thank you. I must stop by my condo before I go to work. Thank you for letting me stay last night."

She left after her cup was empty and Benjamin was left alone in his old, run down apartment. It was early, too early. Ben usually didn't have much need to be awake at that time these days. He packed a few more items for his trip, which included a leather pouch with small vials inside that held cooking spices and dried herbs.

He swept his apartment and mopped the floors; cleaned off all the surfaces and tidied up his bedroom. Benjamin was preparing it to be empty for an unknown amount of time. One thing he has yet to think of was how his rent would be paid while he was gone. He was so wrapped up in everything else that it seemed to be far from his forethought.

In the meantime, as he awaited for Hermione's expected return, he wrote a letter to his family explaining his future vacancy but had yet to send it, along with the Jarvey's paperwork. By noon-thirty, he found the payphone down the street and dialed up his friend Orlando. The two of them exchanged conversation for a few minutes, Benjamin telling Orlando that his friend and love interest, Hermione Granger, had been visiting everyday. Orlando, being the high-energy, naturally ecstatic Muggle he is, went on about "having game" and "pulling his pants up". When he asked exactly what he told her, he was a bit shocked to hear that Benjamin, once a stall vendor and small time cook, would be a Ministry of Magic affiliate, performing duties in the United States.

"How long you gon' be out there, man?"

"I have no idea, and I don't think Hermione does either."

"Huh. Well, in a couple weeks is when I think we're gon' head back to Chicago. You know where I stay — if you find yourself out there, come by and we gon' take care of y'all."

"Alright, man. Sounds good. Thank you."

Benjamin hung up the payphone and strolled down the neighborhood blocks towards his apartment. There were younger children kicking a ball in the low-traffic street and the sounds of barking dogs could be heard a handful of blocks over. Benjamin thought to himself how lucky he was for a woman like Hermione Granger to spend time with him in such a lowly neighborhood. Then, he remembered her work with the house elves during his Fifth year at Hogwarts as she attempted to change their legal status and improve their working conditions. Perhaps he had been misjudging her.

After arriving back at his place of residency, he polished his wand and shined up his black, leather boots — some small details that needed taken care of before his departure from the country. In three days time, he'd be leaving everything behind and staying in the country he had only briefly visited few parts of with his family. That did not include New York City, and it certainly was not on his list of desirable locations to visit. Crowded with colonizers, he thought.

Half past five arrived and Benjamin patiently awaited Hermione's knock. Another ten minutes pass and there was no knock. Benjamin had pondered whether or not something was wrong. Of course, he didn't have a phone number for her and couldn't call her up; nor did he have an owl to send a letter.

Six o'clock came and went. There was no indication that Hermione would arrive. Benjamin made himself a burger on the stove for dinner before taking the plate into his room to eat. A DVD copy of Wayne's World played on the PS2 as he ate his food, occasionally getting sidetracked within his overthinking.

Did something happen on her way in? Did he do something last night that made her want to avoid him? He didn't feel like she was in trouble and he had always trusted his gut feeling — as it has proved honest. After dinner, he laid himself up in bed and finished the movie. He switched the disc out with Varsity Blues before turning the rest of the lights off and drifting off to sleep.

Benjamin was awoken to light tapping on glass. He lifted his head tiredly. "Mmm," he grunted as he trudged, half asleep, into the living room.

He opened one of the French doors to show a barn owl perched on the wrought iron balcony railing. He ran inside hurriedly to grab the letter and Ministry paperwork for his parents. After tying them to the owl's slender leg, he watched as the large, brown and white owl took off in the direction of his parents' farm.

He had nearly forgotten his request for a delivery owl to arrive at his apartment a few days prior, a favor passed on to Hermione. He had explained in his letter that him nor Hermione would be available to return the stack of paperwork to the Ministry. He wasn't sure he'd even be home to receive any sort of reply.

Benjamin and Hermione had only three days left before they'd be expected to arrive in New York City. He had been given a rough outline of the plan but Hermione said that timing for everything would rely on the intel they gather, and how quickly they gather it.

The end of the day, and end of Hermione's shift, was creeping closer and closer. Benjamin was beginning to feel anxious, wondering if she'd be a no-show again, until he heard a knock at the door. He rushed over to it and opened the door to see Hermione, smiling, and out of breath.

He motioned her to enter and she came in, dropping her bags on the kitchen table and exclaiming: "We've got a private jet. First class flying."

"Ah, I see. And what was the option before?"

"A day-and-a-half ride on a Ministry stagecoach pulled by Thestrals that need rest."

"So how long will our flight take?"

"Only about eight hours. We'll be leaving at three on Friday morning."

Benjamin's jaw dropped. "Three o'clock? In the morning?"

Hermione laughed. "Don't worry. It's a private jet and there will be a bed available. You can sleep the entire flight."

"Oh, well, that's nice. I've never flown on anything other than a broom and a Thestral before."

"Hey, I'm sorry about yesterday, by the way."

Ben took his the seat across from Hermione. "Yeah, I was going to ask about that. Was everything okay?"

She hadn't stopped smiling since she entered the apartment.

"Everything is great. I was just pulling some strings back at work and finishing up the packing. At first I was a bit nervous but now I'm kind of excited. Aren't you?" She was obviously beaming with optimism and excitement.

"Sure, excited, nervous. Same thing, aren't they?" He joked to her a bit pathetically.

"What's the matter?"

"Nothing, really. I am a bit nervous myself. I have a big job to do and I'm just hoping I won't have to be on-guard twenty-four seven."

"Everything will be fine," Hermione replied as she placed her warm, white hand on top of Benjamin's. He forced a smile and nodded in agreement. She moved her hand and he felt the cold in its absence.

"Also, I'm wondering if perhaps you'd like to stay with me at my condo until we leave? Today was my last day of work at the office and I think we can get some more planning done if we can just stay in and not travel. Plus, my couch is quite a bit bigger than yours."

"Um," Benjamin bumbled over any coherent words, taken aback at such an offer. "I-I guess that would be okay." He thought maybe she had been feeling put-off towards his apartment.

She hurried him to gather anything he would need to take, including the bags in the living room that were already packed. Finally, Hermione Granger ushered Benjamin Hendrix out of his own apartment and escorted him to hers, where they would remain for the next few days.