Travel Log 8: Peru & Argentina, End of Log
May to June 2000
He swept his gaze over the ruins and the valley beyond. The scenery was superb, of course, but …
"This is nice and all," Harry said, crossing his arms in front of him. "but I'm not feeling it."
He heard Theodore sigh somewhere behind him. "Just because Machu Picchu is not a burial site doesn't make it any less historically valuable."
"I'm not a history nerd, Theo." Harry turned around to look at his friend properly. "But from the way the US people spoke, I expected something really impressive. Should have known not to trust anything coming out of their mouths. I'm fairly convinced they're all insane."
"They're normal people like you and I."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "We are in no way normal, Theo, look at us." He shook his head. "The US is scary and you cannot convince me otherwise."
"I have to agree," came Tom's voice as he approached from wherever he had disappeared to. "I am glad we did not linger for long."
"Not enough historical burial sites," Harry said. "Honestly, Asia was much more interesting. And they said Naqsh-e Rustam wouldn't be special, but it was. It really was."
"You agreed Santa Paula was beautiful," Theodore said. "And you will appreciate La Recoleta, I'm sure. But for now, let me have this."
Harry heaved a deep sigh. "The things I do for love. Come, Draco. Let's find somewhere to set up camp and go hunt a llama or something."
"Leave the poor llamas alone."
"What about me?" Tom called, fake hurt in his voice.
Harry gave him his best grin. "You can assist Theo."
o
South America had by far more to offer than North America, but it was still lacking in Harry's eyes. After all they had seen in Europe and Asia and the tiny part of North Africa that they had visited … Perhaps this shouldn't have come as a surprise. They hadn't exactly decided on their route in order of magnificence, but rather geographical convenience.
He did appreciate Buenos Aires' La Recoleta – it was the most beautiful cemetery of the Americas in his opinion – but even this was overshadowed by memories of other cemeteries they had visited – Oku-no-in most of all. It was mainly the lack of trees and having to see the ugly city buildings surrounding the cemetery. Most American cemeteries were like that – urban. Harry much preferred the serenity of forests.
"I told you the Americas were not worth it," Tom said in the face of Harry's mounting disappointment, his best 'I told you so' grin firmly in place.
He had foisted the task of being Theodore's assistant off on Draco and now Harry had to suffer his company while they waited for their return, pretending to read books in the living room of their tent.
"Well, excuse me for not taking your biased word for it."
"You haven't even scratched the surface of what Africa has to offer," Tom continued as if Harry hadn't said anything. "You have not visited Russia at all." He paused. "I do not believe you would survive Australia."
Harry groaned. "Fine. Alright. Why don't you write up a list of places we have yet to visit and then Theo and I will look into them."
Tom wrinkled his nose. "There is no reason for me to do all this hard work when you are the ones hoping to gain anything from this entire endeavour."
"What," Harry straightened from where he had been slouching over the table, "you don't like travelling the world with us?"
He expected a witty reply, but was surprised when Tom only gazed at him silently for a moment and then averted his eyes.
Punishment. Right. He kept forgetting about that.
"You know what?" Harry said out loud. "Why don't we return home for the time being?"
"Oh?" Tom leaned forward. "Have you finally decided to face your cowardice, then?"
Harry scowled. "What cowardice. We are travelling the world, Tom, not running away from home."
He didn't like the smile lighting up Tom's face one bit.
"So the Boy Who Lived, Vanquisher of the Dark Lord, Saviour of the Muggle-borns," Tom said with a theatrical drawl, "will finally come home, return into the public eye and allow himself to be celebrated for the heroic deeds he accomplished?"
Harry grimaced. "That's not going to happen. It's been nearly two years and while I was the one who killed you, I didn't actually save anyone. That's all on Neville and the others. Everyone should have moved on with their lives by now."
"Fame does not disappear overnight. And you, my dear, have been famous all your life."
"And whose fault is that?" Harry shook his head. "No, I don't think it will be all that bad. And if I'm wrong, I can always leave again. Settle down somewhere else. It's not like I can't visit my friends whenever I want."
"And what shall my role be in all of this?"
He may have said it nonchalantly, carelessly, but Harry could see the tightness around Tom's eyes, the way his thinned lips betrayed his inner turmoil.
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "But the first thing we will do upon our return," he made sure to meet Tom's gaze steadily, "shall be a visit to Naenia's graveyard."
o
The first thing they actually did after returning to Britain was to visit a whole lot of people. Then they arranged for accommodations for themselves and only then, when all the excitement of their return had calmed down, did Harry bring Tom to Naenia's graveyard.
"What do you want to do, now?" Theodore asked him, after. "What are your plans for the future?"
"I think …" Harry turned the cup of tea between his hands, contemplating. "I think I'm going to ask Rhea to get me in contact with someone who would be willing to teach me how to operate a funeral parlour. Maybe I'll work for the Lémures for a bit before I start looking into opening one, myself." He looked up to meet Theodore's eyes. "What about you?"
"Take a guess."
Harry hummed to himself. "Something related to history. A scholar, maybe?"
He watched the corner of Theodore's lips quirk up. "Close enough. Say, how would you feel about freeing a ghost from what holds it to this world?"
Harry blinked. "You want to – Why would you willingly subject yourself to the torture of teaching children?"
"I heard it's quite nice, actually." Theodore was now fully grinning. "I even heard a certain Harry Potter once taught a bunch of children Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was supposedly very good at it."
"That old story? Anyone could have done a better job than Umbridge."
"But no one else did."
"Are you trying to convince me to become a teacher with you?"
Theodore laughed quietly and shook his head. "It might have worked some years ago – but I know things have changed since. You have changed. A funeral parlour suits you well. Do you already have a place in mind?"
Harry hesitated for a moment.
"Not – Not in Britain, I think. But I'm not familiar enough with any of the countries we visited. I really liked Japan's Oku-no-in, but that was just a tiny part and I – ah, I don't think I would be the right fit for it. I'll have to look into it some more. Maybe travel some more and look for the dead no one has put to rest yet."
He already knew where to begin with that – the cave filled with Inferi Voldemort had originally hidden one of his Horcruxes in. He was fairly sure the Lémures would be more than willing to help if asked.
"That sounds like a fine plan," Theodore said. "And I will help you, of course."
A warm smile spread across Harry's face. "Thank you."
o
Life moved on as it always did, just in different ways than before.
The more time passed, the more Harry lost track of it. One day, Ron and Hermione were finally graduating from Hogwarts. The next day, Hermione was suddenly running for Minister.
Clearing out the Inferi cave took longer than expected – identifying the victims was the hardest part, putting their bodies to rest simply required dedication. Having the support of several Lémures helped immensely, though. Harry hardly noticed the months pass them by and then he suddenly received an invitation to Ginny's wedding when he hadn't even known she was in a relationship with someone.
He had to read the letter three times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. So she really was marrying that person, huh.
Ginny was the first of his friends to marry. Well, technically, she wasn't the first – it was just that hers was the first wedding Harry was able to attend after Bill and Fleur's. He knew there were bets going around whether Ron and Hermione were going to be next, but in this case, at least, Harry was fairly confident he would be the first to know. There had been moments when Harry hadn't thought it possible. Even now his best friends kept getting into heated arguments every other week. Having only one single normal relationship to compare them to – Bill and Fleur – Harry could honestly not tell whether that was a good or a bad thing for a possible romantic relationship. Not that Ron and Hermione actually were involved romantically. Not to Harry's knowledge.
He still did not understand what on earth was going on between Rhea, Neville, Blaise and Luna and he honestly didn't want to know, either.
Harry and Theodore, meanwhile, kept enjoying their quiet life. They were both incredibly busy with their chosen professions, but neither regretted it. Theodore got to peruse Hogwarts' extensive library between classes and continued his historical research on the side while Harry fell into the daily routine of performing funeral rites – from the preparation of the bodies down to the procession, itself. Draco had proven himself an invaluable help with the bureaucratic side of things over the years and actually seemed to genuinely enjoy managing the business while Harry lost himself in the arts.
He never really got into the research side of necromancy, the idea of creating Inferi or experimenting with all things related to Death never appealing to him. That was more Rhea's thing. Theodore dabbled, sometimes, but generally preferred to use his own proficiency to call upon dead spirits and interrogate them about their lives 'for academical purposes'.
"Harry," came Draco's voice, interrupting the quiet solitude of his work. "Do you have a moment?"
Harry put down the brush and took off his gloves. "Of course, Draco. What is it?"
There was a letter in Draco's hands, Harry noticed – of the thick, expensive kind of parchment only the old purebloods used anymore.
"I received an invitation."
"Yes?"
Draco looked down at the letter, remaining silent.
"You don't need my permission if you wish to accept," Harry said slowly. They had been over this. It shouldn't be an issue.
"It's a wedding invitation."
Harry blinked. Another one?
"I am unsure whether my presence would be … beneficial."
"If they invited you, they must want you there."
A familiar sneer appeared on Draco's face. "I see you still fail to grasp the intricacies of politics. The invitation itself is a mere courtesy. My reply will greatly affect several relationships I have been carefully rebuilding and cultivating ever since you finally settled down."
Harry snorted. What else was new. "Maybe you should have gone to Theo, then."
"Theodore has left our social circles behind long ago."
"Draco. I don't understand what you want from me, here. Dense Gryffindor, remember? Spell it out for me."
Their eyes finally met.
"My … status as your Inferius," Draco began, "is not widely known, because I took great pains to ensure it would be so. However, social gatherings like these allow for enquiring questions to be asked that would not be considered polite in written correspondence."
"Right. And you – what, want to hide it?"
"It would be in both our interests if my situation did not become widely known."
An exasperated sigh escaped Harry's throat. "Draco, I don't care about any of this stuff. You can do whatever you want. What do you need me for?"
"We are … business partners, yes? I would require your backing."
Harry furrowed his brows. "You want me to accompany you?"
There was a moment of hesitation, then Draco shook his head. "I simply need you to be prepared to answer any enquiries that will come your way in the aftermath." He gave Harry a pointed look. "In a way befitting an influential pureblood, not a … 'dense Gryffindor'."
"You already handle most of my correspondence anyway, I don't see the problem."
That made Draco sigh. Harry counted it as a win. Making Draco react in any way was always a win.
"I don't know why I thought coming to you would in any way help me."
Harry gave him his best grin. "Can't tell you that, either. Anything else? No? Then shoo, Eddie needs to look his best by the time Lethe is scheduled to arrive to pick him up."
"Does that apply to me as well?" came a voice from behind Draco, who was shaking his head and then turned to leave.
A wide smile spread across Harry's lips. "Never. How was school?"
"The same as always," Theodore replied, stepping into the room and closing the distance to give Harry a peck on the lips. "But I've been thinking."
"Dangerous," Harry said playfully. "Should I be worried?"
Theodore laughed quietly, hooking an arm around Harry's waist and resting his head on Harry's shoulder.
"Theo?"
"It's nothing, I just – I think I want to spend the rest of my life with you," Theodore whispered.
Harry blinked. "Where did that come from?"
"Everyone getting married left and right."
"Ah. And you're – You are sure? I might not age and die as you will," Harry confessed. "We will blink once and you will be an old man and I might still be the same."
"You won't be. Time is relentless to everyone, immortal or not."
"And would you want to spend your afterlife with me as well?"
"Yes," Theodore answered without hesitation. "Always."
End of Part 3
AN
If you're wondering what happened in the graveyard, I kept that a mystery on purpose. It didn't feel right to write it out.
I struggled a bit with writing the ending. I had the broad strokes planned, of course, but then there was just a blank page staring at me and no words wanted to be written. I don't know what it was.