In the Crosshairs
Dragon Voldemort
Chapter 117: Treacle Fudge
Tuesday, Hermione woke in the heat, Ron and Gia next to her, the window wide open to the awning roof on the other side. Hermione went over, Harry down on it, sitting cross–legged, tea kettle, and a mug to his hands.
"Climb on through," Harry said.
Hermione hesitated, lifted, climbed through, sat next to him. Harry handed her his mug, and she sipped. Beyond the balcony, a few trees with a couple of gray mongoose going through them.
"The topic of your execution came back up," Hermione said.
Hermione handed the mug back to Harry, and he sipped.
"I've encountered three people so far," Harry said, "Neville thought I'd risen from the dead before he realized we were from different points in time. Malfoy thought I was the alternate Harry, not realizing that Harry was dead, therefore, likely ours from our future."
"Not hallucinating with the tea?" Hermione asked.
"No," Harry said.
Hermione took the mug back from Harry, drank at the tea.
"Suppose they could be mistaken," Harry said, "Still, seemed rather confident at it. Haven't gotten an exact time or a place…guess that'd ruin the surprise."
"That's not the type of surprise we want," Hermione said.
"Still," Harry said, "Taking this suspension to chill, treat it as the holiday we need, I fail to see that as a problem."
Hermione glanced at him, the nipples to the chest, the bite marks.
"Suppose not," Hermione said.
"It's been fun," Harry said, "Diving, catching up with Seth, Osaka. You?"
"Guess," Hermione said.
"Ron'll put up with it," Harry said, "Still, might want to cater a bit to him too."
"Museums seemed right, so did the pyramids," Hermione said, "But we heard about the shark spotted in the locker room."
Harry snorted. Hermione reached, felt Harry's new scars.
"Go diving then," Harry said, "Ron'd love to learn to use aqua lungs."
Ron snorted, he stood inside the room.
"We went to Defanga beach, south of Manila," Harry said, "Outfit called Shark Chum is ran by a wizard called Kibble. He'd certify you in a day if you read the book, and are a decent swimmer."
Harry stood.
"Breakfast and split again," Harry said.
Harry jumped over the ledge, back into through the window. Hermione climbed in.
"Walk with me," Harry suggested.
Hermione walked with Harry, out of the room. Ron and Gia followed, down the steps, out of the hostel.
"I don't have a better idea," Harry said, "How'd going into the Ministry sound?"
"Suicide," Hermione said.
"Ignoring suspension and searching Hogwarts?" Harry said.
"Dumbledore's already done that," Hermione said.
"Infiltrate Death Eaters, try a killing curse on Voldemort?" Harry asked.
"He's paranoid too," Hermione said.
A turn, they crossed the road.
"Hang out in England," Harry said, "So long as it's not Diagon Alley or Noigate, we can do an errand—maybe without incident.
Hermione shook her head.
"Right now," Harry said, "They're not looking outside England, not hard at least. Me and Ron together?"
"Get your point," Hermione said.
"Those two!" Harry snapped.
Hermione glanced, Ron and Gia under disillusion. Harry grabbed her, the wand, the swish, and she spotted neither herself nor Harry, though his hand remained.
"Think they went…" Ron turned with Gia, into the cafe.
Invisibility that dropped.
"You could teach—" Hermione started.
"Verum," Harry said, "Means true."
Hermione studied his face, the bottle green eyes.
"Clever witch," Harry said, "Teach it to Ron too."
Hermione followed Harry into the cafe.
"There you went," Ron said, already at a table.
Hermione sat opposite Ron, Harry to her right. Harry took his pills, as Ron took out The Daily Prophet.
"Hold onto him," Ron said to Hermione, the green that came to his ears, "Seriously, hold Harry."
"What?" Harry asked.
"Hermione," Ron said, "Please, tight."
Hermione wrapped her right arm around Harry's backside.
"This," Ron said as he turned the paper around.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Tuesday 22 April 1997
Riot in Azkaban
Yesterday, a severe riot broke out among the prisoners in Azkaban. Most of the injuries sustained were minor, however, one prisoner was killed during this incident. The Minister of Magic has assured that a full investigation will commence into the circumstances surrounding this outbreak; he has also used this as an example of why Demeantors should be allowed to return and guard this notorious institution.
Killed in the riot was the former Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid.
Hermione felt the sudden tightness, the disapparation, apparation, into the growing morning light by the Forbidden Forest. Harry doubled over, his stomach that wrenched. Feet from it, both of them entered Hagrid's Hut, the cobwebs that would never be swept by the half–giant again.
"I…I…" Harry muttered.
Both sat on the edge of the musty tall bed. Harry reached into his hip pocket, pulled out a letter. Hermione read it over Harry's shoulder as the tap of the cane was heard.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Harry,
Hagrid is dead, the Daily Prophet should have delayed publication, but they are correct. I have been officially notified as his solicitor.
Dumbledore
"Sorry about this," Harry said, "Can't always control it…heard…"
"Hagrid knew he meant a lot to you," Dumbledore said as he sat at a chair.
Harry stood a turn by the fireplace, and gripped the back of a chair.
"They stole another friend away," Harry said, "Sad…anger, doesn't begin to cover it."
"I'd be more worried if you weren't affected," Dumbledore said, "It's a rotten business to be in."
"Like I had a choice," Harry said, "I've seen the Harry who tried to walk away, it chased after him."
"Unfortunately you were drafted," Dumbledore said.
"I volunteered," Hermione said, unsure if it was the right thing to say.
"Having nobody die seems impossible," Harry grumbled.
"You seem determined," Dumbledore said, "I assume that's related—"
"Yeah," Harry said, finger to the scars, "Gia survived, the other bloke's son did not."
"Thought—" Hermione started.
"That bloke picked it," Harry said, "Can't protect everybody, especially if they're determined to foul things up."
"Lets get back to Ron," Hermione suggested.
"And where is he?" Dumbledore asked.
"Mumbai," Harry said, "Hermione."
Harry reached for a large piece of treacle fudge.
"Limited supply," Dumbledore said.
"Likely best if I stay away from this memorial too," Harry grumbled.
"Ron," Hermione repeated.
"Sayonara," Harry said to the Headmaster.
Harry's hand back to Hermione, the disapparation, the apparation, to the warmer temperatures, the cafe, and entered. Red and blond hair at the table.
"How far?" Ron asked.
Harry set the treacle fudge down.
"Oh," Ron said, "Guess that's far."
Hermione sat, across from Ron, the plates that were full.
"Best eat up," Harry said, "Know we're forcing ourselves—I am."
Harry broke the fudge up into four, set one into the cup of tea.
"You didn't mention the pending execution to Dumbledore," Hermione said.
"That'd lose him his last will to live," Harry said.
"It's not like that's far away," Ron said.
"How far?" Gia asked.
"Ignorance is better," Harry replied.
"Have you considered a sperm bank?" Gia asked.
Hermione stared at her, as did Harry.
"Life after death," Gia said.
"Think we'd rather not die," Ron said.
"Thank you," Gia said, "What if that shark had succeeded? I'd like options."
"I'll think about it," Harry said as he stood. Ron followed Harry to the condiment bar.
Hermione sighed, stared at Gia's blue eyes, turned the fork to the steak salad before her.
"I'd like them both to survive," Hermione said.
"Me too," Gia said, "Enough talk, enough close calls, gotta face the possibility they won't survive."
Hermione unsure if that meant herself too.
"Lets plan to survive," Hermione said.
"It's insurance," Gia said, "Something of them to live on should the rumor be true."
Hermione sighed, knew the plan was wise, it was the outcome she didn't want to contemplate. Harry returned, and sat.
"Keep an eye out as we travel," Harry said, "Hope it doesn't come to it, but…yeah, be good to carry the lineage on."
Ron sat down. Harry nibbled on the treacle fudge, ate at the pancakes. Ron worked his scrambled eggs with ketchup on top. They stayed quiet until they finished eating. Gia sipped at her tea. Hermione traced the orange strip around the cafe, over each table.
"Suppose it's time," Gia said.
"Suppose you two could go and hide out in the office of The Daily Prophet," Harry said.
"No," Hermione said.
Ron shook his head.
"Let's…" Harry stood.
Hermione stood, followed Harry out onto the road.
"I'll see you Monday," Harry said.
Harry turned, wand drawn, he and Gia vanished. Red hair, Ron stood there.
"Go swimming or something else?" Ron said, "Wildlife safari?"
Hermione kept her eyes on the freckled face beneath the red hair.
"Not like we can camp out in Flourish and Blotts," Ron said, "Let's…"
Ron pulled out the Portkey, activated it, and she held on. A jerk behind the naval, the warm air, the row of diveshops along the pebble beach.
"There it is," Ron said, "First…money."
Hermione walked with Ron, up the narrow road, to the first teller machine. Ron inserted the debit card.
"Wildlife safari would be…you're already on one," Ron said, "Me."
Hermione snorted. Ron turned to her, hands to her sides, leaned down and kissed.
"Better?" Ron asked.
They turned, headed for the beach. A right, to the end, to the building with the shark around Gillyweed.
"This would be the place," Hermione said.
Up the steps, to the counter, and Hermione knew Ron was about to make his father jealous, though she also wondered about Harry and Gia.
…
Harry watched as Ron and Hermione vanished.
"We…" Gia started.
"Had to know," Harry said, "We're doing good, they…bit more stressed."
"Not easy," Gia said.
"I know," Harry said, thinking of Hagrid, "Wildlife sounds good. Lets…"
Harry turned around. Gia with him, they went back into the cafe, to the counter.
"Not satisfied—?" the lady asked.
"Bad news soured it—not your fault," Harry said, "We're tourists, thought we'd try off the beaten path. However, where would be a good spot for wildlife watching?"
"What are you interested in?" the lady asked, "Plenty of monkeys in the city."
Harry turned to Gia, the blue eyes.
"There's a tiger reserve," the lady said, "South end of Koyna Wildlife Sanctuary, about a hundred kilometers south of here."
"No wrestling please," Gia said.
Harry kissed her, the hands to her shoulders.
"Tiger in the locker room?" Gia whispered.
Harry snorted.
"Let's find tigers," Harry said, "Worthy of Hagrid."
Harry turned to the lady.
"Thank you," Harry said.
"Sahyadri tiger reserve," the lady said.
Harry and Gia left the cafe. Harry walked into an alley behind a hotel, next to the dumpster, and summoned his broom.
"You keep getting tales with this," Gia said, "What if you get stuck in an alternate reality?"
"Then I'm stuck there, with you," Harry said, "Not a bad outcome, and if they're not trying to kill me, all the better. Or, we end up at the tiger reserve, which is more likely."
Harry mounted it; Gia got on behind him.
"Tigers or bust," Gia said.
Invisibility to them both, Harry rose up on the broom. Name of the reserve in his head, Harry flew south.
Later, sweat to Harry's skin as they entered the confines of the ice cream parlor. Up to the counter, a point, the extra large banana split, and Gia carried it to a small table, where they sat across from each other.
"Certainly acting like you're about to be executed," Gia said, her spoon to the dish, "It's most definitely a honeymoon."
Harry reached into his hip pocket, curious to any more pictures being ready, wanted to see a couple of the tiger shots. Harry reached, grabbed a spoon, and worked into the ice cream, tasted the vanilla across his tongue, while he thought on the response.
"Divination is tricky," Harry said, "Take… a person walks down the street, and a piano falls on them, dead." Harry's fist to the table. "You send a message, they're about to be killed. Do they still walk down the street? Maybe if they go five minutes earlier, be spared, unless somebody's aiming."
"I get it," Gia said.
"We've got three who've said it," Harry said, "Be foolish to ignore the warning, but I don't know what to make of it… I mean, how to avoid execution? Do I want to avoid it?"
Gia glared.
"Maybe me being executed sets in motion what's needed to vanquish Voldemort," Harry said, "Maybe that's why Dumbledore didn't bother with checking up on my well being with the Dursleys, that I wouldn't have a life worth sparing when it came time."
Harry took another bite.
"I don't want to be burying you," Gia said.
"Except…" Harry thought about it. "You won't, there aren't any—otherwise…" Neville's words came back, the accusation of being missing in action, the denial Neville wanted to believe. "Yeah, there's no bodies."
Harry reached, fingered her, and he stared into her blue eyes beneath the long blond hair. She sighed.
"You've helped me find a life worth fighting for," Harry said, "I'm not planning on going down without one."
"Thank you," Gia said.
"However we plan for both," Harry said, "Get it setup so you're taken care of. I'm sure the Weasleys or Kristen or Sirius or one of our many friends would watch out for you until you're settled. We get in a few more of these trips, so you've got times to cherish, to tell the kids."
"Not pleasant," Gia said.
"And…we plan on living," Harry said, "Maybe I'll figure it out, stop the execution. Maybe they were from another alternate too, where I had been executed, and this reality is the one where I succeed."
A slight grin came to her face.
"Not sure where to head," Harry said, "Except to keep doing as I've been doing, and you're giving me something to focus on."
Harry watched as she worked the sundae.
Wednesday afternoon, Gia watched the camera, Harry next to her as the shutter pressed several times.
"Anything else?" Harry asked.
Gia turned around, the Taj Mahal behind them. He pulled out the Puddlemere United pin, and she knew. Camera to her, one she put into her hip pocket.
"You know we can't loiter," Harry said, "Focus on what you'd like to see next."
Harry's wand out, the trigger, the activation. She held on, and felt the usual jerk behind the naval. Trees around the ditch as they landed, surrounded by a chain link fence, cars that were parked within the lot. Harry moved, lifted, and she climbed over the fence, and he followed.
"Graceland?" Harry asked.
"Home of Elvis Presley," Gia said, "Think we can do this."
A small queue of people waited to enter.
"Timezones," Harry said.
Harry's lips up to hers, the kiss, on her shoulders.
"Lets get in," Gia said.
They walked up to the ticket office.
Neville heard the giggle as he entered the Transfiguration classroom. Lavender Brown, Morag MacDougal, Lisa Turpin were going over the pages to The Daily Prophet, the ones with pictures of Harry and the tigers.
"He's a monster," said Seamus Finnigan, the canary yellow, from the left side of the room.
"Adorably cute Dark Wizard," Lavender Brown said.
"You whipped him," Parvati said, at the desk behind Lavender.
"Like tigers," Lisa Turpin said, "Best observed from a distance—mind you, the distance."
Pfffpt!
"Will you sit down?" Finnigan snapped at Neville.
Neville turned, his back toward Finnigan, summoned the will for another pass.
Pfffpt! Pfffpt!
"Disgusting," Finnigan said.
"That's what I think of you," Neville replied.
Neville sat next to Parvati.
"We're stuck here yet Potter's playing with tigers!" Finnigan shouted.
"Mr. Potter is suspended," said Professor McGonagall as she entered, "His only stipulation is to not be at Hogwarts, otherwise, he's at liberty to do as he pleases, even if that means putting himself in danger."
She pointed to The Daily Prophet on the desk.
"Suggest you put that away until later," Professor McGonagall said, "Please, essays."
Groans, the sheets of parchment that were passed up.
Hermione laughed Thursday morning as she read into Wednesday's The Daily Prophet.
"What?" Ron asked, on the other side of the upper floor pub table.
Ron's eyes as blue as the Philippine water they overlooked. Hermione handed it over, the pictures of Harry, him cuddling the tiger cub in the lap while nursing it, baby bottle full of milk, the other hand giving a belly rub.
"Guess we know what Harry's been up to," Ron said.
"That paper has Harry in five different locations on Tuesday," Hermione said, "Fiji."
"Eww…that's not right," Ron said as he flipped the page, "Counting out every bone?"
"Suriname, Nauru, Hogsmeade," Hermione said, "And wherever that tiger was. Of the five, I'd go with the tiger."
"That's…that'd be Harry," Ron said, "The Hogsmeade one lacks the scars."
Hermione leaned forward.
"That's…interesting," Hermione said.
Ron reached down to his fork, ate.
"It means…something interfered with the Polyjuice," Hermione said.
Ron's eyes to hers.
"It's gotta," Hermione said, "Normally, bit of the person. Whether it uses your current essence or that of you as it was at harvest… not an issue with five minutes."
"Normally if you get a scar, our impostors should have that, right?" Ron said, "Point of polyjuice."
"Except we're untrackable," Hermione said, "It affected the ring, now this? It was the right thing to do, the impostor Harry will lack the new scars, at least until new hairs are procured."
"Dear Dumbledore," Ron said, "We elect to continue the suspension on fear somebody may give us a haircut."
Hermione snorted.
"Buys us time," Hermione said, "We should—"
"One more dive and we certify," Ron said, cutting her off, "Have to show Dad this one."
Hermione glared.
"We're here," Ron said, "One thing to spend Harry's money, another to waste it. After the cards… wherever."
Hermione sighed.
"Besides…they're all asleep right now," Ron said, "Starting to get the timezone thing down."
"Finally," Hermione muttered.
Ron wiped his lips, stood. They left the pub, headed down the boardwalk. Ron held her, the heartbeat of his, one she worried would cease sooner than she'd like.
Feet on the damp granite and old mudbrick in the middle of Friday morning, Gia followed Harry in the corridor of this Pyramid. They reached the vaulted room, wide enough for the sarcophagus laid to its end.
"It's fake," Harry said, the hand that felt it, "Yep, it's magic."
Gia stood there next to Harry.
"We'll get in?" Gia asked.
"Not today," Harry said, "I'd expect there's traps—that's Bill's specialty, maybe Hermione in a pinch."
Harry turned to her, eyes to her.
"We know where it is," Harry said, "Best to be muggle tourists."
Gia reached, held him. Harry kissed her.
"Think it's about that time," Harry said.
Harry held her, the tightness, the disapparation, the apparation, into Kristen's office.
"Guess I should consider a watch?" Harry asked.
"Avril should be back in a few," Kristen said, "Trouble with you—never a knock to the door."
"Front doors mean more people to witness us coming and going," Harry said.
Harry paced, sat down on a chair. Gia sat with him.
"Spotted one picture of you with a tiger cub," Kristen said, the coffee mug between her hands. She sipped. "Going for the adventure?"
"Honeymoon," Gia said, "Rumors, the bounties, figured its better to celebrate now, do the ceremony later."
"Eloping," Kristen said.
"Lets see," Harry said as he pulled out The Daily Prophet from his hip pocket, "What?"
Gia read over Harry's shoulder.
=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=v=
Friday 25 April 1997
Skeeter Eliminated
Rita Skeeter, the once respectable journalist, was killed yesterday on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. No formal investigation is warranted due to her being listed under the SDWCA, freeing us of any squandered Ministry resources on the obvious. A couple of Hogwarts students are claiming credit to the kill on Potter's instruction, showing what happens to those who ally themselves with Harry Potter. Beware and heed the signs Albus Dumbledore.
Kristen's eyes to them.
"A reporter who was starting to do…investigative reporting," Harry said, "Seemed to be turning a leaf, cut down on whatever she was uncovering."
Harry stood, paced back and forth. Kristen took The Daily Prophet and read into it.
"Also claims Maldives and Samoa," Kristen said, "It's like you're on a diet of one or two strikes per day, it's trying to show a pattern, to each country."
"Ouch." Harry turned to her, leaned against her desk, and his eyes toward her in her chair. "And we're now world travelers out of necessity."
"Where were you yesterday?" Kristen asked.
"Woke up in Memphis—the states," Gia said, "Ended up in Egypt."
"How fast does that travel take?" Kristen asked.
"Minute," Gia said.
Harry nodded as Kristen's eyes turned to him.
"Any restrictions?" Kristen asked.
"If there's wards or something," Harry said.
"Practically none?" Kristen said, "You could be in…say Seattle, in five minutes?"
Harry nodded.
"Tokyo five minutes later?" Kristen asked.
"Slow," Harry said, "But yes."
"Even if you take a thousand pictures," Kristen said, "You've got the problem of not being able to form a solid alibis, because… you could be swimming with the sharks, pop off to the Maldives for a bit of shark feed, and be back swimming with the sharks. Any alibis can't hold the water."
"Ouch," Harry said.
Tall, a lady in uniform entered.
"Avril," Kristen said, "This is Harry, he's got a camera, think you can spare an hour?"
The lady nodded, as Harry pulled out the Canon SLR with a telephoto lens. Harry followed Avril out of the office, and Gia loitered.
"Memphis?" Kristen asked.
"Home of Elvis Presley," Gia said.
"Know you're forced to," Kristen said, "Still, seeing what the world has to offer, must be good."
Gia nodded.
"Hermione goes off to some mysterious school," Gia said, "Shows up years later with the most handsome of blokes I can't keep my hands off, and…my life's not been the same."
Gia chatted with Kristen, until Harry returned. A fast activation of the portkey, and they landed in the African country of Gabon.
Date: Wed Mar 13 08:13:23 2024