On their way through the hotel lobby, Harry and Hermione stopped to watch one of the moving statues--a woman dressed in white robes with a painted face and arms who would stand perfectly still, then move and hold that position for a minute or so before shifting again.
"That's so cool!" Hermione said, captivated by the artistic expression.
"It's freaky," Harry disagreed. She slapped his arm playfully before announcing that she was going to take a photo. To Harry's horror, she asked another stranger to snap a photo of them in front of the living statue. With the wizard film, the woman's moves would be captured as well.
They decided to get sandwiches from a nearby deli to take back to their room. They rented a movie to watch while they ate. They sat on the extra bed while eating and watching the film.
"Are you sleepy?" Harry asked after the film was over.
"Not really. You?"
"Nope."
"Let's go out on the balcony," Hermione suggested after they had changed into their sleepwear. She knew it would be a peaceful, private place to talk. She grabbed a blanket off the spare bed to take it with them. It was a breezy night and even in the summer, she suspected they may get cool.
"Do you think your parents will want to get together tomorrow night?" Harry asked after they made a cacoon of the blanket. They opted to sit on the floor of the balcony, rather than put to use the chairs. This way they could wrap up and cuddle.
"I imagine so," she answered. "It has been twenty-four hours since we saw them, afterall."
"At least you remembered to call," he grinned.
"Maybe they were too busy to notice how long it took," she said sheepishly. "I can't help it. I was having too much fun with you."
"Yeah, blame me. That'll get me points with your dad!" Harry teased.
"You've made enough points with my mom. She'll take care of my dad," Hermione laughed. He was making points with her by showing her that beautiful smile right now.
They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the waves crash onto the shore, feeling the wind against their flesh. They were very surprised when a seagull flew toward them and landed on the railing. It hopped down and came to a stop by Harry. By then, it was obvious that the bird was carrying a piece of parchment.
"Who would know we were here?" Harry asked, untying the message. He stroked the gull's head and said, "Thank you." He had nothing to give the bird since he hadn't expected any post to be delivered to him while he was in New Jersey.
He held the paper so that Hermione could see it as he opened it. "You are being watched," was all it said. There was no signature and no way to tell who had sent it.
"Who sent it?" Hermione asked even though she knew Harry didn't know the answer any more than she did.
"No idea." Harry said shortly. His spirit fell instantly. He had been enjoying himself so much today and here was the wizarding world invading his vacation with the girl he loved. "Can't they leave me alone for one... minute?" He could have used stronger language, but held his tongue out of respect for Hermione.
"Well, it must be from the Order. Or Dumbledore," Hermione reasoned. It felt almost as if Harry had gone cold, so she tightened her grip on the blanket, holding him closer. "I mean, the Death Eaters surely wouldn't let you know they were watching you, right?"
"Unless it's their way of telling me I'm not safe anywhere," Harry answered, looking away from her. He felt all the despair, sorrow, and dread he'd been battling coming back heavily upon him. "I suppose I wasn't being paranoid enough."
"Don't you shut down on me, Harry Potter!" Hermione warned, sensing his heartache and the way he was caving in upon himself. She gently guided him to face her again.
"Or maybe you're right and it's Dumbledore telling me I can't run away, that I have to do what I have to do. I don't have any options." He pulled his knees tightly to his chest and tried to look away again, but she wouldn't let him.
"What?" Hermione asked. She took his hand in her own. "Tell me, Harry." She was watching him intently, saw the flood of emotions flashing through his eyes. "What do you have to do?"
"I need a break!" Harry exclaimed, ignoring her question. "I need time... time to deal with Sirius's death... and they won't even let me have that. Why can't I just be here in America with the girl I love and not have to worry about Voldemort for a few days? I just... I can't... I can't do anything about it right now, can I?" he asked on the virge of frustrated tears.
"No, you can't," Hermione said. "And you do deserve a break," for the first time Hermione began to feel angry at Dumbledore. "They act like it's your personal responsibility to take out Voldemort singlehandedly," she huffed. "They have aurors and fully trained adult wizards who can fight him. They have the entire Order--"
"It is," Harry interrupted her softly. He held eye contact with her, watching as she realized what he had said.
"What?" she asked, obviously shocked. Her grip on his hand was tighter.
"It is," he repeated. "It's my personal responsibility to kill Voldemort... or die trying," he blinked back the tears that threatened to spill. He would not cry. He would be the brave little Gryffindor he had chosen to be.
"But," Hermione started, but didn't know how to continue. Tears were burning in her eyes too. She knew that Voldemort was after Harry and wanted nothing more than to kill him to avenge his defeat years ago. "Why?"
"The Prophecy. The one he was after in the Ministry. It was predicted before I was born," he explained.
"What did it say?" Hermione asked tentatively. The part of her that wanted to know was raging against the part that didn't think she could bear to think of Harry's being in more danger than she knew.
"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies." He recited the prophecy. He had gone over it so many times in his mind that it was burned in his memory.
Hermione had gone a ghostly shade of white. "Well... that could be... anyone," she offered.
"No. It could have been me or Neville."
"Neville?" she repeated. She could hardly imagine Neville being a dangerous threat to Voldemort. His heart was in the right place, but he was hardly a strong wizard.
"But he chose me. He marked me." With his free hand, he pointed to the scar on his forehead. "That's why he killed my parents. He thought it would be easier to kill me when I was a baby."
"He's a coward then," Hermione said. She never realized that Voldemort had actually been seeking to kill Harry that night. She had thought he was intent on killing his parents and Harry was just another prospective casualty.
"They died because of me," Harry said sadly. "They died trying to protect me."
"Harry," Hermione started softly, "What would you have done if you were them? You wouldn't invite him in and say, 'Okay, here's the baby. Leave us alone.'"
"They should have," Harry answered. Those pesky tears were starting to fall now.
"Harry," her voice was very soothing, "Harry, that's not the way parents are." She knew the Dursleys would have gladly handed him over to spare themselves and, unfortunately, they were Harry's model of parents. "He would have killed them anyway. They were his enemies."
He was silent, knowing what she said was true, but still wishing that his parents could have lived.
Hermione's voice turned hopeful as she thought of the rest of the prophecy. "He couldn't kill you when you were a baby. And it said you have power that he knows not. So--"
"My mom," Harry answered. "She died to save me and it left a protection. Voldemort got around that when he used my blood to bring him back. He can touch me now. He has." Harry felt a sickening chill as he remember the man's fingers on his cheek.
"Maybe it's something else," she said hopefully. Afterall, if he knows not, maybe you know not too," she realized the argument sounded stupid, but it made sense to her anyway.
Harry shrugged. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to him. He absently wondered if they could find him in Australia.
"Well, that settles it then," Hermione said firmly. "We'll kill him. Okay, you'll kill him, but I'll stand by you every step of the way."
Harry shook his head, "No, Hermione. You've been in enough danger because of me. I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to loose you."
"When are you going to learn that it's useless to argue with me?" she asked as she leaned forward to kiss him. "Don't even try," she added breathlessly. They continued to kiss, loosing themselves and their worries in each other. Even Voldemort could not interfere with this love that was growing stronger every day.