On the Road Again...

A/N: I have no idea where this story’s going. Like Steven Spielberg once said, the greatest of things come with a moment caught in cinematic imagination. I had this wonderful view of Harry sitting on a motorcycle driving on the highway and I’m currently reading “On the Road.” Great book, but it got me to thinking. Harry’s gotta have urges to flee his life, mr. Fucking-famous Harry Potter, and what better way than the muggle way? So like I said, no idea where this is going, I have no idea how long it’ll be, no idea what’ll happen in the next chapter...I think for once, this story is just a continuously existing outlet for my life and its troubles. Writing has this splendid way of making everything seem not so serious and letting you take a breather, get a different view of the situation and delve right back in. Hope you like, anyway.

As for my other stories, if anyone’s interested, I’ve got all next chapters almost finished. I’m just in a writing stump for them, for some reason. Oh well.

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On the Road Again...

Chapter One

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She didn’t understand. Didn’t understand that I had to get away from it all. The tabloids, the screaming, the thrown underwear.

Her.

That I had to get away from her. Had to get away from her smile, those eyes, the way she would ruffle my hair. I had to get away before I did something we’d both regret...I’d rather leave with my own self deluded fantasies than lose her.

I just didn’t realize that with my escape...I’d find myself. And her. I’d find us.

It started when we got home after a Cannon’s game after party. Completely wasted and dizzy beyond relief, we fell on the same couch and after some maneuvering, fell asleep. I woke up to a pain in my lower back with an even greater nuisance pounding away in my head and some very bushy hair sticking to my left cheek. Fixing my glasses, I looked down to find Hermione’s eyes peering up at me, still slightly dazed, and a small smile adorning her features.

“G’morning, beautiful,” she whispered, grinning as I tightened my hold around her waist and pulled her closer to me. My head hurt and my stomach grumbled and all I wanted to do was rest my head on her collarbone.

“It hurts,” I whined as her hands found their way to the back of my head, her fingers playing with locks of my hair as she giggled. I could feel her laughter reverberating through her chest and I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and once again finding sleep.

I woke up to find that she had somehow moved out of my grasp and I could hear her humming in the shower.

I don’t know why, but something changed in me that day. That morning. Waking up to see her eyes so close to mine, our limbs entwined and her body flush against me awoke something feral and undeniable in me.

I wanted Hermione.

I mean sure, I wanted to sleep with her...no one could deny that she was a woman now. But it was more than that...even though the idea that I wanted to bang my best friend infuriated me. I wanted more than that.

I wanted her, with everything I could give and anything she would allow.

But I couldn’t think that. I tried to hide it, deny it, but to no avail. I’d see her brushing her teeth in the morning and find myself smiling, my eyes tracing her legs as she rubbed her foot along her calf. I’d find her reading on the couch and breathe deeply, imagining little tykes nestled in her arms as she read a bedtime story. I’d see her taking a nap and want to wrap my arms around her and feel her warmth shield me from unquestionable nightmares.

I had to get away.

I knew sooner or later I’d do something. When she gave me a goodnight hug I might refuse to let her go. When she gave me a good morning kiss I might pull her back for another, and another, until I coaxed my way into force-snogging my best friend. Or when she dressed up for yet another date, in those fuck-me heels and that tight red dress, I might just lose myself completely and lock the both of us into my bedroom to have my way with her.

That’s what she didn’t understand. She didn’t understand just what she ignited in me, how biting her lip while reading the morning paper made my trousers too tight and how smiling at me made me want to propose on the spot.

I didn’t understand it, either. How could I go from considering her as Hermione to, well, Hermione?

“Women are delusional,” Ron told me, his mouth full of chocolate cake. I sat across from him with a sure grimace on my face as he spit his way through sentence after sentence. It was far from entertaining...revolting, more like. “They have this way of making a bloke go crazy. It’s not your fault, mate. It’s them. It’s always the birds and their ways.”

“This is why you can’t find a girlfriend,” Ginny replied, shaking her head as we exchanged grins. “Or someone to rock your headboard.”

“I’ll have you know I have plenty of notches on my bedpost,” Ron said, piling more sweets onto his plate.

“Pity sex,” Ginny said, taking a sip of her water. “It’s all just pity.”

“They just want a piece of Ron Weasley, Sex God.”

“Eugh, my virgin ears! Save me, Bilius.”

“Virgin my ass.”

“I think I’m going to go on a road trip.”

Ginny and Ron stopped their bickering to glance at me, wary looks in their eyes.

“A road trip?” Ron said, swallowing the last of his desert as he cocked his head. “Again?”

I shrugged.

Ginny glanced at me and sighed, dabbing the corner of her mouth with her napkin before saying, “Harry, I would’ve thought that you of all people would understand that running away doesn’t fix anything.”

“Sure it does,” Ron said. “You just take a breather from it all. It fixes stuff.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Ginny replied, glaring at her brother before looking at me. “It doesn’t, Harry. All it does is stall the inevitable until you come back home and you have to deal with your problems again.”

“What if I don’t come home?” I whispered, twisting my fork in my noodles absentmindedly.

“Does Hermione know about this?” Ron asked.

“...No.”

“She’s not going to like this,” Ron muttered.

“Where the hell are you gonna go? Alone? Are you going alone?”

“Yes,” I said, bristling slightly at Ginny’s tone. “And I don’t know...wherever! That’s the whole point, okay? I just want to get away from this fuck-hole, I don’t care where.”

“How long are you going to be gone?” she asked, suddenly looking sad.

“I don’t know. Merlin, now I regret telling you guys this. If I’d known you...” God, they were pissing me off. How could they do this to me, right as I’m about to leave? I’m not dying, or anything...and here they are, making me feel guilty while I’m trying to do the better good. Infuriating. “I’m going home.”

“Harry, wait.”

I sighed, immediately feeling the guilt increase tenfold as I turned around. Ginny had tears in her eyes, her bottom lip trembling slightly as she swallowed quickly. I glanced at Ron to find his eyes wide as he looked at his sister, who was normally never this vulnerable.

“Don’t get so prissy, Potter. How can you tell us that you’re going to leave and not expect anything from us? Are we that stupid? Do you think we’re that stupid?!”

Thankfully we were having dinner at Ginny’s flat and not at a restaurant as she began yelling, tears dropping lazily onto her plate.

“When you defeated Voldemort, I thought...I thought it’d be okay, you know. We’d all be okay. You’d be okay. I mean, you wouldn’t have a crazed killer after you anymore. Sure, you’d have crazy fans and more stalkers than imaginable, but you were used to that, weren’t you? Call me crazy, but I thought you’d be happy! You’d be okay! We’d be okay!”

“We are okay, Gin,” Ron whispered, gently laying his hand on hers and stroking her palm with his thumb.

“Then why’s Harry leaving? Why does he feel the need to go on yet another road trip?! What’re you trying to find, Harry? What can’t you get here, with us? What are you missing when you’re with us?”

“This isn’t about you,” I muttered, taking in her tears and her sighs and her screaming. “Gin, this isn’t about you, or Ron, or about us. We are okay...it’s just me. I...I just have to get away...can’t you understand that? It’s not like I’m leaving forever, I just want to get away for a bit...I can’t...I can’t tell you why...”

“And why not, Potter?! Why can’t you fucking tell us? What more do you have to hide!”

“What does that mean?” I screamed back, Ginny standing up as I marched back to the table. “What the fucking hell does that mean?!”

“You’re always hiding something from us, Harry! How can you doubt that, when you do it nearly every day of your fucking life? Me, Hermione, even Ron! We’re your best friends and you still don’t trust us!”

“It’s not a matter of trusting you, damnit! Why do you have to assume that it’s about you?!”

“Who else would it be about!”

“ME!”

“If it’s about you, it’s about us as well, you fucking idiot!”

“Don’t call me a fucking idiot!”

“I’ll call you what you are, Potter!”

“What do you want from me, Ginny?! Huh?! What the fuck do you want!”

“For you to tell us the truth!”

“What truth? Why can’t you get that I want to get away from being me, being Harry Potter?”

“Because that’s not true! It’s not!”

“What the fuck makes you think it’s not?!”

“Because you’ve been Harry Potter for your entire fucking life and you’ve been okay with it! This is something else, something you can’t bear to tell us, and it’s driving me crazy! What the fuck can’t you share, huh?! What’s so sacred that none of us can hear about it?!”

“That I’m fucking in love with Hermione!”

Speechless.

What the fuck did I just say?

Oh, dear Merlin.

I turned around and once I stepped outside Ginny’s door, I apparated. Right as I raised my wand I heard Ron shouting a protest but I closed my eyes and concentrated and I found myself in my garage, next to my motorcycle. Sirius’ motorcycle.

I sighed, just counting the seconds before Ginny and Ron would follow. Or maybe they’d floo to Hermione’s and tell her to come my way. I had to leave.

Now.

“C’mon baby,” I whispered, patting the motorcycle as I lifted my right leg over it, “Let’s go for a ride.”

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I found myself imagining America.

I realized, while I was driving away from my flat, that I’d already been everywhere in Europe I had any desire of wanting to be in.

Australia too.

And I didn’t really like sushi.

So I switched lanes and 30 minutes later I was knocking on Susan Bones’ door.

“Harry?” she whispered, her eyes wide as she unlocked her front door. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?”

“I need a favor, Susy.”

Susan Bones and I had gotten close my sixth and seventh year and before you know it, we were dating. Well, not exactly...I couldn’t say that or else Voldie would’ve been mad with jealousy and tried to take her, too. But we were, in the kissing and holding hands sense. Kissing and holding hands in secret sorta sense. I guess that makes it dating secretly.

“A favor that brings you to my door at 10:30 on a Saturday night? I could have someone over!”

She opened the door anyway, ushering me in before checking the streets and locking the door behind me.

“Thanks, Susan.”

“Damnit Potter, always assuming the world revolves around your big head.” She grinned at me affectionately and made her way to the kitchen, me trailing behind.

“You want something to drink?”

“No, I’m allright.”

But we just didn’t work out. Even when a relationship seems perfect and the two people are completely content...they’re just not happy. There’s just a chemistry that loses its edge and eventually, subtly, drops from the relationship to make it too platonic for romance.

“You sure? I’ve got your poison in the fridge.”

We stayed in touch after we parted ways. I saw her everyday at work as it was and we remained good friends...it was impossible not to be good friends with Susan Bones.

“Oh, well, then bring it out.”

“Two chocolate milks it is.”

An hour later we were lounging on the sofa, watching Star Wars. While dating, I had introduced her to muggle cinema and she couldn’t get enough.

“Did you see episode III, Harry?”

“Unfortunately.”

“It was horrible, wasn’t it?”

“I suppose it wasn’t horrible...but it certainly wasn’t good. I mean, Darth Vader was just...oh, oh, oh no, I just killed Mace Windu! The tragedy...I now pledge my allegiance to you! What the bleeding hell was that!”

“Or the ‘noooooo’ at the very end!” We both erupted into giggles–the chocolate milk was making me quite content. “Did you see the wiggle? He wiggled!”

“Or the fake love scenes?”

“Padme Amidala my ass. Where’s the kick-arse Leia we all love and adore? How she could have been formed from Amidala’s egg I just don’t understand! ‘Anakin, you’re breaking my heart!’ I nearly peed my pants–it was so hard containing my laughs!”

When I was with Susan it felt like being a muggle again, Harry nobody. It’s not like I didn’t feel that with Ron, Ginny or Hermione...but it was different. We had shared so much, gone through so much together...they were a part of me in a way I didn’t even understand. But Susan was like a fresh breath of air from my life, something completely sane and normal and unbelievably, perfectly, exactly what I needed right now.

Even though I knew I needed it, I couldn’t help but miss them already. Especially Hermione. How long would it take before I allowed myself to see her again? A week? A month?

“Look, Susan...to be perfectly honest, I came here for a selfish favor...”

“Ah, and I had assumed it was my wonderful company.”

“You’re wrong. I came for the chocolate milks.”

“My only talent.”

“You’re also in charge of the Portkey Network at the Ministry.”

Susan glanced at me warily, tracing her cup with her index finger as she held it in her hands.

“That I am,” she finally said.

“Susan, I’m...taking another road trip.”

“Ah,” she whispered, placing her cup on her coaster and idly playing with the remote.

“And you know, I thought...I thought I’d go to America this time.”

“And you need someone to get you a portkey to transport you and your motorcycle vehicle to an America city at either east or west coast and to get you a portkey for you and your motorcycle vehicle for a journey home without anyone knowing or any paperwork accompanying your portkey.”

Susan grinned at me, giggling before biting her lip and turning back to the tv screen.

“Why, Mr. Potter, I thought you’d never ask.”

“What’s that mean?”

“It means I’ve already got one arranged.” Noticing my bewildered look she rolled her eyes, patting my hand before saying, “No need to look so surprised, I knew you’d want to visit American strippers sometime or another.”

“Susan, you’re a life saver.”

“And I expect you’d want me to lie to Hermione or Ron or whoever as well?”

“If you wouldn’t mind...”

“I don’t know, Harry. A secret portkey is one thing, lying to Hermione Granger about your whereabouts is another...”

But I knew she’d do it.

The phone rang a few minutes later and Susan paused the movie, grabbed it and said, “Hello?”

Susan also loved the telephone. Flooing her head into other people’s fireplaces was never her style and she hated the compact mirror two-way views now on the market. She confided in me that she loved the idea of being completely disheveled and still being able to talk to your boyfriend without being worried about makeup.

“Woah, Hermione, calm down!”

I nearly choked on my popcorn.

“Harry? Harry’s done what? Oh, not another road trip...I swear the boy’s critically insane...well, I wish I could help, but I haven’t seen him...no, he hasn’t said anything to me...although...yes, he did say that he’s always wanted to go back to France...I know, it’s so like him, isn’t it? Just leaving and up and about...he’s always loved French food...I know, if I hear anything I’ll just give you a ring...don’t worry, Hermione, I’m sure he’s fine. He’s defeated Voldemort, he can watch his back against a few struggling Deatheaters. Yeah. You too. G’night.”

“Thank you.”

“Just promise me you’ll make this one a quick one, okay? The last time you were out you were gone for two months...Hermione was crazy with worry. The two of you should just marry now.”

Second time I nearly choked on my popcorn.

“What?”

“Oh don’t be surprised, I know you’re head over heels and she’s crazy about you too, she just doesn’t know it yet.”

“That’s a far-fetched idea.”

“You wanna stay and finish up the movie?”

“Sure...why not. Anything for some more of your chocolate milk.”

Susan smiled at me, nestling herself further within her sofa cushions and playing the movie.

“We seem to be made to suffer,” C-3PO said. “It’s our lot in life.”

Ditto.

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reviewing’s good for the soul...

A/N: Susan Bones came from a fanfiction I read where Harry and Susan were a couple. It was an amazing piece of writing and I’ve become accustomed to Harry and Susan together...no, they won’t ever get together (again) in this story, but I like the idea of Harry branching out socially during his last two years at Hogwarts, and Susan reminds me of my friend, who she’s based off of in this story.

As for the Star Wars references, I figure they’re old enough now to be in the year 2005, therefore being able to watch Episode III. What a disappointment. Flame me all you want, but I’d prefer if you criticized my story rather than my views on how Lucas bemired the Star Wars saga with his prequel trilogy.