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Love and Loyalty by HandofFate
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Love and Loyalty

HandofFate

Finding Hermione--Chapter 5

Harry stood on the platform in stunned silence. The smell of her freshly washed, perfumed hair still filled his nostrils. He was not sure what to do. He had not come to tell her that he loved her and that he wanted her more than anything in the world, but suddenly that was how he felt. It was a crushing blow to realize how stupid he had been. He ran his tongue over his lips where hers had just touched his. He held back the scream for as long as he could. The whistle announcing the impending departure filled the air as Harry screamed, "I love you, Hermione!" His eyes burned.

He looked away from the train back toward Hogwarts. What was left there for him? He mounted his broom hovered for a moment looking at the castle. He never saw Hermione's face in the rear window of the train as it left the station.

"Miss, I thought you said you would not be riding today?" questioned the conductor.

"I'm sorry for that bit of drama, but I could not let him follow me onto the train," said Hermione. "I sincerely apologize for lying." Her tears had subsided enough to talk clearly.

"Who? That handsome young man? Why would you not want him to follow you? I see how you look at one another," asked the conductor aimlessly as he checked the cabinets next to the windows.

"It's complicated and private," she said.

"I'm sorry, Miss. It's a horrible habit of mine to ask things to make small talk. I try not to pry and I have," he said. "Please be careful here. That door can come open unexpectedly. It would be better if you returned to your seat."

"Thank you, I will," said Hermione. "Could you show me where you put my bags first please?"

"Surely," said the conductor. "I can move them if you like. After all, there will be no one else on the train today."

"Thanks that would be kind," said Hermione still sighing in short gasps.

"If you need anything, you can ring. We disable it when the entire student body is here, but it is enabled today," said the conductor.

She smiled and walked into the nearest cabin. She looked at the card she still had in her pocket; Ronald Weasley, it read. She sat down and cried.

* * *

Harry soared over the Hogwarts grounds. He dove toward the ground not wanting to stop. He wondered what would happen if he just pretended the Golden Snitch were four feet underground. Would he survive? He laughed as he pulled up. He realized that he would and it would be excruciatingly painful for a very long time until someone found him or he dragged himself to the Hospital Wing once more. He pulled up at the last second.

After that bit of drama, Harry's head cleared a bit. "I'll bet she Disapparated to her home. She couldn't carry her things. I don't know where that is exactly." He thought carefully about how he might find out where she lived. "What if she sent a note to Ron telling him that she was going to the Burrow early and would meet him there?" Harry knew that was just as likely. The only way he could know was to find those bags, but the train was gone and had been now for nearly ten minutes. He decided to gather a few of his things and meet it in King's Cross. No matter where Hermione was going, the train would go to King's Cross and arrive at four twenty-two.

Harry landed atop the Astronomy Tower. He knew he was in serious trouble when he went inside. Headmistress McGonagall wound not expel him, but she might find something more befitting the crime. She would probably confiscate is broom.

He sat down against the wall to think. What had he done by going to find her at the station? What the hell was he thinking by saying he would set her free? He shook his head. If she thought he was crazy now, he would not blame her. He had acted just as twisted as Ron. "You want her, you don't want her. What the hell is she supposed to do with that?" he asked himself. "You love her but you won't say it."

He sat along the wall with his knees pulled up to his chest for as long as he dared. He wondered whether she had just left without word to anyone, or if she approached Professor McGonagall. Harry knew the answer without thinking too hard. She would not have left school without permission. She had too much respect for the Headmistress to leave her worried about a missing student. At the risk of any sort of punishment, he had to talk to the Headmistress.

In days gone by, Harry would have found a place to hide his broom and given thought to refusing to surrender it. He knew it was a good possibility that would be the punishment. It didn't matter.

He entered the outer chambers and not surprisingly was greeted with an open door. "Come in Mr. Potter," said Professor McGonagall. "I trusted that you would not make me find you."

"Professor, I apologize for flying through the castle. I lost my head and it was wrong," he offered.

"I did not connect the reason for such a blatant disregard for the rules until I heard the rumors a little earlier. They are quite risqué. Having known Miss Granger since she was a mere child of eleven, I don't put much stock in them. However, you have come to the age where it is possible for love to interfere with normal brain function," she said with a trace of humor. "I should guess that that was at least part of your reason as well."

"Yes, Mum," said Harry very respectfully. "I…"

Professor McGonagall shook her head and raised her hand suggesting that no explanation was needed. "Harry, this is not something that I will assist any of the three of you in resolving. That is what I told Miss Granger. I suggested she go wherever she found the most peace. It is what I will tell you too. If Mr. Weasley were to ask, the same advice will be offered to him. You, of course, are the one with limited options."

"Do you know where she went?" asked Harry.

"Harry, if I did, I would not say. I, myself, have not felt the pangs of young love in many years. What I remember is that it can be bittersweet. Often we are left with a choice to learn to love ourselves before we can love others. Even if after completing that process, it means that our decision is based on only our own well-being and that others will suffer the loss of our love and companionship. I chose Hogwarts as my home long ago and while thoughts of what might have been occasionally occur, I have no regrets. You and your classmates are my children now. I offer you this as advice that you would have learned had your parents been alive. I so wish they were, so that you had exposure to that side of love and relationships. But be that as it may, unless you wish to offer your own punishment for your indiscretion, I would leave while you are ahead of the game, so to speak."

Harry took his cue from the Headmistress. The words of the Fat Lady made him turn for one more question. "What could the Fat Lady have possibly meant when she said this happened once before with my parents?" he asked quickly.

"You know of a time when your Father made a serious mistake in judgment. Your Mother was mortified and while she did not leave school early, she left without word to your Father. The Fat Lady often opens her mouth and starts unnecessary speculation. I think if you reflect on what you know, you can come up with the circumstances," said Professor McGonagall.

"Professor, I will be leaving today I think. I will be back after Break," said Harry. Harry was sure she referred to the time Snape was nearly lured into the Shrieking Shack while Lupin was transformed. How that was remotely similar he would determine at some other time.

"I understand, Harry," said the Headmistress. "Do what your heart tells you is best."

Harry hurried back to his trunk in the Hospital Wing. He emptied his book bag. He filled it with the things he would need for a short trip. He wondered if he had time to catch the train before it crossed from the rural countryside into the more densely populated areas. His broom was more then three times as fast as the train and there was still an hour left. He could Disapparate from the train once he found the address and use his invisibility cloak to avoid being seen once aboard.

* * *

Hermione looked at the unsent note addressed to Ron wondering why she had not sent it.

Dearest Ron,

We have loved one another in silence for a very long time. It seems sad that as we reach the age that we can take advantage of it, we are changing. You are off to pursue fame and fortune. You have that right. I am out to pursue my career as well. We need to find the middle ground or we are destined to make each other miserable. I love you, Ron. I will always love you. I never knew that love could change people. It has. You have made me a better person and I hope one day you will say the same about my love for you.

This is not a permanent good-bye, but it is nevertheless good-bye. I must leave you there to decide what life would be like without me. I am off to decide what life would be like without anyone including Harry. I will return when my heart and mind are clear. For now, I say this again. I love you and as you may be already know--sometimes we just hold on too tight to let the love flow freely.

Love,

Hermione

"Sir, is there an owl post where the train could stop?" She shook her head in embarrassment at her question. "Isn't that ridiculous? I'm sorry," said Hermione blushing. "Of course, there were no random owl post spots on the train route."

The conductor seemed to understand the confused state she was in, because he made nothing of it. "No, but I will send mine for you if you wish. Give me a few minutes once we get to King's Cross. I take it that you will still need it sent then?" asked the kindly old wizard. "Agatha is old, but she will do."

"Thank you," said Hermione.

"You know, I should have realized that I could not have sent on your things. You did not have any address on them," said the conductor.

"I did in case he looked. He didn`t, so I removed them once I came aboard," said Hermione. "I should be getting back there now. We'll be arriving soon, won't we?"

"Ah, I didn't catch that. I guess it must be old age," said the conductor with a smile. "It's around four o'clock now, yes Miss."

"You must think that I'm off for some mental institution. First, I don't want him to follow, but I make a point to announce that there is an address on them so that he can find me. I need to rest."

Hermione handed him the note after adding, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

* * *

Harry felt the butterflies growing in his stomach. He never thought it would take this long to locate the train. He finally saw it at three fifty-five. He knew he had only a few minutes before he would have to find a building in King's Cross on which he could land undetected and hope to get to the train before the luggage left Platform Nine and three-quarters. He dared the same crazy stunt he had pulled earlier. He aimed for the rear of the train and went into a dive. His pulse quickened as he noticed the heavy branches of the trees looming in almost the exact place he expected to intercept the train. He steepened then dive to get on the tracks behind it. He raced along behind until he could reach the top and lie flat on the last car. He lay there silently as his breathing came back to normal. He loved the adrenaline rush.

He was glad to be exactly where he was. The train was about to pass through the final trestle on its way into the suburbs. He inched his way back to the rear of the train. He would not use the door because he remembered it for having an alarm if opened. He would simply look in to make sure that the conductor was not there. He wondered if the luggage was still on this end. He hoped it was. He jumped down as his heart pounded at the exhilaration of being on a moving train on the outside. He knew he was crazy, but it was worth it. The coast was clear. He Apparated to just the other side of the door. He took out the invisibility cloak to avoid being seen.

He checked each cabin as he moved forward. Twice he recognized cabins where he had sat on his trips before. The second one made his heart stop. There sat three bags. Harry wondered why the bags were not in the luggage compartment further down, but was glad he had decided to check them anyway. He looked at his watch. Four-oh-two. He stepped in and turned over the first bag, then the second. Finally, he looked under and around the third. "This can't be right," he said. "There is no address."

He decided that maybe he was looking for something too specific. He was not dealing with Muggle post. It might contain something less distinguishable. He looked again. He even checked the handles for the old-fashioned name tags turned inside out. Nothing. His heart sank. He knew the city she lived in. It was Oxford. He saw the familiar light standards and telephone poles that marked entry into the city. He only had minutes.

He must have misjudged the time, he heard the familiar squeal of the brakes as the train slowed and the darkness enveloped the train. They were coming into the station. He looked at his watch. It was four-ten. He heard a man's voice. Harry did not want to be found. He had to leave. He Disapparated. It never occurred to him that a lone conductor would have no reason to speak.

"Ah, almost there. I might as well stay back to get these bags out," he said.

"Sir, are you sure there is no one else on the train?" asked Hermione as the conductor entered the car behind her.

"Positive, Miss. I would have seen them. I make rounds every half-hour, you know that," he said smiling.

"Well, it's just that the bags are in a different order than I had them. Maybe I'm just seeing things," she said sadly. "It's been a very long night and day."

"Do you still want me to send the owl, Miss?" he asked.

"Yes please," she said smiling sadly.

The train arrived at King's Cross six minutes early. Hermione stepped off the train and found a cart for her belongings. The conductor handed them to her. A moment later, a great old snowy owl emerged from the car on the old conductor's arm. "Agatha was my owl at Hogwarts when I was your age. Are you sure, Miss? Forgive an old man, but it seems that this message may change a life much like the little white lie on the platform in Hogsmeade."

"It will. Please, just send it before I change my mind," said Hermione. She watched as it flew away.

* * *

Harry had Apparated amidst the crowded terminal with his broomstick hidden under the invisibility cloak. He found a locker but had no Muggle money to get the key. He needed to get to Gringott's. He would exchange money there. He looked for the men's loo. Once he spotted it, he went in, entered a stall and DisApparated again to The Leaky Cauldron.

It took Harry forty-five minutes to get to Gringott's and the front of the line. He was beside himself as the goblin behind the counter asked him what he needed. He smiled and handed the teller his voucher for one hundred pounds sterling. "Sir, are you sure you care to carry that much with you?" asked the goblin named Mr. Greenthumb.

"Yes please," said Harry. Had he known that amounts that great took longer to procure, he might have asked for less. He was asked to wait in a special area at a desk. Several minutes later, another teller called his name to the counter.

"There you go, Sir. Is their anything else that I might get for you today?" asked the teller.

"No, not unless you can help me find Hermione Granger," he said off-handedly.

The goblin shook his head saying no and looked at him with a listless sigh.

Harry walked out of Gringott's folding the money into three different pockets remembering Aunt Petunia's warning to Dudley on several occasions. He walked along looking at the rebuilt businesses of Diagon Alley. Just last year, nearly all of them had been boarded and closed. The twins had been no different. Harry had an idea. He would go see Fred and George.

Harry hoped that Fred and George would not take Ron's side immediately in a conflict over Hermione. Outwardly, they teased Ron mercifully, but he knew from their attempt to help him that they were still quite close when it came to family affairs. He thought seriously about using blackmail to get any information he could about Hermione or where she might be.

He entered the joke shop with nervous anticipation. George emerged as he heard the buzzer from the door. His expression changed almost immediately as he ducked behind the curtain again. At first, Harry thought it was about the current situation until he heard George call to Fred. "Ahem, it's Harry, Fred."

"Is he pissed?" asked Fred. "What's he doing out of Hogwarts on a Thursday afternoon?"

The two brothers emerged wearing faces of complete contrition. "Harry, honestly. If we had known what happened, we would have done something sooner."

Harry found their expressions almost comical. He knew he could use this to his advantage. For a second, he felt a twinge of guilt until he realized that in part they were to blame for what was happening. Their indiscretion led to Harry's admission of feelings he had successfully buried for a very long time. He knew it was a tenuous premise at best, but one he had to try if they balked at helping him.

"Hey, mates. I owe you plenty for the Marauder's Map. It's fine. Of course, it did steal nearly three months of my life from me," he said with a sarcastic grin.

"So, what are you doing here on a Thursday. We expected you at the Burrow this weekend," said Fred.

Harry had a lot of ways to go to find out what he wanted to know. He thought he'd try just dropping it into casual conversation first, but he hated to lie to set it up. He took a deep breath and let it go. "Well, I told Hermione and Ron I was going to sneak out and get some Muggle money tonight so we could make a trip to her parents. Ron said he'd never been there and offered to let me go with them. I'm just trying to make sure that I have enough for the trip."

Harry emptied his pockets showing the Muggle money he had just withdrawn from Gringott's.

"Bloody hell, I think that would get you there five times over Harry. I mean it's just outside London in Oxford," said Fred. "Wow, maybe Ron should be worried. Rich guy like you, her parents will love you."

"What's that supposed to mean, Fred?" asked Harry with a smile.

"Well, her parents are dentists, Harry. I have no idea whether what you have there is a lot of Muggle money or not, but Ron always worries about how he'll look to her parents. It's one thing to be friends since first year, it's another when they tell them they are seeing each other seriously," said George.

"Come on, Hermione has to have told them by now," said Harry. "That's just not possible. I always assumed that she told them."

"Ron's always worried that he'll never live up to her standards. I think that's why he wants her to go with him to Ireland so bad. I think he's afraid if she's around you too long she'll see what it's like on the other side," said George. "He really thinks there is something between you two."

Harry's face must have given him away, because Fred looked at him strangely. "It's true, isn't it?" he asked. "Are you fooling around with Hermione?"

"Oh sure, while I've been zonked out I secretly whispered love sonnets to her. We've been planning all these months to ruin Ron's life and our friendship," said Harry. "Does that sound like either of us? Today, I saw one of the saddest looks on Hermione`s face that I`ve ever seen. Remember, I`ve been to funerals with her and Ron. It was like something or someone died. It was because she loves your brother, but can`t take it anymore."

"So, you're out trying to put thing right for her and Ron, I suppose," said Fred sarcastically.

"No, you git. I'm out to do what Ron should have done all along. I'm out to show her that someone will love her with all his heart. If it takes giving Ron all my money and letting him try to impress her with that while she walks away with me, then that's what I'll do. You can tell Ron that for me," said Harry. "If I'm wrong and she loves him more, then I'll just be one poor bastard living in the Leaky Cauldron on my reputation." He started to walk out.

"He doesn't want your money. You know that. He wants to be like you though," said George.

"Funny, I'd like to be more like your Dad," said Harry. "You guys, of all people, should know that money only improves the odds of success. It doesn't make you better, smarter or happier." Harry walked out and then turned around. "I don't suppose you have her address?"

"Harry, that's not going to happen," said Fred.

"Fifteen Southwest Springdale Lane, Harry. We`ve been there loads of times to collect her for her visits to our house," said George.

Fred glowered at his brother. "What the bloody hell are you doing?"

"Fred, if she loves Ron, it won't matter. If not, he's free and can move on. I can see him now, mate. He's got to be ready to rip down the walls at Hogwarts. This has to end. Get out of here Harry. We're even. You don't say a word about what happened, right?"

"Yeah, mate. No problem. I won't say a word," said Harry.

Harry had no idea how to get to Fifteen Southwest Springdale Lane. Apparation required knowledge of where you were going or the result could be severe splinching. It required visualizing the place. He supposed he could use the address, but he might end up in their living room. That was not the way he wanted to see the Granger's for only the second time in seven years. It was near six o'clock. He needed to find the fastest way to the nearest taxi queue.

Harry was surviving on pure adrenaline as the car sped across the Thames toward Oxford. He imagined what he would say to her. He wanted it to be true and not too over-the-top. He was fearful as well. He knew he loved her. She needed him to say it. She needed him to prove it. He hoped he could live up to it.

It seemed unreal to him as they turned on the road, leading into the posh neighborhood where Hermione's parents lived and she had grown up. He could only imagine from his initial impression of her as eleven year olds that she had grown up in such surroundings. The sun was going down behind him as the taxi rolled cautiously down the street while the taxi driver looked for Springdale. "Relax mate, it could take a while. Some of these places have streets that start and stop. One is called Southwest another called Northeast. I'm on the southern end so this should be close, but I can't guarantee it."

Five minutes passed as he saw home after home with finely manicured lawns and carports with expensive cars. It was no wonder that Ron felt out of place. Harry knew that his wealth might not compare to those who lived here. Finally, the taxi driver sounded upbeat. "There it is," he said. The street sign was visible now only because of the street lamp over head. Harry was in awe as a stretch limousine passed them going the opposite direction. "Mate, you're going to stand out like a sore thumb with me in this neighborhood. If you don't go straight into the home to see whoever it is you're here to see, I would get back in and we'll leave. The police would come in a moment with just one call."

"Thanks, I'll keep that in mind," said Harry. He had left the broomstick in his room in The Leaky Cauldron, but he had brought the invisibility cloak. "I'll be fine though." He reached in and pulled out his money to pay the driver. It had cost him half of what he had withdrawn to get here. He had been forced to pay a livery fee, because of the amount of time the driver's cab would not be able to make pickups after leaving London.

"There's the house, mate. Good luck. If Daddy's that rich, she must be a handful," said the driver.

He shook his head as he stepped out of the car and handed the money to the driver. The security lights were on. They shined on the front of the house and the door. There was a light burning in one room upstairs as well as several in the downstairs windows. Harry's heart pounded. He approached the door.

He could not believe how alive he felt. He was nervous beyond imagining. He was about to see the woman he loved in a new light. He now knew he would do anything for her. He was ready to surrender to the feelings that scared him most. If he did, he could not bear anything that might take her away from him. It dawned on him that it was the fear of loss that kept him from loving her completely. When faced with it, he had to acknowledge it. He rang the bell and waited.

After a minute or so, Harry began to worry about what the driver said. He was standing in jeans and a tee shirt in a swank neighborhood at night with a black backpack. Finally, the light over the door came on. The door cracked slightly. "I will call the police if you don't leave. Who is this?"

The voice was that of a frightened teenaged girl around his and Hermione's age. He could see her dark bangs and ponytails through the crack in the door. "I'm a friend of Hermione's. I'm Harry. Is she in?"

There was silence. The door closed for a moment. Then opened again. "My boyfriend and I are here watching the place while their on holiday. We'll call the police. Anyway, she's only just left. She's flying out to join her parents. They invited her when her plans for Spring Break fell through."

"Do you know where?" asked Harry.

"Yes," said the young woman. "I was specifically told that if anyone came asking that they were to be told that she would be back at the end of break."

Harry felt that sensation that comes with losing something very precious. It was not that he thought he'd lost Hermione. He had lost the moment. The moment that would tell her that he would find her wherever she went. That she was the love of his life. That he was even surer now than thirty seconds ago.

"Are you sure that she meant everyone?" asked Harry. He had to try one more time.

"How do I know you're not some stalker? I would appreciate it if you would leave now. I've told you what I know. She left in the limousine not thirty minutes ago," said the young woman. "Now if you would please leave."

Harry knew he had outstayed his welcome. He backed away from the door. He knew that she would probably call the police if he went anywhere but directly toward the street. The neighborhood was lit up like a Christmas tree. He knew he would have to find some remote spot, cover himself with the invisibility cloak and Disapparate back to the city and the Leaky Cauldron. He was running out of options.

He had no idea where she might have gone. He could go to the airport or back to King's Cross. He had to make a decision. He would Apparate in the London Heathrow Airport. He knew there were others, but it was the only name he knew for sure. He had no idea where he would end up in that huge place. He did not enjoy the idea of being splinched. This was how it happened too. It happened when the person Apparating did not concentrate hard enough on the destination. He was desperate to do something. He concentrated on the image of the airport he had seen so many times on the news while living with the Dursleys and let himself go.

The next thing he knew he was standing in the midst of roaring engines. He had gone to the exact place he had envisioned--the tarmac at London Heathrow. He was still covered by the invisibility cloak but the backwash of the huge jet turbines threatened to blow it away. He moved as quickly as he could to anywhere where the noise and wind was less.

He was fortunate that he could see into one of the lower level boarding areas. He concentrated on it and Apparated again. He knew that he had not been so lucky as to appear unnoticed. A middle-aged woman began screaming next to him. He moved quickly.

He had no choice but to find his way into another crowd and disappear. This time, however, he needed to do it the old-fashioned way and melt into the crowd. It took nearly twenty minutes for the commotion in the boarding area to settle down. He had no idea how to get around this airport. He wanted to laugh madly at his predicament. He was insane. He had followed a girl he loved more than anything in the world from one end of the U.K. to the other. He could not even be sure that he was in the right airport.

Finally, he heard something that gave him an idea. "Mrs. White, paging Mrs. White. Please meet your party at the information booth near the international boarding area."

He was grasping at straws. He found someone who looked relatively jovial and asked what he hoped was not the stupidest question of his life. "Excuse me, Sir. Excuse me," Harry pursued a rather heavyset middle-aged man with glasses. "Sir, could you answer a rather simple question for me?"

"Certainly, son. What is it?" he asked.

"I seem to have lost track of my party and I'm new to this flying thing. How might I make one of those announcements to find them?" Harry asked pleasantly.

"Oh, certainly. You can go to any of the information booths and ask there. Or, you can pickup one of the white telephones and talk to the operator. Just tell them who you're looking for," he said smiling. "Good luck."

"Oh one more thing," said Harry. "What if I'm not sure what airline it is? I don't have the ticket on me."

The gentleman looked at Harry suspiciously at first, then smiled again. "You are new to this, aren't you?" he began. "Well, sometimes if you know the party's name you can find out what airline and go to the area closest to them. However, it seems strange that you would be in the wrong terminal."

Harry knew that asking anymore questions would raise flags that he was not being completely truthful, even if he had no malicious intentions. "Thank you, so much," said Harry. "Enjoy your trip."

"Same to you, son," said the gentleman. "And good luck."

Harry had no choice now. He had to use the white phone. If he was in the wrong terminal or airport, it was just the way things were meant to be. "Hello, yes. I'm looking for my girlfriend. Her name is Hermione Granger. Somehow we got separated on the way from the arrival gate and the luggage area." He had picked up enough of the lingo to make up a reasonable story.

Then it occurred to him. If she were going to see her parents, she would not be expecting there to be anyone here looking for her. He needed a better idea. He hated the one that occurred to him, but he thought it would work. If she heard his name, she might come. He heard the operator ask him where he wanted to meet her for what now had to be the third time. "I'm sorry. I'm not looking for Hermione. I'm looking for my boyfriend Harry Potter. She is our companion and we've had a bit of a row. Could you page them to…" He looked for a landmark. "…food court in the domestic flight concourse. However it is termed. I'm not familiar."

The woman on the other end seemed to become more understanding when he admitted the difficulty he was having. He wasn't sure he could say it again without laughing because he was rather uncomfortable with himself at the moment. "Why yes, sir. The name again?"

"Harry Potter, Mum," he said calmly.

"Okay, stay there," she said.

He stood patiently as several pages were made. It was apparent that there was a timing system in place so that there would not be a never-ending dialog on the announcing system. While he waited he saw a small shop just off the main concourse that had roses in plastic boxes. They had little vials of water on the bottom to keep them fresh. He picked one up. If she showed, he wanted to be ready.

"Harry Potter, paging Mr. Harry Potter. Please meet your party at the food court on the Main Concourse. Paging Mr. Harry Potter," said the voice.

He looked up and down the concourse. There were several small eateries in the area. It was a larger area than he would have hoped. If she truly did not want to see him or Ron, she would not show. She might be interested to see who was calling for Harry Potter though and that might be enough. He felt the anticipation growing as he saw many young women walking to and fro pulling airline flight bags. Most were stewardesses. He knew a few were young women traveling alone. After twenty minutes, he gave up hope. He had gone to the wrong place or…"

He took a deep breath and turned around to look the other way one last time. He saw a young woman that made the his hair stand on end. She was too far away to recognize, but the resemblance was too much to ignore. He walked toward her quickly as she came into view he realized that she was probably ten years too old and three inches too tall. He sighed. He found himself wanting to sleep. He walked toward the lavatories that bracketed the food court. He entered and as he had done several times before, he DisApparated to his room in The Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

As Harry lay down on his bed and closed his eyes in the small room at the Leaky Cauldron, an exhausted Hermione napped in her seat on a British Airways jet taking her to Dublin to meet her parents.

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