Harry Potter and The Gilded Portrait - Part Two
Standard Disclaimers Apply
Chapter Twenty - Holiday (Part 1)
Hermione took several deep breaths as she settled back in the comfortable seat of the Air Tahiti Nui AirBus A340 as it was finally taxiing down the runway at the Paris-Charles De Gaulle Airport. The connecting flight from London Heathrow was a mad rush from one check point to another until they were safely aboard the plane. With a little help from some mild and subversive wand-less magic negotiating security had been almost effortless.
He wisely followed Hermione's lead as they navigated the intricacies of modern mechanized flight. He seemed to be in a constant state of surprise and a bit of detached amazement.
Hermione, however, seemed to be completely at ease, almost like she was in her element, being the one in control and Harry was quite content with that. Her prior statement saying she needed a break from magic not withstanding, her decision to shrink most all their luggage into two backpack sized carry-on bags was, as it turned out, a brilliant idea and made moving through the crowded airports much easier.
It was then she finally reluctantly agreed, regardless of her present emotional disposition on magic, it was indispensable in making their lives in the Muggle world much easier. Harry had done nothing more than offer her a knowing and rather smug grin.
Hermione had also pressed her marvelous little beaded bag back into service in which they put items they might need to get at quickly - like their wands.
She had read somewhere once many airlines had a terrible habit of loosing luggage and the more connecting flights the greater the possibility one had of reaching their destination with nothing more than the clothes on their backs and the items in their pockets.
Now sitting safely ensconced in their seats on the flight into the island of Bora Bora she felt herself relax for the first time that day.
Harry, on the connecting flight from Heathrow to Paris had gripped the arms of his seat with white-knuckled intensity for the entire flight. Hermione had told him constantly to relax but he did not relinquish his death grip until they had landed.
"You know, this is rather curious behavior from someone who can fly a broom at break-neck speeds doing all sorts of crazy stunts." She had whispered.
"Yah…well," Harry replied a bit stiffly, "I can't see the ground, makes me nervous."
After, on the way to the Air Tahiti Nui departure terminal he had commented, "That wasn't so bad." Hermione really wanted to smack him but was content to give him that look.
When they were finally aboard the final leg of their trip and settled down they both seemed to take very deep breaths and melt into their seats.
As Harry sat there he began fiddling with everything like an overly-curious child. He produced a set of ear buds and figuring out where to plug them in sat back and closed his eyes while listening to some soft music.
Hermione couldn't help but study him for a moment. She noticed the tenseness around his eyes and mouth seemed to ease.
As she turned to peer out the window she let her mind drift to the night before at her parent's place…
---@>---
She had sat cross-legged on her favorite comfy chair in her big sitting room perusing Weird Wizarding Dilemmas and Their Solutions. She had already made her way through The Healer's Helpmate as Harry sat completely engrossed in the DVD she had put in for him.
Upon making her way back down the stairs after she had gone to her room to change her clothes and readied herself for bed, she heard the unmistakable theme music of a special disc set her mother had purchased for her on a lark not long after she had received her acceptance letter to Hogwarts.
She couldn't help but put her hand over her face and shake her head both embarrassed and bemused by the fact he would chose that particular DVD out of an entire library of films and serials.
When Hermione first received the disc she remembered being so excited, thinking it some form of multi-media introductory information about Hogwarts and/or the Wizarding World. After all, with a title like `BEWITCHED' one would think, having just been accepted to one of the most prestigious magical training institutions in the world, it seemed to make perfect sense.
Rushing to complete all her chores that day she then went to the kitchen, proceeded to make a plate of some of her favorite healthy snacks, (Celery slices with peanut butter on top, fresh baby carrots with ranch dressing to dip in, green seedless grapes and her very favorite of all and one guilty extravagance - chocolate covered raisins!)
She had also retrieved her brand new copy of `Hogwarts- A History', a note pad and pencil just in case she needed to make notes.
She placed the disc carefully, almost reverently on the tray and pushed the button on the DVD player. Dashing back to the sofa and sitting ready with pencil poised quivering over her notepad the adventure began.
Less than 30 minutes later Hermione found herself storming up to her room in a towering temper.
The film hadn't been about Hogwarts or Wizards or magic at all for that matter!
It was, her mother later explained between fits of raucous laughter, nothing more than a ridiculous Serial that was made in the United States when her mother was a girl. The little she had managed to sit through had a rather attractive woman named Samantha, about her mother's age, doing ridiculously impossible things just by twitching her nose…TWITCHING-HER-NOSE!
Hermione had remembered feeling so incensed and hurt. She felt her parents were poking fun at her for being different. It wasn't until her mother explained it had just been in fun she had stopped crying.
Even though it was a rather unpleasant memory she couldn't help but smile remembering, especially now with her mother and father in such dire circumstances.
She had swept into the sitting room in her usual bossy fashion and snatched the remote from Harry's hands as the credits were rolling before the first episode began. She quickly hit the `stop' button.
Harry just looked up at her a bit surprised.
"I'm sorry," he said a bit sheepishly, "I didn't think you would mind…"
"Of course I don't mind Harry," Hermione said smiling, "It's just…that particular disc is probably not what you expect."
She then proceeded to tell him an abridged version of the story. He laughed and nodded.
"You're absolutely right. That is ridiculous…ha…twitching her nose…Stupid!"
When she went to the entertainment center she scanned the titles on the shelves until her eyes landed on what she thought would be a perfect film for him to watch…Pirates of the Caribbean. It even fit with the theme of their pending adventure…sort-of.
Holding the DVD case in her hands, it suddenly sparked an even deeper and darker memory from her past…
---@>---
She had asked her father if she could get that particular movie after it had been released. It was when she had a rather serious girl crush on one Orlando Bloom.
Strangely enough she had first seen the actor in the film Lord of the Rings. She had seen him one evening when her parents had the movie on. Hermione wasn't really watching it, she just happened to be in the room at the moment his particular character was on the screen.
She had thought the character of Legolas (although she didn't hear his name the moment she had spied him) the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on and found herself becoming unwittingly drawn into the film for a while until she recognized some of the character's names. Gorgeous or not, she had no affinity to sit there and watch anything associated with The Hobbit or The Lord of the Rings.
Hermione Granger had a deep seated dislike for all things J.R.R. Tolkien.
It had all started when she was in 5th grade. Nearing the end of that school term her father had become engrossed in the Tolkien novels and in his spare time read them incessantly.
Hermione - being Hermione - really had no attraction to fiction unless it was of the `historically accurate' variety but as she watched her father become completely immersed in the tomes she became curious.
One evening she got the courage to ask her father what the books were about and his response was to hand her his copy of The Hobbit.
"Just read it sweetheart," he had said with a beaming smile, "I promise you'll enjoy it very much."
And that's precisely what she did.
She too became completely lost in the tales of Bilbo Baggins and his adventures. The thing that impressed her most was how the author had created his own languages, alphabets and symbols to describe Middle Earth and all its inhabitants. She thought it remarkable and clever and spent some of her free time trying to teach herself how to speak and write Elvish.
It was silly and frivolous but to her it had been fun.
Not long after she had read the books her teacher had set before them a simple essay. `Write about an interest' was the assignment. No specifics were given, just be clear, precise in your description, spelling, grammar and construction counts, of course.
As a result of her recent interest in the Tolkien books Hermione had decided to write about languages, specifically written languages, a historical look at writing itself, the significance of certain ancient alphabetical and graphical systems and the influence they had on those that followed.
She had spent days doing intensive research in the library both at school and the public. She enlisted her mother's help to track down some very archaic texts from near-by Oxford. She had gone with her mother and even managed to obtain an interview with a Professor of Ancient Languages. The crusty old bookworm had found little Hermione Granger delightful, curious, inquisitive and thoroughly engaging (her mother had told her later).
In the end Hermione had constructed a masterful and complete work on a historical glimpse of the written language - nineteen pages of text complete with preface, index, references and even a bibliography.
She remembered being so proud of her work. Her mother and father had praised her paper saying it was well written, concise and well constructed. She remembered she couldn't wait to get to class that day to hand her paper in.
Even at ten years old Hermione Jean Granger's essay would have been more than acceptable in any entry-level college course.
In her 5th grade Grammar School class, however…
She remembered it all very distinctly. Her paper was handed in on a Thursday, by the following Monday she was sitting in the Head Master's office with her mother and father having a `discussion' about what they described as Hermione's rather odd and often eccentric behavior.
"This is not the first time something of this nature has occurred, Mr. and Mrs. Granger," and "We are a bit concerned Mr. and Mrs. Granger," and "Perhaps Hermione would be better suited…" and on and on it went.
Her father had been completely bewildered while her mother completely incensed by the whole ridiculous interview. Hermione remembered feeling completely embarrassed. How could someone's best be considered so…so inadequate or inappropriate?
To Hermione, it merely drove home the undeniable fact that she was different. That realization had been a constant albatross since the day she began to read, write and attend school. She had never fit in…and was convinced she never would. She would always be `that queer girl" or "teacher's pet!"
It had utterly crushed her and she had shut herself in her room refusing to go to school. In the end she had gone back. She had decided to finish and in the process decided she would not let a bunch of pencil-pushing public education system bureaucrats dictate to her how she would learn. The lingering effects, however, would be to wall herself and her emotions off from those who could hurt her. It had become a habit.
She remembered her mother and father having long and involved discussions behind closed doors about their `unique' little Hermione. Thankfully it wasn't much later that her Hogwarts letter arrived and after a subsequent interview with then Professor and Assistant Headmistress Minerva McGonagall things about their little girl seemed to become much clearer to her parents.
She had later rationalized (once she was a bit older) that `setting the curve' in school is one thing, making it completely unobtainable by not only her class but the rest of the entire school system was something else altogether. She supposed it made their curriculum look bad but as she was packing her trunk for Hogwarts she realized she no longer cared.
---@>---
When she found her books shed no light on her parent's dilemma she irritably tossed them on the small table next to the chair and let her mind drift.
She and Harry had spoken little after returning to her parent's house from their visit with Andromeda and Teddy. They were both lost in their own thoughts.
Harry contemplated the idea of resurrecting the old Wright house in Godric's Hollow and eventually establishing a home there. Hermione seemed to be preoccupied with everything else.
She found herself going back over the night she met with then Professor McGonagall to propose her idea of protecting her parent's lives by moving them far from London.
She remembered the conversations, the advice against such a risky operation and her subsequent stubborn refusal to listen. Once again regret washed over her as she sat there looking at Harry who was completely oblivious, lost in the world of movie make-believe.
She had kept them out, he and Ron. She was afraid to tell anyone details of her plans, especially Harry with his unintended mental connection to Voldemort. She had mentioned it to them that night in Ron's room at the Burrow before Fleur's wedding and it occurred to her afterward she probably shouldn't have but thankfully her error in judgment had not done any irreparable damage to her plans.
So many secrets…
She felt weary as she thought of all the things she had done neither Harry nor Ron knew about. She let her memories drift away again…
---@>---
There was the time turner, for one. That had been a huge blunder. Trying to shift time to acquire more knowledge was just a disaster waiting to happen. If it had not been for all the extra-curricular activities going on at the time maybe it would have worked out better but…
…Was all that really necessary?
She knew if she had not had the time turner saving Sirius and Buckbeak would have been impossible but she also realized it made little difference for Sirius in the end. That realization made her sad even now and the thought of how utterly dangerous and stupid meddling with time was left her feeling foolish. How McGonagall had even trusted her with such a thing still astounded her.
Then there was, of course, her secret ability to practice under-aged magic outside Hogwarts. She had used it to get a leg up before starting the Wizard school. The thought of confronting the famous Harry Potter and those who had grown up in the wizard world drove her to seek the required knowledge she thought was necessary to compete and the thought of being shown up by those who considered themselves pure bloods left a horrid taste in her mouth.
It didn't take long for her to realize how utterly ridiculous her rationality was. She quickly found out Harry was just as lost and confused as every other Muggle-born and breeding had little to do with one's ability to perform competent magic. It wasn't long after, much to her dismay, she discovered it wasn't all about learning and knowledge either. Some magical ability was instinctive and some imbued in others by unintentional consequences.
Books and cleverness, indeed!
Hermione tossed Harry a clandestine look and couldn't help but smile as he sat watching the pirate movie completely oblivious to her musings. He was completely engrossed and utterly mesmerized.
She remembered how she was given unrestricted access to the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library in her second year. Madam Pince had not been happy about that. She felt it was a desecration of the sanctity of her library allowing any student unfettered access but since the order came from Dumbledore himself she was forced to oblige…not that it had helped all that much in the end.
Then there were her own secret meetings with the Headmaster. He had summoned her many times during their years at Hogwarts with strict instructions not to mention them to anyone…not even her boys. He had enlightened her about many things that had to do with Voldemort and Harry. It was how she came to know about the books Dumbledore had removed from the Restricted Section even though she had played it off to Harry and Ron later.
Much of it she had surmised on her own but he had given her many details to fill in the blanks of not only her own theory but his as well. It was he who had impressed upon her the importance to assist Harry in his quest. She had quite happily told the Headmaster she had every intention of doing so anyway. She remembered his beaming smile in response to her rather cheeky retort. After Dumbledore became ill after wearing the Gaunt ring he was most adamant about her roll in what was to come.
At first she refused to accept it but as the words of Trelawney's prophecy began to fulfill themselves she realized his advice could not be ignored. She was still a bit aggravated Dumbledore had not confided in her about the Hallows or the Horcruxes. It would have been much simpler for her to understand when the time came and she wouldn't have been so resistant to the idea…but she also now understood why he didn't. It would have tainted their quest and the necessary destruction of those vile pieces of Voldemort's soul.
She was also a little miffed he had not told her about his theory Harry's scar was also an unintended Horcrux but then again, Dumbledore was wise enough to realize she would not have let him face Voldemort alone to do what needed to be done, no matter how necessary it seemed at the time.
There were the secret potion treatments she had to endure at the hands of Professor Snape after she had been hit with Dolohov's curse the night they went to the Department of Mysteries to supposedly save Sirius. Madam Pomfrey was at a loss. It had left no mark on the outside but at times Hermione's insides felt as if they were boiling. They never determined precisely what the curse was but the residual effects caused her excruciating pain for months after.
It was Professor McGonagall who had approached the Headmaster to enlist Professor Snape to find an answer. Hermione absolutely did not want Severus Snape poking and prodding on her for answers but she reluctantly agreed when the pain became so acute she would have done just about anything to make it stop. In the end Snape had found the nature of the curse and cured it with a month-long regiment of potions and meditative healing techniques. He had refused to divulge the nature of the curse only because she had asked him. It had angered her greatly but in the end, she had to reluctantly admit he had probably saved her life, although it hadn't been something either one of them enjoyed.
The result, however, had been utterly devastating. It was during a post-treatment examination she had been informed by Snape that, as a result of the damage done by the curse and an unforeseen side effect of the cure she would most likely be unable to bear children. In fact, he had given her a less than twenty per-cent chance of ever successfully carrying a child to term. It wasn't so much the damage as it was the extensive scarring to some of her reproductive organs.
He had been cold and utterly unfeeling in his pronouncement. It was as if he were telling her she had received an `Exceeds Exceptional' instead of an `Outstanding' on a Potions essay. When Hermione broke down in front of him Professor Snape became angry.
"Please do keep in mind Ms. Granger, you - are - alive!" he spit hatefully, "I realize this may be little consolation to one with your…obsequiously illuminated mind but let us look on the bright side shall we? You'll be forever more a truly unique insufferable little know-it-all!"
Severus Snape had loathed weakness and self-pity about as much as he had hated the Marauders.
Throughout her young life Hermione had prided herself on being impartial and as unprejudiced as she could possibly be but after that day she realized she hated Severus Snape more than any other creature on the earth. Even after all had been revealed about his motives for allying himself with Albus Dumbledore her opinion of the man changed little. He was still the vilest most despicable man to ever have drawn a breath as far as she was concerned and even death could not assuage her hatred of him.
It was one of the main reasons Hermione had seemed so distant to her boys in their 6th year. Trying to come to terms with it all had occupied most of her strength. It hadn't helped Ron seemed to be determined to swallow Lav Lav's head every fifteen minutes.
Now, after all had been said and done she found herself sitting across from a young man who meant more to her then anyone with the exception of her parents. Even she and her parents had been drifting slowly apart as she finally admitted to McGonagall in Australia.
She marveled at how they had arrived at this very moment. Both their lives had taken so many strange twists and turns to end up at what Hermione finally realized as the truth…the real truth but the guilt for keeping him at arm's length for all those years settled on her like a sack of wet sand.
He and I were made for one-another. How could it be any other way?
---@>---
The jet hit some turbulence and jolted both of them out of their introspections.
"Wha' was that," Harry asked lurching upright gripping the armrests again. Hermione chucked and patted his hand.
"It's perfectly fine Harry, just a bit of a rough patch."
"Oh…rough patch, yah…ok." He settled back in his seat but was still a bit tense.
It was remarkable to her that he grew up in the Muggle world just as she had but it was as if he's had little to no experience with it.
"You know, Harry you sometimes act like you've never been in the Muggle world before at all."
He cast her a rather strange look as he pulled the ear buds from his ears.
"I might have grown up in this world Hermione but it's not like I ever really went anywhere or did all that much. I was too busy playing resident slave and house elf to the Dursleys."
"They let you watch the telly didn't they?"
"Yah," Harry said, "sometimes but it was always whatever Diddykins wanted to watch. Merlin forbid if I ever got my hand on the remote. I would have been scrubbing toilets for weeks."
The back of Hermione's neck suddenly felt hot. She couldn't believe how he had been treated by his own supposed family. It was utterly despicable.
"That explains a lot." She whispered.
"Yah," Harry said, "but I can tell you in detail what the underside of a staircase looks like. I know that part well."
Hermione's eyes began to swim.
"Look Hermione," Harry shifted in his seat, "I really don't want to think about that anymore. That time is behind me now. The Dursleys are gone and I don't ever have to see them again." He smiled at her despite the dark thoughts swirling in the back of his mind. "I'm on holiday going to a little brown speck in the middle of the ocean with the most important person in my life. As far as I'm concerned nothing else matters at this moment. Get what I'm saying?"
She nodded. She dare not speak because her bottom lip was beginning to quiver.
"I want you to make me a promise right now Granger," Harry looked at her seriously.
He rarely ever called her by her sir-name. She looked deeply into his beautiful green eyes. She nodded.
"I want you to promise me you're going to have fun. That's what we're doing this for, to let go and have fun. No moping about wondering, worrying or thinking about this or that. You need to clear your mind and relax, yes?"
Again she nodded.
"Do I have your word?" He cracked a grin.
This time Hermione rolled her eyes and smirked.
"Do I have to take an oath in blood or something?" she asked with a smile.
Harry stroked his chin for a moment looking thoughtful and she swatted at him.
"Tosspot," she mumbled, "Yes, Harry I promise to have fun. I promise to have the time of my life! Is that acceptable?"
"I suppose it'll do for starters," Harry grinned, "So tell me about this place we're staying?"
Hermione brightened instantly. She reached in to fish several travel brochures out of her beaded bag. While she was rooting around looking for the ones she wanted her hand fell across a book. When she pulled it out she read the title then cast Harry a dour sideways glare.
"Oh Harry," she grumbled, "You must be joking!"
She was holding a pristine, hard bound copy of The Demise of Darkness - The Final Days of Lord Voldemort.
She instantly noticed Ron's name had been misspelled.
Hermione burst out laughing and had to cover her mouth when nearby passengers turned to stare.
Harry snatched the book from Hermione's hand and laid it in his lap.
"You know," he said, "It's really not half bad. At least they get most of the facts right and I have to admit the way its written is well…rather interesting."
Hermione couldn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. She refused to accept anything that came from a self-serving, dishonest, loose-lipped gossip and a thick-as-mud, whiskey-addled, hormonal teenager could be worth the paper it was printed on but she begrudgingly realized if it got Harry to read it might not be a complete waste of material.
At least the rubbish can be recycled!
As she watched he opened the cover. She could see writing on the inside.
"Oh Harry," she cackled, "Don't tell me he autographed it! When did you get that?"
He told her Ron had left it for him the night he came to Grimmuald Place with that girl. Hermione forced herself not to think about that night.
He showed her the inscription. It read…
To my best mate Harry Potter. Without whom this book could not have been possible.
Ronald B. Weasley
The penmanship looked as if a third grader had written it but Hermione kept that comment to herself. At the very least Ron seemed to recognize the importance of Harry's contribution to his success so she rationalized it had to count for something.
"So show me this place already," Harry asked blushing slightly trying to change the subject.
They spent most of the rest of the flight talking about Tahiti. Hermione gave him a brief (at least brief for Hermione) history of the Polynesian Islands. The fact their language was French concerned Harry a bit.
"Don't worry," Hermione told him, "Most all the residents speak English. They get a lot of tourists from the United States and besides…I can speak French fairly well."
It was almost dawn the following morning by the time they reached the small airport in Bora Bora due to flying almost half way around the globe but even at the early morning hour the place was alive with people and activity.
Hermione informed him they could get to the island of Tahiti in one of three ways, (well, four if you count apparating and five if you count swimming but neither option very appealing), they could either take a smaller plane or ride on a water taxi that jumped from island to island or they could charter a boat to take them directly to Tahiti.
When Hermione asked Harry which he preferred he told her he didn't care but he was a bit tired of riding on airplanes for a while. They eventually decided on the water taxi when they found out how much a charter boat cost. Harry was more than willing but Hermione's frugal nature and common sense prevailed in the end. It would take longer for them to get there but they would have a chance to see so much more on the taxi.
After boarding the next available water taxi they settled back onto a bench just outside the bridge house of a boat called The Galloping Guppy. They were remarking on the name with quiet snickers when a tall dark man in a captain's hat turned the corner. He apparently heard their comments.
He looked down at them, hands on hip and a rather knowing grin on his face.
"Does de name of dis boat amuse you?" He asked in a good-natured way, his broad white smile never leaving his face. His voice was heavily accented in an unknown dialect.
Harry and Hermione both began to back peddle quickly but the man just held up his hand chuckling.
"I realize da name is a beet strange but eet was geeven to me by my then four year old daughter when I brought she and my wife to look at de craft after I had first purchased her from a feesherman in New Guinea. She say `Papa, de boat looks like a beeg fat guppy!'" He shrugged, "The name stuck!"
Harry and Hermione couldn't help but smile and laugh at the story.
The Captain chatted them up for a bit. He informed them his route took them first to the island of Morea, then to a few of the smaller islands in the chain, then onto Tahiti before turning and retracing their route back to Bora Bora. After that he made his way to the bridge wishing them a pleasant Holiday.
Harry and Hermione spent the trip from Bora Bora to Morea mostly in silence looking up at and endless sea of stars in the utter blackness of the night. There were very few lights on the boat because, (as a deck hand had mentioned in passing) many people liked to nap on the late night crossings. Harry and Hermione had slept a little on the flight so neither was tired. They were both excited and Harry seemed to fidget relentlessly.
Hermione had pointed out several constellations as well as the Milky Way as Harry sat listening in rapt fascination. He remembered many of them from Astronomy class but he was quite content to let Hermione be - well - Hermione.
He could tell she was becoming more and more her old self and it made him feel good. She was relaxed now, more so than he had seen her in the last several months.
Just as they were arriving in Morea the first tendrils of light could be seen on the eastern horizon. At first a deep bronze, then gold spreading like glittering diamonds across the surface of the rather calm ocean, then the deep blues of what appeared to be a pristine sky veiled the stars to announce the coming of a cloudless dawn.
They decided to explore the wharf area for the hour the Galloping Guppy remained at port in Morea. The Captain told them they could find a quaint little café not far from the boat that served some of the best Turkish coffee in the Polynesian Archipelagos. They sat sipping the robust brew as they watched the morning unfold in front of them. They had an unobstructed front row seat.
Harry commented on the way back to the boat he felt like the coffee had reached right out of his cup and slapped him across his face. Hermione couldn't help but laugh out loud. Before she realized it they were holding hands as they made their way slowly and lazily back to the Guppy. They perused the little shops along the way not really stopping to look at anything in particular, just a leisurely stroll.
For the first time in months she found herself thinking of nothing, merely taking in everything around her and letting the sights and sounds and smells of the island permeate her entire being. It was absolutely cathartic.
Harry seemed quite pensive as he, too took everything in. The only thought that permeated his mind was the realization he should have done something like this a long time ago but things were quite different back then. He hastily shoved any thoughts of the past aside.
They decided to remain on the boat at the rest of the Guppy's stops and it was early afternoon by the time they reached the island of Tahiti.
As they approached from the north-west they could see the towering cone of Mount Orohena. Hermione could sense Harry's growing excitement.
After the boat turned a densely forested corner of land they entered into what appeared to be a shallow bay. To Harry it was a lot like some of the places he had seen in the pirate movie. The smile that spread across his face and the absolute delight in his sparkling green eyes made Hermione laugh. Harry glanced at her.
"It's brilliant Hermione," Harry laughed taking in the thatched huts that seem to come right out over the water into the bay. Brightly colored triangular shapes skimmed across the smooth surface of the crystal clear turquoise-colored water in every direction stood out like beacons against the back drop of the almost bright-white color of the sand. There were smaller boats and personal water craft zipping back and forth.
On the right side of the lagoon was the harbor with docks and landing areas. Hermione explained that massive cruise ships docked there and they would most likely see one or two while they were there.
Harry took it all in. He let his imagination soar as the taxi eased its way into the harbor zone.
"Do you think there are any pirates here Hermione?" Almost at once he realized what a stupid and childish question it was but he was letting his excitement get the better of him.
Hermione was about to offer a snarky response when one of the deck hands came up behind them grinning.
"They say dis place was once a pirate haven back in de day," the deck hand said, "Eet is said there is still pirate treasure buried on some of de islands in dis Archipelago."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Please don't tell him that or we'll be spending the next two weeks looking for buried treasure!"
The deck hand laughed loudly. Harry just blushed but grinned himself.
"I think it would have been brilliant to be a pirate like Captain Jack Sparrow!" He said laughing.
Hermione gave him a rather strange look but then laughed.
"I don't know Potter," she quipped, "For some reason I just can't wrap my mind around the idea of you…swashbuckling!"
They both burst out laughing.
After leaving the Galloping Guppy at the harbor with cheerful farewells to the captain and crew they made their way to one of the ground transportation locations and took a rather modern looking shuttle to the front entrance of the Tahiti Intercontinental Resort.
Coming up the circular drive they could see the place was beautiful. All color of flowers lined the entryway.
Several men dressed in what appeared to be red suits with dark blue trousers with red stripes down the sides of the legs came spilling out of the entrance and immediately began taking bags and ushering the guests up the few steps into the grand and very formal-looking reception area.
A very tall, thin man with a long nose, heavily lidded eyes, long graying hair slicked back over a high forehead, dressed in an impeccable black formal tuxedo complete with tails made his way from guest to guest shaking hands, bowing stiffly and welcoming them all to the resort. When he had finally made his way around to Harry and Hermione they got the instant impression they were being sized up, appraised and inspected all at the same time.
From the man's expression and demeanor Hermione caught the unmistakable air of questioning suspicion as he peered down his long nose at them. He stood stiffly, head thrown back almost leering down at them.
"I am Henry Bouchard-Gaston Des Fortesque," he said in a clipped and formal heavy French accent, "I am Concierge here at The Intercontinental, a…pleasure to make your acquaintance."
The pause was not lost on Hermione. She instantly did not like this man. Her first impression was that he was arrogant and snooty.
"You will be staying with us for two weeks I believe Monsieur Potter, Mademoiselle Granger?"
The fact he knew their names shocked Hermione almost speechless. She nodded but Harry wasn't so subtle.
"How did you know…" Harry began to ask but the Concierge cut him off with a wave of his thin spindly looking hand as if his knowledge should have been obvious.
"It is my duty to know who is staying at my resort Monsieur," he was regarding Harry as if he were a particularly nasty stain on one of the lobby's expensive Persian carpets.
His manner was grating on Hermione's sensibilities when he turned toward her and pinned her with a long and rather peculiar stare. She was instantly becoming uncomfortable under his obvious scrutiny and she was about to comment when he spoke.
"If I may be so bold as to enquire, Madmioselle," he asked haughtily, "I noticed you are from London, oui? Are you any relation to a Daphne and Edward Granger?"
His question stunned Hermione like a cold slap across the face. She knew she must be gaping at the man like a complete idiot so she quickly tried to get control of herself. She set her features to much the same as his before she replied.
"I am?" she responded matter-of-factly, "They are my parents. Why do you ask? Do you know them?"
The Concierge's rather stiff and icy demeanor evaporated almost instantly. Instead his features took on what appeared to Hermione to be almost a whimsical look of fond memory.
"Indeed Madmioselle," Henry Bouchard-Gaston Des Fortesque replied with a tight smile, "You parents are well known to me and I remember them with great fondness. You mother…" the Concierge began but his voice trailed off for a moment as if lost in a pleasant memory. She thought she had caught an almost inaudible sigh come from the snooty man. With a slight shake of his head he seemed to snap out of it.
Harry cast Hermione a quizzical look but Hermione could only shrug in response looking a bit bewildered herself.
"Please allow me to explain," Des Fortesque continued, eyes closed with a spidery finger upraised, "I came to know your mother and father upon one of their many visits to our humble resort. I'm sure you are aware Madmioselle this was their favorite vacation destination I believe."
Hermione nodded. She couldn't seem to find anything to say.
"As I recall you accompanied your parents here several years before, no?" He asked, smiling rather genuinely now.
"Yes," Hermione said slowly, "When I was eight years old."
"Ah yes, of course," the concierge said, "I knew I recognized you. You have become, if I may speak freely Madmioselle, as lovely as your wonderful mother."
Hermione couldn't help but blush a deep crimson.
"It was a most unusual circumstance that brought your parents and myself together on a previous occasion. They hand mentioned to me once they were both practicing dentists. It was this memory that caused me to call upon their services under rather dire circumstances."
"There was a very important person staying wiz us at the time. He was the Puja of Nom-Gamier. He was…how can I say it politely…a most difficult guest to please. The Puja had a most peculiar affinity for pistachio nuts. He would consume several pounds of them a day."
"One evening the Puja's personal assistant rang the front desk in a terrible panic. Apparently the Puja had broken a tooth on his pistachio nuts and requested we do something to ease his pain immediately. He was most insistent. I then remembered your parents were dentists and…voila, they were most gracious in assisting the Puja and pulled the offending molar most expeditiously."
"Your parents not only helped me personally but they helped save the reputation of our establishment. The Puja was most pleased and vowed to make the Intercontinental his favorite vacation destination. He has returned every year since."
"Erm…Well," Hermione replied still a bit stunned by the strange man's revelations but he seemed to have changed his opinion of the two young people standing before him, "I'm very please my parents could help. They both have a very charitable nature…"
"Indeed!" Des Fortesque bowed slightly, "I hope they are well. I'm sorry they were unable to accompany you this time."
Hermione's expression darkened at the thought of her parents and Harry picked up on her distress instantly. He jumped in to save her the pain of explaining. Thinking quickly he covered for her.
"Hermione's parents aren't doing so well right now. They were both involved in a serious accident that caused them both to be put in the hospital. They'll live but their condition is…delicate right now. It's hard for Hermione to talk about it."
"There's nothing more that can be done for them at present so I suggested Hermione get away for a while. The stress, you see."
Henry Bouchard-Gaston Des Fortesque put his hand over his heart and closed his eyes.
"I understand completely," the Concierge nodded to Harry, "Mademoiselle Granger, I am so sorry," he whispered, "My heart goes out to you and I shall remember your mother and father in my thoughts."
Hermione was touched by the sincerity in his declaration and she couldn't help but smile.
"Thank you Monsieur Des Fortesque. I will be sure to pass along your sympathies to them when I return to London."
"Of course," the Concierge clapped his hands twice in quick succession as his haughty manner resumed as if they had not had the previous conversation at all.
A skeletally thin man, about the same height as the Concierge with the same haughty expression appeared at the older man's shoulder at once as if appearing out of thin air.
"Oui Monsieur Des Fortesque?" The man asked bowing slightly.
The Concierge peered down at Harry and Hermione with the same snobbish expression he gave them when they first arrived. Harry began feeling a bit confused by it all.
"Trousseau, this lovely young lady and her gentleman escort are my personal guests," the Concierge stressed the last two words with a pointed stare at his assistant, "They will be treated as such. Please place them on the fourth floor in the continental suite and make it your personal duty to see to it their stay is most pleasant. If they require it you shall make it so."
Both Harry and Hermione gaped at the Concierge for a second before looking at one another.
""Erm Monsieur," Hermione said aghast, "That's really not…"
But Des Fortesque simply tut-tutted her. With a pinched smile and a wink he turned and made his way back to the reception desk leaving an attentive Trousseau in his wake.
The gentleman named Trousseau bowed slightly and bade them follow. He led them to the elevator and up they went until they came to the fourth floor. Following the assistant they were brought before a double door entrance with the doorknobs in the center of each door slab.
When Trousseau opened the doors Harry and Hermione's mouths dropped open in amazement. The suite was huge with a large sitting area complete with overstuffed couch, love seat and easy chair. A huge screen television was mounted to the wall on the right side. To the left was a small but modern looking kitchenette that was separated from the sitting room by a short bar.
To the far left were a huge bedroom with a monstrous king-sized bed, walk-in closet and an adjoining bath with a whirlpool tub you could swim in but the best part of the entire space was the balcony. It spanned the entire length of the suit with French doors that spanned the entire back wall. On the balcony were several loungers along with a glass topped table and comfortable looking wicker chairs. From the low rail you could see the entire bay.
Trousseau took a few moments to explain where everything was and even showed them the panel that operated the motor-driven blinds that would open and close to pre-set times to let in the morning sunlight or close to block the view.
"Why would anyone want to do that?" Harry had commented which made Hermione and Trousseau laugh. When he was done he bowed himself out of the room and left them alone.
Hermione was stunned at their good fortune.
"I never dreamed we'd be in a place like this Harry," she beamed.
It made Harry's heart pinch for a moment. The look in her eyes brought back memories of when they were younger and both still so new to the world of magic. Everything seemed to be wondrous and exciting then, before all the darkness…
He forced those thoughts aside and they began un-shrinking all their things and with the help of that very same magic, they had all their things stowed away.
Hermione stood for a moment looking at the massive bed in the room. Harry came up beside her.
"Erm, I believe Trousseau said the sofa folds out into a bed. I don't mind…"
But before he could finish his statement Hermione looked up at him with an odd expression and cut him off.
"Don't be ridiculous Harry," she motioned to the bed, "Look at the size of this thing. I think we could both sleep on it and never even see one-another for days!"
Harry laughed loudly at that. She swatted his arm playfully.
"So what do you want to do now?" Hermione asked.
Harry thought for a moment then replied in a matter-of-fact way.
"I think I would like to look around the resort for a bit, you know, find out where everything is and then I would really like to get something to eat. What about you?" He looked at Hermione with a grin.
"I think that's a lovely idea Mr. Potter," Hermione beamed again, "Why didn't I think of that!" She giggled.
Hermione Granger just giggled! This is going to be more fun than I thought!
With that she told him she wanted to freshen up and change her clothes to something more tropical and bid Harry to do the same. She gave Harry the bathroom first because, as she said, girls tend to take longer than boys.
Harry didn't put up a fuss so when he was done Hermione disappeared into the cavernous bathroom while Harry dressed for the evening. He put on a light tan pair of linen slacks, a white button-up shirt left unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled to just below his elbows. He wore a white cotton tank under his shirt.
Instead of shoes he opted for a pair of brown leather sandals Hermione had told him were a must for beach life. Checking himself in the mirror he decided trying to do something with his hair was pointless but he looked and felt completely different than he ever had in his life. The clothes fit perfect and they felt good.
He moved out onto the balcony and looked out over the clear blue water and pristine white sand. The sun was falling low off to the left but was still high enough in the sky to see everything. Life teamed below him with people sun bathing on the beach, children swimming and splashing in the shallow water and subtle waves that washed up on shore. All manner of multi-colored sails carved across the surface of the calm surf out in the midst of the lagoon, lazily bobbing up and down as they passed.
This is paradise!
He couldn't suppress a smile as he took it all in. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back slightly for a moment to let it all soak into him like a sponge. He heard Hermione's voice behind him. When he turned he could scarcely believe what his eyes beheld…
Hermione was wearing a lovely white sleeveless sundress that went to her ankles. The top was like a spaghetti string tank but was lacy and frilly. She had done her long mane into an intricate French braid that fell to her lower back. On her feet were the same style sandals as Harry's (they had bought them at the same place at the same time - they were on sale!)
She looked lovely and radiant in the late afternoon light. She noticed Harry gaping at her as she fit one of her earrings in place.
"What?" Hermione asked grinning a little. Harry swallowed hard.
"You…you look…erm…wow Hermione," He stammered.
She beamed again. Harry was really, really beginning to like Tahiti very much.
"You look pretty wow yourself Harry," as she made her way out onto the balcony. Turning toward the bay her face lit up with that same look of wonder she had right after they entered the suite.
"Oh isn't it magnificent Harry," she said breathlessly. Harry couldn't seem to drag his gaze away from her.
"It most certainly is Ms. Granger!" Harry replied.
When she glanced up at his face his look made her blushed profusely.
"Stop it," she chided but only half-heartedly, swatting his arm gently, "You're making me self-conscious."
Glancing up at him again she grinned and leaned against his shoulder.
"You know Harry, you should really consider getting that Muggle procedure that corrects your vision. Then you wouldn't have to wear your glasses any more. If you're thinking of joining Kingsley's special program it might be wise, don't you think. I mean, just one simple spell and any Death Eater worth their salt could render you potentially helpless…then where would you be?"
"True," Harry responded considering her words, "but that's what Auror-grade sticking charms are for yes?" He smirked.
"It's just a thought," Hermione sighed turning back to look out over the bay. She had unconsciously threaded her arms around his leaning against his body as she gazed out over the lovely view. When she realized what she was doing she disentangled herself form him with a bit of a jolt at her forwardness.
"Erm, sorry Harry didn't mean…"
Before she could finish her words Harry leaned toward her and captured her mouth with his. He had no idea what drove him to do it. The moment - her look - the place, but as his lips met hers Hermione practically melted into the kiss like butter on the hot stove.
Before either of them knew it their kiss turned into a heated exchange of barely restrained longing and desire for one-another. Hermione reached for him, pulling him closer as his arms encircled her body and pulled her in even tighter.
When they finally separated they were both gasping. Harry looked Hermione right in the eyes. Something was driving him forward. He wasn't sure what but it felt wonderful - she felt wonderful!
"Thank you for inviting me on Holiday with you. This is wonderful." Harry whispered.
"We've only just arrived Harry," Hermione whispered in return looking into his sparking green eyes, "but I'm glad you came with me."
They kissed again, both of them getting lost in the warmth and familiarity of one-another. After a moment Hermione realized if they didn't stop things were going to get intense. She could feel Harry responding and it wasn't at all unpleasant.
She reluctantly pulled her lips from his.
"Erm, why don't we go exploring now Harry," she offered him a rather coy smile.
He nodded grinning himself. He took her hand in his and they made their way down to the lower levels of the resort and began wandering all over the place. They found the indoor and outdoor pools, spas, steam rooms and a full weight training facility complete with personal trainer. They found a bar that was both inside the resort building and outside by the outdoor pool. One could actually swim right up to the bartender and get a drink.
The outdoor pool had a waterfall! Harry thought that was the coolest and told Hermione they would definitely investigate that closer soon. When they made it down to the beach they decided to take a walk there later, after they got something to eat, so they returned to the restaurant.
The dining room was formal and elegant as they found themselves seated at a cozy little table for two. Hermione had seafood while Harry decided to order one of the largest steaks they offered. After the drinks and salads arrived a waiter brought a bottle of a very expensive French wine, "Compliments of the management!" he explained with a smile. The waiter pulled the cork, poured just a little in a glass and handed it with a bow to Harry.
Harry looked at Hermione quizzically when she quickly and quietly explained the waiter was waiting for Harry's approval on the wine before he poured. Shrugging slightly Harry took the glass, sniffed and tasted the wine, then nodded to the waiter.
The waiter smiled, nodded then poured a bit more in his glass and did the same for Hermione. When the waiter left, Hermione burst out in a fit of stifled giggles at Harry.
"What?" Harry whispered.
"Nothing," Hermione snorted, "I've just never pictured you like this before. It's a bit, I don't know…discombobulating!"
Harry just sat back folding his arms with a slightly devious grin.
"Would it make you more comfortable if belched, farted and jumped up scratching my bum?"
Hermione had to cover her mouth to keep from bursting out in a loud fit of laughter as she nodded her head, eyes beginning to water from her silent glee.
Harry could only chuckle rolling his eyes. After the food came they ate talking about the subtleties of proper etiquette while in public. Hermione instructed Harry in things he never had to think much about before.
"A finger bowl is for what?" He asked, "Why that just seems silly. Why not just lick the sauce off your fingers? That's a waste of good food!"
It was Hermione's turn to roll her eyes mumbling something about channeling his best Ronald.
After their delicious and very filling meal they decided to take a leisurely stroll on the beach. Hermione admitted the day was beginning to catch up to her when she yawned.
Night had settled in earnest with only the slightest hint of glow on the western horizon.
Hermione pulled off her sandals and before they had gone very far she realized Harry had taken her hand in his. She looked up at him with a smile.
Harry thought Hermione never looked so lovely as she walked beside him on the sand. He looked up into a night sky filled with billions and billions of pinpoints of light.
"You don't see this many stars in London," He said in a hushed tone.
With another girlish laugh she let go of Harry's hand and dashed ahead of him slightly. She then held her arms out straight, leaned her head back and began to spin slowly in circles.
"What are you doing you silly witch?" Harry asked chuckling as he watched her spin round in circles.
"Try it Harry!" Hermione said laughing, "Fix your eyes on the brightest star then spin in circles."
Harry did…and after a moment it seemed that he was spiraling through a vortex of circles of light. It was amazing to see but after about three spins his head began to feel funny. The next thing he knew he was crashing to the sand, landing hard on his shoulder.
Laughing madly Hermione crashed down next to him.
"My goodness Harry! You were spinning so fast it looked as if you just might lift off!"
"Well, that explains it," Harry mumbled rubbing his shoulder.
"I really thought you a bit more coordinated than that," she chuckled as she let herself fall back on the sand, arms flung over her head. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath.
Harry gaped at her for a moment.
"Hermione," he exclaimed, "You're going to get sand all over you and your pretty white dress. I really like that dress, by the way."
"Lighten up Harry," Hermione quipped, "We're at the beach - on a tropical island - in the middle of the ocean. Sand is our friend!"
Harry laughed loudly and fell back on the sand beside her.
"That's better," she said turning her head to gaze into his eyes. She reached out and touched his face letting the pads of her finger glide lightly across his cheek.
Harry closed his eyes shuddering slightly at her soft touch. He reached up capturing her hand with his and pressed his lips against her wrist, kissing softly. Harry heard a soft sigh escape her. It was just barely louder than the sound of the gentle waves lapping the shore of the pristine white sand.
Even though the sounds of Tahiti night life went on all around them they seemed lost in a bubble of their own little world for a moment. Harry desperately wanted to kiss her just then but she gently withdrew her hand and settled back on the sand again gazing up at the night sky.
"It's marvelous isn't it?" Hermione whispered.
"Yes Hermione," Harry said as he too looked up into the night sky. His eyes landed on the star he focused on when he was spinning in circles like a nutter a few moments before, "What's that bright star there Hermione. I don't remember that one."
Hermione shifted her gaze to the star in question and smiled widely.
"You should remember that one Harry!" Hermione glanced at him with a wry grin, "That's the star Sirius!"
"Of course," Harry replied feeling a bit foolish, "The Dog Star. You're right. I should have remembered that one!"
"The Polynesian people in this region have been using Sirius to navigate by for thousands of years."
"Sounds funny when you say it like that…" Harry chuckled.
Suddenly Hermione was on her feet looking down at Harry grinning. She reached out a hand to help him up.
"I think I'm ready to call it a day Harry," she said as Harry grabbed her hand and she yanked with all her strength. When Harry got to his feet she wrapped him in a tight embrace and kissed him letting her tongue swirl with his for a moment. When she released him Harry was a bit dazed, "Time for bed…" The sleepy, slightly sultry look in her eyes made Harry's heart jump all over his chest.
With that she began towing him back toward the resort hotel. Harry wasn't sure what to make of this girl at the moment. Her slightly erratic behavior was quite out of her usual character but after what she had been through over the past several months he realized she hadn't exactly been herself in a long time. Harry just decided to roll with it and see where it took them. He had promised himself to give her what she wanted without protest or question…and that's exactly what he intended to do.
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