Unofficial Portkey Archive

I hope you enjoy this chapter. It actually took a little research. Even the fountain Harry and Hermione go through is actually in Australia. So thanks to the people who have reviewed, and PLEASE leave some more!

Chapter 13: Off to the Outback!

"Do you think you could go with me to get my parents?"

Only a few seconds lapsed between her request and Harry's reply.

"Sure," he said, opening the door a little wider to permit her entrance. "But I suggest you step out of the rain first."

Hermione quickly entered Grimmauld Place and placed her trunk by the staircase as Harry closed the door behind her. Without further comment, he turned and led Hermione to the kitchen, taking bites of his toast as he went.

"Take whatever you want," Harry said as he plopped down before a rather heavily laden table. "There's plenty to go around, as you can see."

"I've already eaten breakfast," Hermione said, but nevertheless chose a delicious looking scone from a pile of various pastries as she sat down across from Harry.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry spoke.

"So I take it you and Ron got into a bit of a row," he stated.

Hermione tore off the corner of her scone, biting her lip and avoiding his gaze. Finally she looked up, her brow furrowed. "Is it that obvious?"

Harry raised his eyebrow. "No, not at all. I would never have guessed it from your pissed-off expression, appearance by yourself in the pouring rain, and the way you've been ripping and stabbing at your poor defenseless blueberry pastry."

"Okay, so maybe it was obvious."

Harry rolled his eyes. "So what'd you do this time?"

Hermione's eyes narrowed to slits. "You've got ten seconds to rephrase that before I weaponize this scone."

Harry's eyes widened before turning quizzical. "What could you possibly do with a scone?"

"There are no limitations to the array of painful possibilities that one could utilize with a pastry, my ignorant friend."

Harry laughed. "So that's what they taught you in those advanced classes at school. But back to the subject, what did actually happen?"

Hermione responded by launching into a long-winded rant, detailing exactly what had happened to her over the last few days.

"… and that damned girlfriend of yours embarrassed the bloody hell out of me every few minutes! And I'm not exaggerating - every few minutes! Harry, for Merlin's sake, you've stayed with the Weasleys alone for long periods of time, you've tolerated - I mean dated - Ginny… You could have warned me!"

Harry smiled pleasantly. "That's not how experience works."

A scone flew across the room and hit Harry square in the face.

Harry stared at Hermione, a look of utter shock on his face. "Hermione… I can't

believe you'd keep ruining all these delicious scones that Kreacher slaved over all morning!"

Hermione opened her mouth to retort when a loud CRACK resounded through the kitchen.

"Did someone call Kreacher's name, Master Harry?"

Harry grinned at Hermione's befuddled expression before turning to the elf. "Why yes, Kreacher, I did. I was just telling our houseguest here about all the hard work you put into this wonderful breakfast when one of said breakfast items - namely, a blueberry scone - came out of nowhere and smacked me in the face. And as Hermione was the only person present in the room, I assumed said scone came flying from none other than Miss Granger's hand."

An appalled Kreacher turned his great pale eyes to Hermione while an appalled Hermione turned her furious glare at Harry.

"Is this true, Missus Granger? Is you throwing Kreacher's scones at Master Harry?"

Hermione threw Harry one last dark look before turning to Kreacher. "Yes, Kreacher, this is true. And I know throwing your scone was wrong. However, in my defense, Master Harry was being an extremely insensitive prat. A lesson had to be learned."

Kreacher thought for a moment before turning to Harry. "Did you learn your lesson, Master Harry?"

"Yes, Kreacher, I believe I did."

"Then Kreacher's scone was not thrown in vain," the elf croaked. "But Kreacher is cleaning now, so if there is nothing else…?"

"Actually, Kreacher, Hermione and I are about to leave for a day or two - if anyone stops by, tell them we'll be back soon, okay?"

Kreacher bowed until his long nose brushed the ground. "Yes, Master. Kreacher will be happy to inform any visitors of your absence."

"Thanks, Kreacher."

"Master is welcome." Kreacher straightened and with another CRACK exited the room.

Harry turned his attention back to Hermione. "So now that that's been handled… shall we go then?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't appreciate the change of subject, but I suppose the sooner we leave the better. I'll Apparate you, as you have no idea where we're going."

Harry nodded in consent. "I'll grab some clothes and we'll go, then."

"Oh, I already packed you a change of clothes," Hermione replied, exiting the room for a moment and returning with a tote bag, which she promptly shrunk and placed in her handbag. "You left a few things at the Burrow."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "How were you so sure that I would come with you?"

Hermione reached out and clasped Harry's hand tightly in hers.

"You always do," she said with a smile.

Then she turned on the spot and the duo disappeared, accompanied by a soft pop.

*************

When Harry opened his eyes, his jaw almost dropped at the sight that met his eyes.

He and Hermione stood on an expansive beach. Starlight glistened on the ocean's surface like thousands of flawless diamonds, dancing as the tide rolled gently upon the silver shore. The water drifted forward to barely touch the tip of his shoes before retreating.

Hermione's laughter broke through Harry's reverie; she was clearly amused by her friend's awestruck expression. "This is Manly Beach," she said. "My parents and I vacationed here a time or two."

"It's amazing."

Hermione nodded in agreement.

As Harry continued to gaze over the ocean, he noted what he had been too mesmerized to detect before. He turned his eyes towards Hermione.

"Wasn't it morning when we left?"

She nodded once more, this time in rather bashful manner. "Yes, it was - about ten o' clock, I imagine. I forgot to consider the time change."

Hermione paused for a moment as she recalled the time difference between London and Sydney.

"I believe it's about eight o' clock here."

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure. I think it would be rather impractical to go to my parents' house now. They're probably about to go to sleep. I suppose we could go back to Grimmauld Place until later tonight…"

"Are you serious?" Harry said incredulously. "I'd rather stay here for the night. You've already brought clothes and everything, so why not stick around here until morning?"

Hermione looked unconvinced, but at Harry's continued pleading finally gave in.

"Fine! We can stay. I don't know what on earth will be open at this time, but I'm sure we could find something to do."

"That's the spirit!" Harry said cheerfully, now turning around and examining the area behind him with renewed interest. "Let's go!"

He then started to walk confidently towards the beckoning lights of Manly's nightlife. Hermione scurried along in his wake, shaking her head amusedly at his enthusiasm.

************

Apparently there was less to do than they had imagined. Though they occupied themselves happily for numerous hours by merely looking at the numerous attractions lining Manly's plaza, the Corso, Harry and Hermione quickly realized that none of them were open. Eating was pretty much out of the question, as they had just eaten breakfast before they Apparated, and very few respectable-looking restaurants were serving at that hour anyway. And as Harry's repeated supplications to sneak into the city's aquarium were met with continual and steadfast refusals, they eventually found themselves at a loss as to how to spend their remaining time. When Hermione spotted a bench over-looking the ocean, she and Harry sat down in resignation.

"This is bloody brilliant!" Harry said in frustration, placing his head in his hands. "We're spending the night in an exotic foreign country and we can't find a single thing to do!"

"It's the middle of the night, Harry," Hermione replied. "What would you expect? The only places open at this time would be primarily nightclubs and bars."

"And just a few weeks until I turn eighteen. Once again, bloody brilliant."

As soon as the words had left his lips, Harry's head shot up.

"Wait a minute. You're eighteen."

Hermione shifted uncomfortably. "And that would matter why?"

A mischievous grin appeared on Harry's face.

"Because you can go into nightclubs and bars."

Hermione's head was turning from side to side before Harry could finish his sentence.

"Absolutely not. I am not getting us into a club."

"Come on, Hermione. Just a small bar. Not even to drink. Just to kill some time. I mean, what time is it? One in the morning? We can't just sit out here for the rest of the night."

"Au contraire, Mr. Potter…"

"Just for a few hours."

Harry watched the range of emotions that crossed Hermione's face in quick succession: outrage, hesitation, thoughtfulness, more outrage, annoyance. He smiled broadly as grudging acceptance finally graced her features.

"Fine," Hermione said coolly. "And I know just where we're going."

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