A Hogwarts Reunion

Harry squinted his eyes against the blinding sun that beat down on him. He pulled his wide-brimmed hat lower and grunted when droplets of sweat made their way down his forehead and stung his eyes. He removed his glasses to wipe the sweat from his brow, and his world went blurry. Glasses back in place, he began to curse silently.

Damn you, LeStrange! he thought vehemently, as the wind flared up and sand pounded against his face. The camel he was riding lurched precariously, and he tightened his grip. Leave it to her to flee to Egypt, of all places. He had grown accustomed to the sun, although he'd begun to loathe it with every fiber of his being.

He'd been tracking Bellatrix for nearly four years now. After finishing his Auror training in a record six months, the Ministry had let him loose with orders to bring her back unharmed. He'd tracked her through Russia, where he'd been intercepted by a Vourdalak.* The thought made him shudder despite the heat; if Neville had reached him any later, he would have died. He'd spent nearly a week recovering, as it was.

He'd tracked her through America, Canada, Greenland, Argentina, Italy, and Spain - and now her trail had led him here, to Egypt. He'd tried to keep his profile low by traveling as a Muggle, only using magic when necessary, and it seemed to have worked - until yesterday evening. She had been alerted to his presence when a tawny owl had gotten lost trying to find him. He sighed angrily and fingered the crumpled letter in his pocket.

Bellatrix wasn't a complete twit, as easy as she was to track. Even she had realized when she'd seen the owl that it meant only one thing - she was being hunted. He felt a surge of excitement - he was a hunter. He was tracking her every move, and he wouldn't rest until she stood before the Wizengamot. He looked forward to sitting in that stuffy room and watching her be escorted away for a second time - only this time, her destination wouldn't be Azkaban. She'd be receiving a kiss from the Dementors instead.

Exhaustion caught up with Harry as he traveled, and he pulled on the reins, making the camel come to a slow halt. He hopped down and pulled out his wand. With a curt flick, two large tents appeared. The camel, having traveled with Harry for a week now, did not seem to be surprised at all, and entered the larger of the two tents. Harry smiled to himself as he heard the camel noisily slurping the cold water that he'd conjured inside the tent. He hadn't looked around before using his wand - there was simply no need. They were in the desert, and no one was around for miles.

He entered the smaller tent and flopped down on the cot inside. Withdrawing the invitation from his pocket, he wondered who'd been the idiot responsible for sending it. Surely Dumbledore, in his great wisdom, knew where Harry was and what he was doing, and would not risk his discovery by sending a silly invitation. No, Harry decided. It could not have been Dumbledore at all. And when he'd found out who'd done it, he was going to give them an earful.

*Vourdalak = a Russian vampire, considered in Russian folklore to be a beautiful but evil woman.

"Ron, haven't you finished that report yet?" his father asked incredulously. Ron sighed and dropped his quill as his father left the office, muttering under his breath about procrastination. Before he could retrieve the quill, however, a small owl flew through the window and dropped a letter on his desk. He watched, his heart full of envy, as the owl turned and soared out the window.

"Wish I could just fly away," he muttered, breaking the seal on the letter. It was addressed to Ron Weasley, Ministry of Magic, Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. He groaned; any reminder of his job made him feel wistful and jealous. All he could think about was Harry, and how he must be off having some grand adventure - without Ron and Hermione.

He opened the letter and read it, his eyes growing large. When he had finished, he blinked in surprise. A reunion? A dance? He loosened his collar and gulped, then turned to the only picture that hung on the wall in his office. There, waving and smiling happily, stood himself, Harry, and Hermione. He watched his friend grin and vaguely wondered if Harry would show up for the party. If Ron knew Harry (and he was fairly certain he did), he was sure he was off saving the world from evil again. He grinned to himself at that thought. Yes, wherever he was, Harry was surely doing something that kept everyone else safe at night, while endangering his own life.

He glanced at the invitation again and reread it. He could bring one guest - who would he bring? Hermione would be the most logical choice, but another name popped into his head of its own accord.

Ginny.

He would take her, and perhaps she and Harry could rekindle old flames. He smiled to himself and sat down to begin his letter to Hermione, explaining that he was going to bring Ginny, but she was going to be his date, not his sister. A wicked grin crossed his face.

This reunion thing was sounding better every second.