When Worlds Collide

Chapter 4: Tying Up Loose Ends

Harry looked around the motel room, the afternoon sunlight filtering in through the net curtains. A small dining table squatted to his left with three wooden chairs perched around its perimeter. Next to a small couch, a television sat in the corner looking out into the room, a few magazines lying haphazardly in the cabinet underneath. One single bed lay tucked away under the window, dust particles visibly dancing in the sunbeams above the covers.

Harry turned to see Draco step over the threshold of the entrance and walk through the small kitchen into the main room, glancing around disdainfully.

"Where does this go to?" Ron said, and Harry saw him curiously turning the handle of a door in a side wall.

"The other half of this unit," Tony's voice followed him through, and Harry followed his friend into the neighbouring room. He was met with the sight of three more beds, each with the same apricot covers as the first. They were separated by small bedside drawer units, and a large wardrobe lined one of the walls.

"The bathroom is through that door," Tony said, motioning to the door standing by the wardrobe. "Towels and things will already be in there. It's quite a sizeable unit really, for the price," she said, gazing around satisfied. "It probably helps that we're during a school term over here, at the moment. That would explain the many vacancies."

Ron sat on the bed nearest him, looking dejected and tired. "Do they even know we're gone?" he said. No one had to ask what he was referring to.

Harry sat next to his friend in silent support. "They should by now," he said. "I'm sure there's a reason no one has found us. There must be..." his voice tapered off into silence.

Draco was in no apparent mood to be sentimental and supportive, but his incessant movement and shifting his feet showed his discomfort in their predicament, and his wish to be home.

For a minute, the room was blanketed in sombre silence, the only sound coming from the occasional passing car on the road, barely audible.

The quiet ended with the approaching footsteps of Trina and Hermione.

"I was talking with Hermione outside," Trina addressed Tony, "and although having her stay with one of us may have worked out cheaper, she'd like to stay with these guys."

Tony thought about this. Now that she'd heard Hermione's wish, she felt rather selfish for suggesting anything else. The English girl had just been stranded on the other side of the world from home - of course she was going to want to stick with the only faces of familiarity on this side of the globe. Tony reflected on her tendency to have been the one in control of happenings without regard to how confused the visitors would be feeling, and she coloured slightly, feeling ashamed.

"Uh, yeah, of course," she said, awkwardly. "Well, we've paid for this full unit anyway, so at least there will be room for her. Just." She turned to Hermione. "And you can help Harry in showing the other two how to function in the muggle-world without any major destructions."

Hermione nodded, looking much happier now that she knew she was to stay with her friends.

"I'll get an information brochure from the reception office," she said. "That would have some interesting things listed, for us to do."

"Yeah, that's a good idea," Trina said. "Ask them if they have street maps too. Although I'm sure you'll be interested to look in the library, the others may not be so keen." She smiled at the understatement.

Trina reached into a pocket of her jacket and withdrew her wallet, to withdraw a crisp green $20 note, and a blue $10 one. She walked back into the first room to put the money on the table as she said, "Harry and Hermione can handle this, as they'd know how. And I'm going to leave our phone numbers on some paper with it as well, okay? That way you can contact either of us if you need to. I don't expect that amount of money to last long, covering all four of you, but try to make it last until we next meet up. Which should be tomorrow."

Harry led the group back into the first room to Trina and said, "How long do you think we'll have to stay here?"

Trina hesitated, before answering, "Here in the motel, or here in New Zealand?"

Harry looked uncertain at how to respond. Obviously, his question could have applied to either.

Tony leaned against the wall, and closed her eyes as she quietly sighed. Opening her eyes again, she said, her tone clipped and regretfully impatient, "Look, work with me here. We're leaving as soon as we can. We're hoping for about two weeks in Hastings, and then we go. But," she continued, unable to conceal the hope on her face, both for her and for the visitors, "you may be contacted by someone from Hogwarts by then, and we won't have to do all this. Our plan is the last-resort tactic."

There appeared to be nothing further that needed to be done right then, so Tony headed back through the kitchen and out the door to the car, muttering something about "short-notice," "work resignation", and "faster than my usual style."

The remaining five looked around at each other in the wake of Tony's departure, before Trina awkwardly summarised with, "So, yeah, get takeaways or something for dinner, and uh, call us if you need anything. We'll come and see you tomorrow."

That said, she turned and followed her friend out.

~<>~

The Gryffindor Common Room looked no different now, than it did when Harry, Ron and Hermione were there, Ginny was unimpressed to notice. The fire still burned bright and spiritedly, as if dancing with joy for no particular reason. Ginny threw a disciplinary piece of shingle from her shoe in, for good measure, before sinking lower in the plush red armchair. She still hadn't moved from this place since her brothers had left, but had instead opted for despairingly gazing into the fire. She knew, of course, that this wasn't productive at all, but was unable to think of an alternative that would keep her mind off the disappearance of the trio.

"Still no word, then," a voice penetrated her thoughts, making her look up with a start. Lavender Brown had taken a seat opposite her, and was looking at her with concern.

Ginny didn't need to reply. Her sombre face said it all, and Lavender had surmised as much and so hadn't expected an answer.

"The library just seems so much emptier, with Hermione not in it," Lavender continued, in an effort to cheer Ginny by making conversation, but now she was worried that she'd just made it worse.

Ginny had straightened abruptly at her words. "You don't suppose there'd be anything useful in the library about where they've gone, do you?" she said, hopefully. "I mean, Hermione always finds useful things in there for Harry."

A smile pulled a side of Lavender's mouth. "Hermione already has a basic knowledge of what's in the library, so she knows roughly where to look," she said. "Besides, I'm sure Dumbledore can do better than anybody else here, and he's doing all he can, I'm sure."

With a sigh, Ginny sunk backwards in the seat again. " 'All he can'...sure. He's one of the greatest wizards in the world, and it's 'all he can' do to wait for moves from You-Know-Who."

A silence from Lavender made Ginny look up, and she immediately regretted her retort. Could it be that Lavender hadn't thought Voldemort involved? Maybe she'd just scared her. But a look into Lavender's eyes assured her that she had indeed suspected - to the degree of being sure - that Voldemort was responsible.

A question was flicking around Ginny's mind, but she didn't want to voice it for fear of making everything worse. She was sure Lavender had the same question, and Ginny was glad that she didn't say it either. Despite Dumbledore's assurances, the question continued to plague them both.

How do we know they're not dead?

~<>~

Professor Snape and Professor McGonagall stood in the headmaster's office, gazing downward expectantly at the headmaster, waiting for him to speak.

The kindly old man rested his fingertips together, and when he spoke, his voice was laced with regret, with a hint of hope.

"Voldemort has not yet left the country," he started. He reached for a lemon drop, while his colleagues contemplated whether this comment was meant to be a good thing or a bad thing.

"From this we can establish," Dumbledore continued, "that wherever Harry is, he is quite safe."

Ah, so it was a good thing.

"I have means of seeing the movements of Voldemort, and am sure that when he goes, it will be to Harry, at which time we will follow and intercept. Until then, he is just as clueless as we are to Harry's whereabouts."

"Headmaster," Professor Snape said sourly, "let us not forget that it is not only Potter who is missing. My prize pupil is also gone. Does this concern extend to him?"

McGonagall looked at Snape in shock at his rudeness, while Dumbledore was ever-placid.

"Your consideration for the students of the school is admirable, Severus," the headmaster replied. "I'd assume then that your heartfelt anxiety is also for the other missing students, Mr. Ron Weasley, and Miss Hermione Granger."

McGonagall could not refrain from smiling slightly as she looked again to Snape, who was looking rather taken aback.

"Uh, of course, headmaster," he attempted to recover himself. "With all this talk of Potter, it seems to have been overlooked that there are other students with him, and so this may not be all because of him." His tight-lipped expression assured McGonagall that if this debacle was because of Harry, at least 50 points would be assured to be deducted from Gryffindor.

"I see your point, Severus," Dumbledore replied. "But I see no reason for Voldemort to have an active interest in the remaining students. Unless," he looked over his half-moon spectacles to Professor Snape, "there is something concerning Mr Malfoy and his activities you wish to tell me."

Professor Snape gaped for a moment, resembling a red-faced greasy fish, but saw that Dumbledore had effectively cornered him. He simmered lightly as the headmaster continued.

"As long as Harry is safe, I think the other three students share the same condition," he said. "Voldemort wants nothing with them - it is only Harry he wants."

Professor Snape look distinctly displeased that Harry was again the centre of attention, and Snape resented the headmaster's comment brushing on Harry's popularity, which spurred such unnecessary competition against his house. And, although he would not say so aloud to others, fought with his own personal biases.

Dumbledore must have known the general direction of the Potions teacher's thoughts, and he turned his head to look at him and said, "Of course, Mr Malfoy will be given every concern that, as a student of the school, he is worth."

McGonagall again stood impressed with the nature of Dumbledore's jesting. Her amused smile was reflected in the old man's eyes as she thought of just how much this concern he spoke of amounted to.

Not as much as Snape would like, she was sure.

~<>~

"I went round to the motel," Trina said to Tony as they sat at a small table outside Café Westermans, "but they weren't there. The lady at the front office said they'd gone out to look around town, or something. If we don't get hold of them, they'll eventually catch up with us when they run out of money and get hungry."

Tony smiled over the rim of her coffee cup as she softly blew on the swirling vapour rising from the it.

"You got rather short with them yesterday, you know," Trina censured, with a small frown. "I'm sure I don't need to tell you they'd be feeling very out-of-place right now, and you getting angry would be the last thing they need."

Tony gave up on cooling her coffee anytime soon, and set it down for it to cool in its own time. "I wasn't getting angry," she said. "I was getting frustrated. There's a difference. I'm pulling my weight and trying to help as much as I can, and at my expense - at my great expense, I might add - and the least they could do is co-operate while I try to get things sorted. They're acting as though I think it's great that they're here making a royal hash of things while I fling my money around for them at the smallest whim."

"Whoa, okay," Trina said tentatively, as if trying to settle a wild horse. "Settle down. They're not acting like that though. But I guess you're just getting stressed by it all." She looked down at her frappe. "So, you're saying they've outstayed their welcome in our fair country. Or at least, under our fair hosting."

"They'd outstayed their welcome before they got here," Tony grumbled in reply. "They should have just stayed in the books where they made a lot less trouble."

Trina frowned at her friend again. "Not that they were only in books to begin with," she corrected. "It was always happening, only we didn't know about it all until that Skeeter woman found a way to pen it all."

"Yeah, well, whatever."

Trina looked down at the swirling steam still rising from the cup of coffee in front of Tony. "You'd better drink that soon, girl - your attitude really needs it."

Tony glared at her friend and opened her mouth, ready with a sharp retort of the kind she would surely regret later. Then, as if in doing this she'd seen the sense in Trina's accusation, she drowned any forthcoming venomous words with hot coffee. It had cooled enough for it not to burn, but Tony still hissed through her teeth, bringing air across her tongue to cool it.

After she swallowed the hot flavourful liquid, neither of them spoke for a good few minutes.

"I wrote my resignation letter last night," Tony finally said. "They'll get it tomorrow, or Tuesday."

Trina raised her eyebrows in realization. "Well, that would explain a lot about the attitude. Do you think they'll take it well? The vets at your work, I mean."

"They won't have a choice, will they?" Tony said, sardonically. "They'll probably ask why, and give me hassles about it, but they can't stop me going. They'll just have to find someone else to spare their pocketbook by working for meagre wages."

"Your pay wasn't that bad."

"Still, my boss was right up with Scrooge on the Misers-R-Us list."

"What about your passport?" Trina said. "You said you'd have to get that sorted."

"Yeah, well, I was going to do that on Monday," Tony replied, "but considering the extra expense these guys are turning out to be, I really shouldn't be making purchases unless I have to. And Mum got me a passport a couple of years ago, when she thought the whole family was going overseas on holiday. The photo's really outdated, but it would still be valid. Because Mum keeps all the passports together and they hadn't been mentioned for ages - not to mention no one's used them - I'd forgotten that I even had one."

"Oh, okay," Trina said, mixing her frappe cream with her straw. "So without that needing to be sorted, what do you have left to do?"

"Do my final stint at work, then the hardest bit - just leave."

"Right. The hardest bit," Trina concurred.

"When are you going to tell your family you're going?" Tony asked. "You'll need to give them ample warning. And they'll want time with you before you go."

"Yeah," Trina said, a note of sadness in her voice. "I plan to tell them in the next couple of days - maybe tonight. I'll tell them how we're road-tripping up to Auckland, then flying to London." She sipped her frappe, before asking, "What about you?"

Tony didn't answer at first. "That's where we're different," she said. "Us and our families. There would just be too many complications if I told them about it. They'd want months notice, and they'd want to me to do lots of cultural research first, and contact some people over there."

Trina looked incredulous. "You're just going to up-and-leave in the middle of the night?"

"No," Tony said with a laugh. "I'll tell them we're road-tripping to Auckland. They'll suspect up to a week, I'll be away."

"And you'll just fly to London without telling them? What will you do once you get there?"

"Send them a postcard."

Trina sucked up her frappe cream through the straw so hard it belted her in the back of the throat. She coughed twice in recovery, before saying, "What?!"

"Ok, with a letter. Of explanation. Things will be quicker that way. Yes, they'd be shocked and upset, but they'd be shocked even if I told them in advance we were going. And we need the time - we need to go quickly. They'll get over it."

Trina blinked. "I could never do that to my parents."

Tony looked accusingly at her. "That's because your parents are different from mine. We both know that. I could never do this to your parents either, if I had them. I know my parents! Don't make me out to be so mean!"

"I didn't mean to!" Trina heatedly replied, before looking intensely at her frappe when she was looked at in disapproval for her loudness, by a passing pedestrian.

In the wake of the verbal exchange, silence again ensued, and Tony looked down at her coffee. The billowing clouds were no longer there above it, and the surface of the liquid had lost its creamy blanket, having settled now into its bland dark brown. She raised the cup to her lips, and upon tasting that the drink was now a distasteful warm, she put the cup back down and pushed it away.

It was bitter anyway.

~<>~

The door to the motel room hurriedly opened, banging against the wall, and the four teens bustled in. No one would guess they were different from any other teens as they animatedly discussed the morning, Hermione was unpacking the groceries from the plastic bag she had suspended from her forearm. Draco seemed a little more relaxed, and even occasionally included himself in their conversation, making his rare positive input at intervals. Ron however couldn't refrain from glowering at him when he dropped his McDonald's burger wrapping on the floor and made no effort to pick it up - commenting that 'the house elves will get it'. Ron's reminder to him that there weren't any house elves in the motel still didn't prompt him to clean it up, and Hermione quickly leaned down to pick it up and deposit it in the rubbish before an all-out brawl could ensue.

"I was so disappointed that I couldn't get a membership to their library," Hermione said as Harry pushed the door closed. "Some of the books in there looked really interesting."

Harry and Ron, who had now learned to ignore their friend's incessant comments regarding libraries and 'interesting books', couldn't refrain from sniggering at Draco's perplexed and incredulous expression, discernable through the wave of white hair in his face that he kept flicking away, frustrated.

"We're not going to last long just on this," Ron said, rifling through the shopping. "We'll need more money soon."

Any comments Draco may have been about to make about Ron and his accessibility to money were silenced by a swift warning glare from Hermione.

"Maybe Tony and Trina came while we were away," Harry suggested. "Where's the paper with their numbers on it? I'll give them a call."

Ron crossed to the table and glanced around for the paper, finally finding it nestled by one of the chair legs, and passed it to Harry.

Harry walked to the phone - which was in the room with three beds and no table ('rather silly,' Harry thought) - and made the free local call, the faint rustling of the shopping bag still audible from the kitchen.

Draco had made himself comfortable - well, as comfortable as he could, in a wooden chair - with a magazine, when Harry came back through into the room where the rest of his companions were.

"Did you call?" Ron asked.

"I got an answering machine. It told me Tony's cellphone number, but you can't make calls to a cellphone from the motel phone."

"Did you leave a message?" inquired Hermione, no doubt worrying what complications would arise if someone else heard it.

"I just said hi, basically. And that it would be good to see her again. I didn't leave a name - hopefully she doesn't know many local people with our accent. She'll figure out something to say if someone else clears the message."

Hermione appeared to be satisfied with this, and she crossed to the small couch, cradling two biscuits in her hand. "Ok, so we wait."

~<>~

Voldemort was restless. But all he could do was wait. Wait. He could wait. After all, he had waited many years for things before. His plan had begun. Soon, he would have what he wanted.

~<>~

"Okay, it's a week," Tony said, pacing the motel room restlessly. "I talked to my boss, and he's given me one pay period that I have to work before I go. That's a week, not two. And since I'm not getting a new passport now, we can manage that." She glanced over at Trina, who was curled up at the edge of the couch. "Can't we?"

The orange of the setting Monday Evening sun bathed the room in it's soothing gold, but the anxious New Zealanders had barely noticed it.

"I guess," Trina said, but her face betrayed that she wasn't happy about it. "I'll need to stay at home most of the time then. If I'm going to leave home for a long while, in just a week, Mum and Dad will want me home for most of that time."

"Right," Tony said, resignedly. "Well, we can work with that."

The Hogwarts students - particularly Ron and his expressive face - looked particularly excited that they were a week closer to getting home.

"Ok, so that's the plan," Tony said, once again resuming the leadership role. "And if you get contacted by Dumbledore, or whoever," she said, now directing her speech to the British teens, "let me know. Give me a call or something..." She turned to Harry and said with an amused smile, "Good way of handling the answer machine yesterday, by the way. I was the one that cleared it, so it would have been okay anyway, but all the same, very ingenious."

Ron had a glazed expression over his eyes as he near-whispered, "Soon. Soon we'll be home."

~<>~

On the other side of the world, in his dark house, the dark wizard smirked eerily and said, "Soon. Soon they'll be here."