Chapter 2

Harry and Hermione stepped out of the front door, locking it up behind them. Dan and Emma had left earlier that morning, getting into a taxi that would take them to the airport where they were going to catch the plane to France. Initially, Hermione thought her parents would be taking a train through the new channel tunnel. However, while the tunnel was completed, they weren't going to be sending commercial trains through until November. Maybe next year they could all take the train to Paris; there were probably fewer security checks on a train than on an air flight.

Hermione checked the instructions they had again, much to Harry's amusement. Dan and Emma had apparently spoken to Director Bones, who had been more than happy to help them get in touch with one of the Ministry's less prestigious departments, the Department of Muggle Liaison. They were able to help the older Grangers arrange transportation and documentation for Harry and Hermione to visit France.

The first thing they had to do was get to the Ministry of Magic, but that was a rather easy thing according to the information packet that the Muggle Liaison officer had put together for them. They would be travelling by something called the Knight Bus, which could take them anywhere in the mainland United Kingdom that they wanted to go. All they needed to do was wave a wand hand while standing next to a road.

Harry did just that, and less than twenty seconds later, a huge purple triple-decker bus pulled up right in front of them. A man dressed as an old-style conductor stepped off the bus. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency transportation for the witch or wizard in need. We'll take you anywhere you want as long as we don't need to drive over water."

"Uh, hi, we need to get to the Ministry of Magic visitors' entrance." Hermione took charge of talking to the conductor, who looked only about nineteen.

"That would be one Galleon each." The conductor told them. Harry pulled the two gold coins from his pocket. The instructions they had included the price, so Harry had kept two coins separate in order to pay quickly. As he handed the gold over, he watched as the conductor's eyes flicked to Harry's forehead, then to Hermione and back to his forehead.

"Well knock me down with a feather, it's Harry Potter and Her-my-own Granger! I seen you both in the papers this last week." Harry hid a wince. Not only was the conductor the type of wizard who seemed obsessed with the media, but he had butchered Hermione's name. "Hey Ernie, it's Harry Potter and his girlfriend, you know the one who was in that article all the witches were talking about the other week!" He shouted to the driver.

Harry thought that the conductor would keep them standing here all day, so he jumped in before he could start talking again. "Um, we do need to get to the Ministry. Maybe it would be better if we continued once we are on our way. Plus, I don't want to keep your other passenger's waiting."

The conductor jumped as he remembered that he was working at the moment and showed them onto the bus. Harry looked around with some trepidation. He had expected wizards not to have regular bus seats; his years in the wizarding world had shown him that wizards often had strange ideas when it came to adapting Muggle things. What he hadn't expected was a bunch of armchairs and loveseats just scattered throughout the space. Yes, the seats looked comfortable, but they also looked like they would bounce around the bus whenever the bus moved. Hermione pulled Harry into one of the empty loveseats. Almost as soon as they were seated, the bus lurched forward with a bang. The love seat that the two teens occupied slid towards the back of the bus, crashing into the other furniture.

Hermione grabbed Harry and buried her face in his chest. Harry recalled from last summer when they visited Gringotts that she didn't like roller coasters and the like. He could only imagine how much worse this was for her. He wrapped an arm around her and held her close. Hopefully, this trip wouldn't be too long. Harry looked out the window expecting to see the grey of London's streets only to see Hogsmeade out the window. Harry may have only been there once, but the magical village was hard to forget.

Seeing Harry's curious look, the conductor said. "This is where we was before ya flagged us down. We need ta drop off Madam Solbloom. Poor old thing can't focus enough to apparate any more." They soon pulled up next to one of the homes on the outskirts of the village on the far side from the school, and a little old witch carrying a few bags of shopping came down the stairs to the upper decks. The conductor was instantly at her side, helping her safely down the steps and off the bus. Once she was off, the bus lurched again, and this time they were travelling through a Muggle city again. However, as Harry could see the sea in the distance, it was definitely not London.

The conductor, now having time, continued talking to Harry and Hermione. Well, mostly to Harry as Hermione was doing her best to keep down her breakfast. He introduced himself as Stan Shunpike, and he was a gossip. He not only questioned them about the article that had appeared in both Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly, but he also went on about the fact that the Ministry was not looking too good over the escape of LeStrange. She had left the UK, and Fudge couldn't send anyone to look for her in other countries.

He also went on about how LeStrange's companion had put the Imperius Curse on Malfoy and made him do such terrible things. That had been Draco and his father's defence at his trial for repeatedly using an Unforgivable Curse on Harry. That it was a complete crock of shit hadn't stopped the Wizengamot from clearing the git. Harry did tell Stan that he didn't believe that Malfoy was under the Imperius Curse. As Stan seemed to be a bit of a gossip, Harry hoped that maybe a few members of the public would doubt it as well, after Stan told them about what "'arry Potter said".

After another four people got off the bus and two more got on, it was Harry and Hermione's stop. The bus pulled up next to an alley someplace in London that Harry didn't recognise. He and Hermione gladly got off the bus; Harry had fared better than Hermione, but even he started to feel queasy after the first two stops. The alleyway was completely dull. Harry wouldn't have looked at it twice if he was walking past. The only thing of note in the alley was an old-style red telephone box with a large "Out of Order" sign on it. According to the instructions that they had, the phone box was the entrance to the ministry.

Hermione leaned on Harry as they went and got in the box. Typically, Hermione would have charged ahead, wanting to understand the magic used to conceal one of the most important places in magical Britain. However, she was busy trying to put her stomach back in its proper location after the trip in the Knight Bus. The two of them got into the booth, and Harry picked up the phone and dialled 62442 as the instructions told him.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic, please state your name and the reason for your visit today." A woman's voice came from all around them.

"Harry Potter and Hermione Granger here for an appointment with…" Harry rechecked the instructions. "The Department of Magical Transportation - Portkey Office," Harry spoke into the receiver. He doubted it mattered, but the habit of a lifetime was difficult to break. There was a sound of something falling into the coin return slot, and the phone booth started to sink into the floor.

The voice returned. "All visitors to the Ministry are required to display their visit badge on the front of their robes at all times while inside the Ministry. You are required to present your wands for registration to the welcome wizard. Have a nice day." Harry reached into the coin return slot and pulled out two golden badges. The first badge stated HARRY POTTER - Portkey Office appointment. The only difference with the other was that it had Hermione's name. Hermione reached into the bag she was carrying and pulled out two sets of light casual open style robes. Harry recognised one of them as belonging to himself, and he gave Hermione a questioning look.

"You've seen what wizards are like, they are completely opposed to change. I don't want to deal with that and bureaucracy at the same time." She handed Harry his robe, and he pulled it on over his t-shirt and jeans. He knew what Hermione was avoiding saying. Muggleborn were very under-represented at the Ministry, and family names counted for a lot when the Ministry was hiring. Such people were more likely to have a problem with her parents, but looking like she was more comfortable in robes than Muggle clothing would stop people jumping to conclusions that (while accurate) could lead them to be disruptive.

Harry straightened out his robes before pinning the badge to the front. He and Hermione bumped into each other a few times as they sorted themselves out in the right space. The booth reached the bottom, and the door opened, Hermione stepping out first and Harry following. The atrium was huge. The great hall at Hogwarts that comfortably sat 1400-ish students could have fit inside four maybe even five times. The room was a large oval; there were magical fireplaces lining the walls, and every few minutes, someone would come out of one of the left-hand fireplaces in a green flash of flame. The floor was black marble with veins of white marble and gold running through it. The centre of the room was taken up by a water feature that had a witch, a wizard, and a few other magical races looking up at the witch and wizard with awe and devotion. Privately Harry thought that the only way a goblin would look at a Wix like that would need to involve a severe head injury, or a large bribe and a very gifted goblin actor.

Now that she wasn't queasy from the bus ride, Hermione pulled the instructions from Harry's hand and reread them. "So we just need to present our wands to the welcome witch or wizard, then go to level six." Hermione was talking more to herself than Harry; checking and rechecking was one of Hermione's nervous tics. It normally led Hermione to revise like crazy before any kind of test. Before he had started acting like a total prat in second year, Ron had once joked that Hermione would probably study to pass a blood test. Even Hermione herself laughed at that one. Harry sort of missed Ron, or at least the Ron with whom he had become friends. Ron, as he was now, wasn't someone Harry had any second thoughts about avoiding until he grew up.

The two of them approached the desk that lay between them and the rest of the atrium. A birdish-looking wizard directed them to place their wands on a strange device that looked like half a set of scales. Harry went first.

"Holly wood with a phoenix feather core, 11 ½ inches, in use almost three years," the wizard read off a receipt that had come out of the device. "Is that correct?" Harry told him it was, so the wizard placed the receipt on a spike and handed Harry back his wand.

Hermione went next. "Vine wood with the heart sting of a dragon core, 10 ¾ inches also in use for almost three years. Is that correct?" Hermione answers that it was and the wizard repeated spiking the receipt and returning the wand. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. I hope whatever your business here today is, goes well."

He didn't sound that welcoming, and as for hope, it sounded like the only thing he hoped for was the end of his shift. He looked at their badges and said, "The Department of Magical Transportation is on Level Six. The lifts are at the far end of the atrium. Have a nice day."

Hermione spied a few leaflets on the desk and took one of each, and the two made their way to the lifts. No one paid any attention to the two random people walking through the ministry, so Harry was able to look around at everything. The walls and ceiling were a smooth arch of black stone that, while not marble like the floor, was polished to a glossy, almost mirror-like shine that reflected back the light of the fires there for people to use with the Floo network. Three massive columns of white marble were placed in a line, running down the centre of the huge room and supporting the ceiling.

Harry and Hermione joined a queue for a lift going up and soon found themselves pressed in with a bunch of strangers in an old fashioned lift that started moving as soon as the door was closed. Soon, the lift stopped, and the same voice from the phone booth said. "Level Seven - Department of Magical Games and Sports, including British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters, Official Gobstones Club, and the Ludicrous Patents Office." As soon as the voice ended, the doors slid open, a few people got out, but no one got in. A few paper aeroplanes flew in and started circling at the top of the lift just before the door closed, and the lift started to move again.

Hermione was looking at the paper planes in curiosity. She could see that they had writing on them, but it was impossible to read more than a single word without context. One of the other passengers, a witch who looked to be in her fifties, noticed Hermione eyeing the planes and said, "They're interdepartmental memos, dear. This is your first visit to the ministry I assume?" She smiled.

"Yes, I guess it's obvious I'm looking at everything like some tourist," Hermione admitted.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone is the same on their first trip here. Well, unless they are here because they are in trouble, then they are too worried about themselves to enjoy the experience. I still remember my first trip here when I was twelve and the Gobstones club was hosting a tournament." The older lady reminisced.

"Did you win?" Hermione asked politely.

"Nope. I got knocked out in the second round by an Irish lad, I think his name was Finnegan."

Before the conversation could go further, the lift stopped again and the voice started talking. "Level Six - Department of Magical Transportation, including Floo Network Authority, Broomstick Regularity Control, Portkey Office and Apparition Testing Center."

As the door opened, Hermione said to the witch, "This is my stop. It was nice meeting you." Harry and Hermione stepped out of the lift, a few of the memos following them. The two of them found themselves in a long corridor. There were posters everywhere that said things like -

'Splinching hurts - only practice apparition with a licenced instructor.'

'Unregistered portkeys are a crime - register now or pay the fine.'

'Don't forget the Floo powder for the return trip - don't leave yourself stranded.'

Hermione had their instructions out again. "OK, so according to this we just go to the portkey office, they will have a desk for international travel. We will just have to give them our names and the paperwork we have, they will give us some forms to sign and then give us the portkey."

Harry had read the instructions as well; from most people, Harry would have found Hermione's insurance to go over the instructions thirteen times maddeningly annoying, but he didn't mind when it was her. "Well, according to the sign, the portkey office is this way." Harry pointed to the left.

The portkey office was just that, an office, with a witch or wizard handling each desk. The one for international portkeys was the busiest, and a number of the witches and wizards in the queue were definitely not from the UK. At least that's what Harry asúmed, given that a few of them were talking in a language other than English and their robes were quite different to the ones Harry saw British magicals wearing.

Not only was the queue for international travel the longest, but it was also the slowest moving. Travelling to another country took more paperwork than arranging something that only moved inside the UK. Eventually, it was their turn, and after a quick start from the wizard when he realised it was Harry Potter at his desk, things went smoothly.

"Ok Mr Potter, Miss Granger, most of the paperwork seems to have been filed already. That's unusual, do you know why?"

"We are joining my parents in France, and they did most of the paperwork before they left. We had to wait till school let out before we could go." Hermione half-lied. While nothing she said was untrue, it left the impression that her parents were magical and that they had been in France before Hogwarts had let them go for the year. Harry wondered how successful the misdirection would be, given that Witch Weekly had referred to Hermione as a Muggleborn, but no matter; if the clerk knew or not, he didn't say anything.

"OK, that makes sense to me. All that is left is for the two of you to sign the forms,'' he handed them each a form and a jet black quill. "Have either of you used a blood quill before?" he asked. They said that they hadn't. "Well, no problem. You just sign your name like normal, but instead of ink it will be signed in your own blood. That will embed your magical signature into the parchment. If it were a contract, then it would become magically binding, but this is just a formality form. So all it means is that you understand what is expected of you as a representative of Britain while you are in another country, and that while in another country you are under their laws. It also gives us a magical signature to check you against when you return home. The quill will cut you a little on the back of your hand, but don't worry, it will completely heal in a second or two." With some hesitation, both of them signed their form. It stung a little bit, but Harry was fascinated to see his own name cut into the back of his hand then to heal completely just as quickly, leaving his signature on the parchment in bright red blood that quickly dried to a dark brownish-red.

The parchment glowed red for a few seconds then faded back to normal. "OK, that's all done. You need to take these forms, go through that door there," he indicated a door behind him that had a sign that read International Departures. "The next portkey to France is in 35 minutes so you have plenty of time. You will be leaving from departure room four. Enjoy your holiday." With that, the wizard rushed them along so that he could begin helping the American women behind them.

Behind the door was a waiting area with fifty or so chairs that looked like they had been comfortable at some point but definitely weren't any longer. There were seven doors and a list of destinations and times on a label over them. Above the fourth door it read:

Spain 1:30pm

Italy 1:40pm

France 1:50pm

Germany 2:00pm

The wait wasn't that long, but with nothing to do it seemed to drag on. Every few minutes a witch would call out a country and say what room it was leaving from, and ask those travelling to make their way to the departure room.

Eventually, she called for the people travelling to France. Harry, Hermione, and a couple of older people that Harry and Hermione assumed were French (given that they were speaking French to each other) made their way through the fourth door and down a small corridor, into a round room with a circle of runes etched into the floor.

"OK, you must be the ten to two group going to France. If you're not going to France, you are in the wrong place, and off you go back the way you can." No one moved. "You probably have done this before, but I need to give you all the speech. You will take this rope," he held up a loop of rope that was blue, white, and red, "and go into that circle on the floor there. Keep one hand firmly holding the rope, and the magic will do the rest. Don't let go until you get to France, else you might get left here and there isn't another portkey till tomorrow. And once you arrive, get out of the landing area quickly. You should have about ten minutes before another group arrives, but there is always the possibility someone screwed up the schedule, and you don't want a group of people landing on you." Harry and Hermione followed the instructions to the letter standing with a strong grip on the rope.

"Hey, Hermione," she looked at him. "Do you think the red, white, and blue rope means that it's going to France or coming from the UK?" It was a pointless question, but he was a little nervous about this new method of travel.

"I don't know. The pattern looks more like the French flag, but it could just be the colours. It's a little silly anyway; red, white, and blue is a very common colour combination for flags: the UK, France and America just to name a few -" Hermione got cut off when they all suddenly felt a pull. It was as if someone had put a hook just behind their belly button and pulled with incredible force. It drew them into a tunnel of wild violent wind that buffeted them on all sides.

Harry couldn't have told you how long it lasted, it could only have been a couple of minutes at most then they were thrown out of the winds and into a huge room with a domed ceiling that must have been fifty feet high in the centre. It was a beautifully decorated room, with white walls and large moving paintings framed with gold-coloured decorative work. It was obviously meant to impress any visitors. However, Harry and Hermione didn't have admiration for classic French decoration on their minds, the two of them were more concerned with the rapidly approaching door and the fact that their heads were spinning too much even to attempt to land on their feet.

As they approached the floor the rope that they were holding slowed down quite a lot. It wasn't enough to stop both Harry and Hermione from crashing to the floor as soon as they landed, but it was sufficient that it was no worse than slipping and falling on your ass. Harry got up quickly so that he could help Hermione to her feet. He was so focused on her that he didn't notice the French ministry official who had approached them until he heard her speak. Of course, she spoke French, so Harry didn't understand a word of it.

"Bienvenue en France. Vous êtes le 14:50 qui vient d'Angleterre?"

"Ouai, c'est nous. Ça fait du bien de revenir." the Frenchman that had traveled with them said.

"Vous allez devoir passer par l'immigration, ensuite vous pourrez rentrez chez vous."

Hermione and the two adults started babbling in French and Harry was utterly lost. But the three of them sounded slightly agitated.

"Désolé, je pensais que vous étiez de la même famille. En attendant, on a toujours besoin de vous faire passer par l'immigration pour la paperasse." the French ministry women sounded almost subdued. Harry was completely lost.

They all started walking towards an exit, the three adults still jabbering in French, so Harry asked Hermione what was going on.

"Oh it's nothing to worry about, The Ministry woman thought that we were with the other two we travelled with. She thought we were all a family." Hermione explained.

They exited the arrivals room and entered a smaller room decorated in the same style. They were split from the adult French couple as signs directed them to different desks, the older couple going to a desk that dealt with people who had French citizenship while Harry and Hermione were directed to a desk conserving visitors.

The paperwork was relatively quick; they handed over their new passports to be stamped and signed a few documents and that was it, apart from the wizard questioning that two teens were going on holiday to a different country without adult supervision. Hermione explained about them meeting her parents in the city as soon as they finished up with the paperwork and that they were just travelling separately. That had been enough to satisfy the bored French wizard who quickly signed off on them entering the content. He also gave them a booklet on notable magical locations and how to access them, which included the information on how and when they needed to return to the French ministry for their return trip to London. Like their British counterparts, the French 'Ministère des Affaires Magiques de la France' was underground, and it would have been easy to lose their way if Hermione couldn't read the signs well enough to find the exit.

They took a lift up to the city, and a little more than an hour after they had left home in London the two of them stepped out into the streets of Paris. It took the two of them some time and a map book that Dan had included with their travel paperwork for Hermione to orient where they were in the city. "Oh we're just south of the islands in the middle of the city. And mum said we should meet at the Eiffel Tower, so that's about three kilometres west of here. We just need to figure out how to get there."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Harry mused. "I mean the whole city must be used to people looking for the tower, it is their most famous landmark."

"True but it's only three kilometres, it would be a nice walk," Hermione suggested.

So that's what the two of them did. They spent the early part of the afternoon strolling arm in arm west through the streets of Paris on their way to the Eiffel Tower. Considering how tall the tower was, they had thought finding their way would be easy. However, Paris's combination of narrow streets and buildings three to four stories tall blocked the view. They didn't get to see the tower until they emerged from one street and found a wide-open grassy lawn that led from a river on their right to an impressive old looking building long ways to their left. After that, it was easy to know they were going in the right direction, and they were able to follow the road they were on straight to the tower.

It took them longer to find Emma and Dan than it did to walk from the French Ministry to the tower. The large numbers of people there due to it being the start of summer made the task way more difficult than it needed to be. Once the kids had found Hermione's parents, the four of them took a taxi to another part of the city and checked into a hotel. After an early dinner at the hotel's restaurant, Dan and Emma turned in early after a long day of travel, leaving Harry and Hermione to relax in their room.

A/n

*translation.

"Welcome to France, you are the 2:50 from England, correct?"

"yep, that's us. It's good to be home."

"let's get you and your children through immigration then you can go home."

"My apologies, I just assumed that you were a family. But either way, we still need to get you to immigration and to sort out the paperwork."

Thank You to my beta PHINEAS for his efforts to make my attempts at English readable..and thank you to muffin who helped with the French. You are both amazing!