Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Harry Potter and the Aftermath


by RyanJenkins 0 reviews

When an unexpected invitation from far away arrives, things take off in a new direction.

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: G - Genres: Romance - Characters: Arthur Weasley,Ginny,Harry,Hermione,Molly Weasley,Ron - Published: 2016-11-24 - 3729 words - Complete



I never did find that bullfrog, partly because those low notes are hard to localize, but mostly because two couples came walking out of the orchard after a little while, heading for the pond, and both girls detached themselves and came straight over to where I was standing.

“You,” began Ginny, “are wonderful,” she finished after surprising me with an embrace and a kiss that made me turn pink.

“And you,” said Hermione, following the same interrupted-sentence procedure, making my coloration even deeper, and finishing with, “are definitely coming to our wedding, is that understood?”

“Yeah...sure!” I was blinking real fast.

“That's a promise, then, mate,” grinned Ron, as he put his arms around Hermione.

“And you should most certainly invite Alistair Blackstone,” added Harry with his arms full of Ginny. He smiled and kissed her hair. “The girls decided they should be the ones to thank you for setting it up. Have we got a deal, then?”

“Boy...that's a lot more fun than a handshake! You bet we do!” I had a smile on my face that was threatening to split it in two. “I'll go back and arrange it, just as soon as we've gotten into that vault in Godric's Hollow. If I can bring that money back with me, they'll all be too busy counting to raise any objections.”

Getting into that vault turned out to be both harder and easier than I thought. Harder, because it took Bill, Jamie, Kenji and Professor Flitwick (who showed up at the Ministry the morning after he got Bill's owl, eager to meet Jamie and compare techniques) two all-night sessions to make it happen; easier, because I didn't go with them. They pointed out that they needed to concentrate and weren't sure how much space they would have to work in, and Hermione and Harry's description of the state of the Bagshot house – and the smell – convinced me. It turned out that Fangboner and Joey had put their Fidelius Charm on the full basement, and when the team finally broke that charm, two closet doors moved aside and the cellar door appeared between them.

Down a rickety wooden staircase, they found a new cinder-block wall across the space, with a massive iron door set into it, and had to work a second night breaking a whole other set of curses and hexes before it would open. Inside, sure enough, they found a massive collection of golden Galleons and Franklins in boxes, and a fair amount of smaller change in bags. We got it all moved (I'm not saying how) to a secure location in London (I'm not saying where) and Percy Weasley organized a team of Wizards and Witches from the Accounting department to make an inventory.

So it was five days later when Jamie and I sat with Percy in the upstairs room at The Leakey Cauldron, drinking butterbeer and whistling at the numbers written on a piece of official Ministry parchment.

“Nice work, Percy, getting this done so fast!” I said, and meant it.

“Thanks – but it was rather fun, don't you know,” he replied. “We're going through it a second time, as a check, but I rather think these figures will hold up pretty well.”

“No worries about that,” I assured him, “but we've got to make a stab at reconciling these figures with the ones you've been digging out of the files. Even allowing for the fact that all the Franklins came from America, there's – what, almost six hundred thousand Galleons more than the records account for?”

“Five hundred eighty-one thousand, two hundred sixty-seven, fourteen Knuts and twelve Sickles,” said Percy, taking a drink. “First approximation. And I'm pretty well done with the international financial records,” he added, “unless your fellows transferred funds through Patagonia or North Korea or some other really out-of-the-way place.”

“At least some of that must have been stolen over here,” said Jamie, “and really ought to go back where it came from...if we can ever find out.”

“Absolutely,” I agreed, “but how much?”

“We may never know exactly how much, or just where it came from,” said Percy seriously. “I think the Minister and the Secretary will have to negotiate an agreement on that. I'm going to propose that whatever the Ministry ends up keeping, if we can't definitely determine the original owners, be used in a general rebuilding fund to help undo the damage Voldemort caused.”

“Hear hear!” I said, “You can count on strong American support for that! But I'd really like to take the rest of it back to Washington quickly, and I'm hoping to leave tomorrow.”

“Oh! As soon as that, then.” Percy was surprised, and tossed his head with a grin. “You Americans, always in a hurry!”

“Well, there's a good reason,” I said, and pledged them both to secrecy. I explained about the wedding dilemma, concluding with, “...and I promised to set it up as quickly as possible, once we got the money out of the vault. I figure bringing that back with me will tend to, um, give me a bit of extra leverage, if you see what I mean.”

“That ought to do it, all right,” said Jamie. “But hey, as long as we're being confidential here,” he glanced at both of us, and we nodded, “remember that honeymoon prescription we talked about, Ryan?”

“Yes indeed!” As I spoke I saw Percy beginning to look shocked, and Jamie and I burst into laughter. Boy, Jamie's quick; just one little choice of words! “No, Percy, it's not that kind of prescription!” I was bringing my laughter in for a landing. “But if you want to find out – well, there's a conspiracy afoot, and you'll have to join.”

“Swear oaths on a skull, pledge your first-born, and seal it with your own blood, that sort of thing,” offered Jamie. “Are you in?”

“Yes please!” Percy looked delighted. “Been conspiracies all round me, all my life – well, mostly from the room upstairs, I'll grant – and I so rarely ever get to join in. Love to! What are we conspiring to do? And who are we conspiring against?”

“Better say we're conspiring for someone, not against – and it's Harry.” Jamie chimed in and explained the medical reasons for our concern, and Percy started to nod.

“I see what you're saying, and just between us, I think you're right. It was...well, it was hard on all of us, but I can't really imagine what Harry went through. Giving him a chance at some respite is a splendid idea.”

“And that's why I prescribe a honeymoon, somewhere outside of Britain where his fame won't be a problem,” Jamie finished. “Ryan and I talked this over – and of course, that's part of the conspiracy that our two couples don't need to know about! – and now, I think I may have a solution.” Before we could say anything he held up a hand. “I really don't want to say anymore about it in a public place. It involves some things our people have kept secret for a long time. In fact, aside from you, Ryan, the only people I can talk to are the members of the Weasley family, and Harry and Hermione of course. If this is official business, Ryan, it's classified beyond top secret, if you catch my drift.”

I nodded. “I'd call it very unofficial official business.” I looked at Percy who nodded solemnly, his eyes alight.

Jamie went on, “I'm glad you're here, Percy – can you arrange to get them together, at the Burrow would be the best place, sometime soon?”

“Leave it to me,” replied Percy with a nod. “Should I call Charlie back home from Romania?”

“Oh, no need to do that. This really only affects Ron and Ginny, but Arthur and Molly should know, and there's no reason to keep it secret from any other family members who happen to be around. You can tell the others later. I know it won't go any farther.”

“Right. When do you think, then?”

“Well, the sooner you all know, the sooner they can make plans.”

And that's why I was at the Burrow the following evening, with Jamie, chasing the last bits of gravy around my plate with a bit of bread after one of Molly's really excellent chicken dinners. Percy and George were there, but Bill and Charlie were absent.

“Lovely, Molly dear,” said Arthur, “delicious as always.” He was backed up by a chorus that included at least one burp. “Let's have coffee in the front room, shall we? Ryan has something important to tell us, I understand.” We relocated, after Molly made a pot of coffee and one of tea, and they had been suitably distributed and adulterated. Everyone sat down, got comfortable, and looked at me.

“Well, there is something important you should know,” I said, “but I have no idea what it is. This is Jamie's show.” I turned to Jamie and quoted an old movie. “OK, kid, you're on. You're going out there an unknown, but you're going to come back a star!”

Jamie laughed and retorted, “Rubbish! One of the many handy phrases I'm picking up over here. All right. Here's what's happening. I've been keeping my family, especially my Grandfather, up on what I've been doing over here, and Grandfather's been especially interested in the warriors who defeated the Evil One. When he heard that you four--” he gestured at the two couples, sitting on the couch with the girls in the middle, “--are going to get married, he apparently got in touch with some of his personal network. I've never known how extensive that is, but I'm sure it goes a lot further than anyone realizes. He let me know that something was up, and when I got back from Godric's Hollow, I found a package waiting for me.”

From his robes, he pulled a Federal Express international envelope. I don't know if the Muggles who founded FedEx are aware that there's a Wizarding section in their company; I think it was developed by some employees. It's expensive, but packages go long distances a lot faster than a bird can fly, and at the destination end are somehow extracted from the stream and sent on by regular owl delivery. Don't know how they work it. Jamie set the envelope on the floor, pulled out his wand and tapped it, and immediately it expanded to a large box about two feet on a side. He tapped it again, a strip ripped itself off, and the flaps opened.

Inside, the packing material was green, and fragrant. “Ti leaves,” he said. “Not tea like you drink, this is spelled 't-i' – a tropical plant with some medicinal properties, and said to bring good luck.” He reached down in, felt around for a moment, and extracted a large, lustrous conch shell. “Just as I suspected. Hold this for me a moment, would you?” he said happily, handing the shell to Ginny and Hermione. Rummaging further in the box, he came up with several other smaller sea shells (very nice ones, beautifully colored), two big green coconuts, and a large cream-colored envelope, made of thick, expensive-looking paper. On the front were two eagles, embossed, and on the back it was sealed with green wax molded in the shape of an octopus.

Jamie tapped the octopus with his wand, and it became a bird, took off, and flew three times around his head before disappearing in a puff of green smoke. He opened the envelope, and found several pages. He held one up and it was covered with writing in blue ink...and in Hawaiian. “Let me try something,” he said, and passed his wand down the first page. “That's better! Thank you, Grandfather.” He read the page, and looked up. “ an invitation. A very special one. But we must do things in the proper order, and the first thing to do is...” he held out his hand and Ginny handed him back the conch shell. “...sound the pu.”

“The what? That sounds like my sort of business.”

“No, George,” laughed Jamie, “see the hole here in the conch shell? It's been made into a trumpet, and the Hawaiian word for it is 'pu.' These folks may or may not be aware of the English language connotations, and my advice is: don't bring it up. All right, let's see if I can do this.” He inhaled a full lungful, then put his lips to the shell. A long, low note came forth and got louder, and after ten or fifteen seconds (just as he was running out of breath) a swirl of something – something gossamer-thin, growing, moving, darkening from a pure white as flashes of color appeared – came out of the hole in the other end of the shell. Jamie set the shell down on the coffee table and stood back.

The apparition solidified (or appeared to) into a large man, tall and hefty, with golden-brown skin, wearing a truly astonishing costume. Sandals, and a patterned kilt or breech-clout – it was impossible to tell because over all he had a yellow cloak with an angular pattern in red and white, several necklaces of shells and stones beneath a strong face, and on top of his head a helmet, red with patterns of black, that ended in a high curving crest coming from back to front. He was there in perfect solid-looking clarity, and as I looked closer I saw the most amazing part: his cloak, and his helmet, were made of feathers. Thousands upon thousands of tiny feathers.

He faced the group on the sofa, and appeared to look them right in the eye. When he spoke, his voice was deep and melodious, and nobody understood a word he said except when he mentioned “Mr. and Mrs. Harry Potter” and “Mr. and Mrs. Ronald Weasley.” His tone was authoritative, but friendly, and none of the small gestures he made were anything but reassuring. It took him several minutes to finish his speech; at the end, he spread his arms in a welcoming way, then put his palms together, said something, nodded, and suddenly shrank, becoming a large ocean wave which broke spectacularly over the couch without getting anything even damp, and dissipated like smoke. We all looked at Jamie.

“Nope. I didn't understand it either. But it's all in this letter.” He scanned the pages, moving his wand down as he went. Our eyes didn't leave him, and finally he looked up and fixed his gaze on the group on the couch. “Harry, Ron, Ginny, would you like to have a month – or more, if you like, it says here – in a lovely safe place where you can have complete privacy, or company if you like, where nobody knows or cares about your being famous, and where you won't have to deal with Muggles unless you want to? And before you answer, it won't cost you a poke – I mean, a sickle.”

The four of them looked at each other in several combinations, and finally Harry spoke for them all. “It sounds it where I think it is?”

“If you're thinking it's in Hawaii, it is.” Jamie was grinning, and looking very impressed at the same time. “But not just Hawaii. You've been invited to stay on Halekahuna, the Invisible Isle.”

“Halekahuna? I thought there were eight Hawaiian islands – Hawaii, Oahu, Maui, Kauai, Molokai, Lanai, Niihau, and Kahoolawe. Are you saying there's another one?”

“Gold star in geography!” said Jamie, but nobody else looked very impressed; they're used to Hermione by now. “And yes, there is. It's the home of the Hawaiian Wizards, the Kahunas. They made it an invisible, and unplottable, refuge a long time ago – right after Captain Cook showed up, I think. Incidentally, 'Halekahuna' isn't the island's actual name; only the Kahunas know that. It's just a Hawaiian word that means “home of the Kahunas,” and that's what it's called by the very few outside people who know it exists. Like Niihau, only Hawaiians are allowed on Halekahuna, and that's why this invitation is so amazing. As far as I know, the only other haole – that's their word for Caucasians – who's ever been there was Father Damien. If there were any others, they didn't talk about it.”

“Who's Father Damien?” asked Harry.

Hermione, of course, knew the answer. “He's a Catholic priest who's famous for treating the lepers on Molokai when no one else would.”

“So...we're getting this invitation because I'm famous?”

“No!” Jamie held up both hands. “Don't even think that. Not with these people. They couldn't care less about who's famous in the haole world. You're getting this invitation, all of you, because in their eyes, you've earned it. My Grandfather didn't ask for this, it was all their idea, once they heard you Warriors were getting married.” He turned to the letter. “Look, here's what they are offering: each couple will have their own house, off by itself, but only a few minutes' walk from each other, or from their village, where you will be welcome anytime. You can get food and supplies in their market, but there's no money on the island and you can't pay for anything. So you can be private, or visit each other, or enjoy their village – they're really nice people, and I've always heard they're amazing Wizards.” He turned to the next page. “And you can visit the other islands anytime you like; they'll show you where to Disapparate to, and how to get back. You really ought to do some of that, too. There's a lot of Muggles, but there are Wizards too, and Hawaii has some incredibly cool places to visit.”

“Yes indeed,” I chimed in, “the beaches, the mountains, and the rain forest, and you won't want to miss the volcano. It's still erupting, last I heard.”

“There's a volcano? And it's erupting? That sounds dangerous.” Ginny sounded worried.

“It's on Hawaii – the Big Island,” explained Jamie, “and Ryan's right, it's been erupting for ten years or more, I think.”

“It's safe enough; tourists come from all over the world,” I added. “It's a National Park.”

“Yeah...Hawaii's in the United States, in'it?” Ron seemed a little dubious. Wizarding schools don't teach geography for some reason; I had it in fourth grade.

“Yes, it's our fiftieth state,” I contributed. “But I'm not so sure about Halekahuna, now that I've found out about it.”

“The Kahunas don't recognize the US Government,” said Jamie seriously, “and since their island doesn't appear on US Government maps, I guess they don't have to. All the other islands are American, though, and when you visit them you'll just be Muggle tourists.”

“What about passports and things?” asked Hermione. “If we just sort of appear, without going through customs, won't that be a problem?”

“No worries. If you are noticed by the authorities for some reason, you will need valid passports, and to be listed in the Muggle State Department computer files as having come through customs with a visa and all that, but I think I know someone who can make that happen,” I said modestly, breathing on my fingernails and polishing them on the front of my robes. “Here – tell you what – let's look at Hawaii.” It only took me a couple of minutes to get my computer set up and connected. I opened up one of about a thousand (it looked like) Hawaiian tourist websites, and Harry, who was getting good at web-surfing, got out his wand and took over. The sound of a band with a steel guitar lead filled the room with I Want To Go Back To My Little Grass Shack In Kealakokua Hawaii, images of Diamond Head, surf rolling in on beaches, and girls in grass skirts filled the display. Everyone studied it intently.

After a couple of minutes I caught Percy's eye, and we stepped into the kitchen, and I shook his hand. “Nice work, Percy! Telling them I was the one who had something to announce was a great move. I'll conspire with you anytime.”

“It was fun,” he grinned. “And what an invitation! They'll go for it, never fear, it's simply perfect. No wonder Jamie wanted to announce it in private. These Kahunas sound quite formidable. And say, Ryan, there's something else...”


“Well, if you remember, we had a bit of a set-to about that, um, film clip thing, up in Kingsley's office?”

“Oh yeah. I am sorry about that, Perce.”

“And you'll remember I made some noises about eventually...retaliating, shall we say?”

“I sure do. I haven't had a good night's sleep since.” I said it with a straight face, and Percy obviously bought it. He's such a wide-open target; it's easy to see why Fred and George couldn't resist driving him up the wall.

“Well, please forget it. I was a bit miffed at the time, but, well, after all you've done, and now this – just wanted to say, I take it all back.” When all is said and done, Percy's a Weasley, and Weasleys are good people. I thanked him and we shook on it.

Back in the front room, everyone was excited, and Jamie was explaining that the other sea shells in the box were portkeys (Trans-Atlantic and Trans-Pacific both, which I didn't know was possible) which would activate after the wedding and take them directly to the island.

“Brilliant!” said Ron, turning one of the shells over in his hand. “But, ahh, one thing...”

“Yes?” I prompted, wondering if he'd found something else to worry about.

“What are the coconuts for?”

“To eat,” said Jamie, “but not now. Green like this, they're fresh and young, not like the old hard brown coconuts you see in the market. And they'll stay that way, I'm sure; the preservative spell will break when you open them. After the wedding, when you get ready to leave, each couple should share the milk from one of them, and eat some of the coconut meat. At this stage it's sweet, and very tender. But the Kahunas have put a special charm on these two. They'll help you through the portkey experience – you'll be going halfway around the world! – so you'll feel fresh and rested when you arrive.”
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