The Winding Road of Shadows

The Winding Road of Shadows

by Mu xxx

DISCLAIMER:This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoat Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Rating: NC17
Pairing: Harry/Snape (Harry/Ginny in the beginning SORRY!)
Warnings: This story will contain SLASH or sex between two males and also explicit HET sex. Beware of supernatural themes. I apologise for the Harry/Ginny in the beginning- please forgive me! There also may/may not be mention of Harry/OMC.

AN:There will be some travel in this fic, and I do hope to keep all details as accurate as possible- some aspects of the particular countries described may be changed to suit the purpose of the fic... if this offends anyone, then sorry! ^__^

Chapter THREE



~~

Harry and Hermione, Melbourne Australia (August ‘98)

It took well over two hours for him and Hermione to get through customs and immigration at the Melbourne Tullamarine airport. All the while Harry had been holding his breath and trying not to look suspicious, hoping that their transfigured magical items didn’t show up something funny on the bag x-ray machines; for the first time ever he realised why when transfiguring an object you needed to ensure you got the spell exactly right and didn’t mess up the objects most simple elemental makeup.

Once that ordeal was over, he trailed Hermione tiredly. Once outside and after they were blasted with an icy, wet wind, they found the bus that would take them into the city, the Sky Bus.

The only seats left were up the back, beside a boy and a girl who looked only slightly older than themselves.

“You don’t mind if we sit here, do you?” Hermione asked them politely, and they both smiled.

“No worries, take a seat. Have you come from England? I bet you’re both exhausted!” The boy grinned at them, his face friendly. Both he and the girl sported rather nicely bronzed skin, as though they had been in the sun recently.

“Yes, we are actually!” Hermione sat next to the boy, and Harry took the window seat.

“I’m Ben and this is Loren.” Ben said and his grey eyes were bright.

“I’m Hermione, and this is Harry.” Hermione shook his hand, and Loren waved at them both.

“Ohh, like Prince Harry. I bet that’s a popular name over there.” Loren smiled, her teeth perfect and pearly white.

Harry smiled, having never really made the connection before. “I suppose, I guess I’ve never really thought about it.” He admitted. He realised he enjoyed listening to their carefree accents.

“So where are you guys staying?” Ben asked.

“Well, I booked a night in a hotel, but after that we’ll be looking for a backpackers or a hostel. I think the hotel is in Little Collins Street, the Victoria?”

“Oh I know that one. I’ve stayed there before; it’s actually really good for the price! Just be sure to wear thongs in the shower, wherever you go.” Loren laughed.

Harry blushed and Hermione noticed, though Harry was confused when she slapped him on the arm. “She means flip-flops, you fool.” She was grinning at him and Harry felt his heart lighten momentarily.

“I forgot that you guys call them that. So are you a couple, or what?” Loren asked them, and Harry blushed red again.

“Ahh… no, we’re just friends actually.” He said, and Ben raised an eye-brow at him in a way that reminded him unappealingly of Snape. “We’ve known each other for seven years.”

“Well I’ve only known this idiot for a year and a half, but he’s been my boyfriend for almost the same amount of time. We’ve just come back from his dad’s house, up in Queensland- right up in Cairns, which is the reason we don’t look albino like everyone else here.”

“Well, they’re either albino or orange.” Ben and Loren laughed, but Harry was confused. Hermione seemed to get it, though.

“It’s exactly the same in England. In winter, and most of summer too, come to think of it, just about all the girls go from pale white to fluorescent orange in a matter of days.” The girls laughed, and Harry smiled, happy to hear Hermione’s laughter.

“Well, this is our stop. If you guys are interested, I can give you my mobile number and we can hit the clubs or something.” Ben said, handing Hermione a piece of paper with a ten digit number on it.

“Yes, thank you. I think we might in a couple of days or so. It was very nice to meet you.” Hermione was smiling sincerely at them both as they said their goodbyes, and Harry waved.

“They seemed nice.” He commented, not letting Hermione move away from him, since the heater in the bus didn’t seem to be doing its job too well and her leg against his was warm.

“They did. I think this is a really good idea Harry, for us to meet with them and have some fun. It will refresh us so that we can think better, and it can’t hurt to experience something of the Australian culture.”

Harry smiled knowingly- only Hermione could make going out to a club seem like something educational. He had never done anything of the sort, but supposed there must be the wizard equivalent out there somewhere.

The city of Melbourne certainly was busy, even at nine in the morning, or more especially at nine in the morning, since that seemed to be the time that everyone started work. The roads were congested, but the bus seemed to make steady progress, though the Knight Bus would’ve just flown through it all.

They were deposited on Spencer Street, at the train station.

Hermione appeared to have done this before, and Harry was grateful, since he would’ve felt completely lost otherwise. When they were talking fast, Harry found it hard to understand the locals. They didn’t appear to talk in those ridiculous riddles like he had once been told, like how saying the frog and toad actually meant the road, or anything like that. They just spoke really fast.

“Okay, so we need to get on a tram, because there is no way I’m walking this time. We could put a feather light charm on our bags, but I don’t really want to risk much magic out here.” Hermione said, and started rattling around in her bag for something.

“What are you looking for?” Harry asked when Hermione seemed frustrated.

“No, it’s ok. I’ve got it.” She pulled out a small purse which rattled with coins, picked some out, and handed them to him. “This is for the tram, since I don’t fancy getting caught without a ticket, no matter how short our trip is. We can get an all day ticket and use it later, too.”

The tram they got on said it was going to some place called Bundoora, but Hermione assured him that they certainly weren’t going that far. Hermione ended up getting frustrated with him when trying to use the ticket machine- was his ticket meant to be full fare or concession? Were they in zone one, two or three? Did he want an all day ticket, or a two hour one?

“Now don’t lose that, Harry.” Hermione said as she ushered him into a seat, and he stuffed the ticket in his pocket dutifully. With their backpacks they took up the whole small booth, but the tram didn’t have too many people in it, so it was ok.

After only about five minutes, Hermione was urging him to get up so that they could get off at Swanston Street.

“Okay, so we’re on Bourke and Swanston, so that means… yes, this way Harry.”

They turned right down Swanston, and now there were people and shops everywhere. There were even novelty horse and cart rides, and trams everywhere, and people playing odd instruments or singing into portable microphones with containers for people to throw money in for their efforts.

“It’s an amazing city, isn’t it?” Hermione smiled at him, though Harry could see the anxiety in her eyes. He felt it too, an almost sudden overwhelming sensation of how on earth would they find two people in this massive, crowded place?

They found Little Collins Street with relative ease, and their hotel was only a short walk up the narrow street. The foyer of the Victoria Hotel seemed rather grand to Harry, who had only ever stayed in the Leaky Cauldron. The people at the desk seemed nice, but Harry was too tired to pay much attention, letting Hermione work it all out. Once they had their key, they used the lift to reach the third floor, and unlocked room 325.

Inside the room was small, but clean. There was a double bed and two singles, a TV, kettle, bar fridge, and a door that lead to very small, but equally clean bathroom. Hermione found the remote control for the heater, and turned it on so that it blasted out heat furiously.

With an exhausted sigh, Harry collapsed on the closest bed, and felt almost like he was waiting for their newest adventure to begin.

~~

An Undisclosed Location in Britain (June ‘98)

Approximately two weeks into his new life, he had begun to sense that he was being watched. Whoever was watching him was scentless, or at least was indecipherable, or perhaps just a constant presence to which he had become accustomed. It didn’t matter where he went, whether it was at his home (of which he was Secret Keeper) or whether he was out during the night, blanketed by the darkness to preserve his identity as he hunted for food.

It was a great annoyance, since he had more important things to occupy this mind with. There was still much that he had to adapt to, and senses to fine tune and other magics he needed to practice and discover. Whoever or whatever that was watching him were first-class in their abilities, he thought, though the most difficult aspect was always ensuring that whoever was being watched was unable to sense it. It did occur to him that perhaps his watchers wanted him to be aware of their presence, and that made a certain degree of sense.

For, since his rebirth, it had been immediately obvious to him that he was unlike usual vampires.

Usual vampires seemed to have more constrictions on their movements, and their hungers, but he seemed able to control most of these urges. In fact, he hardly looked any different, and was able to walk in the sunlight, and his eyes weren’t blood red with bloodlust. The most surprising aspect was, however, the fact that he needed to drink water on a fairly regular basis. He had never heard of a vampire requiring anything other than blood, and it baffled him.

The main difference for him was that his vampirism was due to an old family curse, as he had neither been bitten by nor drunk the blood of a vampire. He had heard about the curse as a child, and romanticised it at one point, but never really believed that it was accurate. He didn’t have the full story, as his mother had refused to tell him of it, though that wasn’t unusual for her; she had rarely shared much information on her family, other than to say that they were all miserable wretches for disowning her.

For now though, he had to concentrate on Potter; Potter, while he wasn’t responsible for his death as such, had killed the one who was. And by default, that meant that Potter would be the one he had to kill to avenge his murder. And from all that he knew, Potter wasn’t anything really special. His mother was the one who had worked the powerful magic that had kept him alive and over the years the boy had just been inordinately lucky. As for killing the Dark Lord, well, he had been lucky with that as well.

With a sigh, he moved himself, preparing to exit his house in to the night in search of sustenance. Donning his long, black hooded cloak, he left his house and as soon as he stepped out onto the sidewalk, beyond the wards, knew that whoever had been watching him was near. His hackles raised, lips drawn back to reveal his extended canines, he hissed as three dark figures came at him from either side.

“Reveal yourselves!” He hissed, dropping to a crouch, his fingers clawed and forgetting all about his wand for the moment. He tensed when one of the figures laughed softly.

“Ah, my dear great-great-nephew, relax, we mean you no harm.” A rich, masculine voice floated along the eerily quiet and deserted street.

These words made him tenser, if possible. His great-great-uncle? He was trying to figure out just who exactly this man was when one of the figures moved faster than his eye could follow and wrenched his arms behind his back, holding him immobile in a grip of steel.

“Release me!” He rasped, struggling with futility against the arms holding him. He tried to kick out backwards, but the figure dodged with ease.

“Never fear, nephew. As I said, we mean you no harm. Yet. It depends on your reactions. The decision is ultimately yours.” The voice bore a familial resemblance to his, actually, though the tone was all wrong; it was sickly sweet and honeyed, though the underlying hint of malice was certainly strong and present.

He relaxed immediately, though sensing a plausible threat. No, he couldn’t let himself be killed before he could complete his task. He would momentarily surrender, and listen to what these brutes had to say to him. He had a good sense of self-preservation usually, if you ignored his human death, and was adept at trickery and deception.

Yes, he would listen. But would he abide?

Only time would tell.

~~

Harry and Hermione, Melbourne Australia (August ‘98)

Their first day in Melbourne consisted of rest, and finding something to eat. There were restaurants everywhere, so the latter was easy. Hermione had lead him up to what she called a Hare Krishna restaurant, and the menu was very affordable, and the food delicious, despite being vegetarian. The rice was heavy but pleasurable in his stomach, the spices lingering on his tastebuds.

Melbourne at night was a spectacle, and Harry could hear the constant thrum of music with heavy bass beats radiating from various buildings and passing cars. There were all sorts of people, with Tonks lookalikes at every turn that left his heart aching. They walked along Swanston Street, Harry in a daze, until Hermione started pointing out things.

“That ugly looking thing is what they call Federation Square and opposite is the Flinders Street Station, and the building is heritage listed.” She informed him, though Harry couldn’t really summon up much enthusiasm. They continued walking, crossed a bridge, and to their right along the river were more shops and restaurants. Harry was able to tell that this area spoke of affluence, with people dressed to the nines or standing around in bars holding fancy-looking cocktails.

“That ahead is Crown Casio, but I don’t think we should waste out money with gambling.” Hermione smiled at him. “And this is Southbank, and my limited sources were able to ascertain that my parents had an apartment in one of these buildings.”

Harry’s eyes widened. Now, he didn’t much know anything about real estate as such, but it was obvious to him that it would be very expensive to live here. Apparently Hermione’s family were quite well off.

“Do you know which one?” He asked.

“No, not yet, but I’m sure I can find out. I was thinking we should start our search here, tomorrow in the day light. Maybe they left something behind.” They were walking close together, and at Hermione’s sadness, Harry put his arm around her shoulders. It was warmer like this, too, and they were almost the same height so it was quite comfortable.

They meandered around silently, holding each other, and were probably mistaken for lovers. Harry didn’t care though, and he was sure Hermione didn’t either. It was such a good sensation being this close to someone, feeling comfortable enough with them in their presence to be able to enjoy one another’s silent companionship. He loved Hermione, she’d always been such a good friend to him, and he was determined to be as good a friend to her as she had been to him.

In his relaxation, it came as such a startling surprise to Harry when suddenly he felt that horrid sensation of being watched. It was the same as in Diagon Alley and he was deadly certain that whoever had been watching him there, was watching him now. He felt his blood run cold, his first thought jumping to Voldemort. But that was absurd- Voldemort was dead, by Harry’s own hand, and not only that but his now faint scar would surely have alerted him to Voldemort’s presence.

No, whoever was watching him certainly wasn’t Voldemort. Probably a stray Death Eater, he thought idly. For the moment, however, he felt certain that whoever was watching him was doing so peacefully.

What Harry didn’t know was how long that peace was going to last.

~~

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