Viator

“Now That you have finished what is, quite possibly, one of your more ill-conceived ideas, I think we ought to discuss business.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Harry replied, slipping the twenty years he had won into his satchel. “So, I’ve heard from Frank and Gabe about how things have been going this end, but hearing first-hand accounts is always better than second-hand. So?”

“Well, they could be better, seeing as the aurors are still present, but they could be quite a bit worse than they actually are.” Hermione replied. “My parents and I are still poised to move to France at a moment’s notice if I become a wanted person as well, but beyond that things have been going rather well.”

“What about the Defense professor front?” Blaise asked.

“Oh, it’s really funny actually.” Neville began. “So, you know how Kingsley was one of the aurors who were sent to investigate?”

“Yeah…” Harry replied, wondering where he was going.

“Well, Fudge still wanted some form of Ministry presence in the school, as well as a few aurors at hand to try and arrest you if you came back, so Dumbledore, playing along, suggested he choose Kingsley as Dolores’ replacement.”

“That’s… kinda genius, actually.” Harry said. “Placates Fudge while getting a competent teacher that he trusts.”

“Well, while that’s all well and good, I do think we ought to discuss the other matter that is still relevant.” Luna chimed in.

“The Wand?”

“Why of course. It would be best to try and get it from him in public. Formidable though he may be, he would stick to non-lethal defenses, given your age and the possibility for civilian casualties.”

“That’s about what I was thinking Lue.”

“Additionally, we were considering using Hogsmeade as the grounds for which Harry would acquire the Elder Wand.” Blaise added on. “We’re already somewhat familiar with the location, which would be improved by some simple reconnaissance.”

Together the five of them began to slowly cobble together a plan, though they took a break to walk around the village itself, performing said reconnaissance under the guise of showing some friends around the village while they were vacationing in the UK.

When they went back to the Head they had finally decided on how the plan would go. Unfortunately, it involved one of the many things Harry considered his least favorite thing about the Wizarding World. Namely, animal abuse. More specifically, owl post. Which was why he was at the Roadhouse temporarily.

“Hey Ellen?”

“James! What d’ya need?”

“It’s kinda weird, but I need you to write out a letter.”

“Now what have you gone and gotten yourself into?” Ellen demanded.

“There’s this artifact I need, but the guy who has it is kinda OP, so I can’t just brute force him. Problem is, he knows what me and my co-conspirators handwriting looks like because I’m important to him and his co-conspirators, so mine are by association. Thus, you!”

Ellen’s response was a long-suffering sigh as she grabbed some paper and a pen, prompting Harry to say what she was going to write.

“To the White Bumblebee,

I understand that you are in search of a certain wizard who knows his way around a weapon, as well as one who knows his way around a cauldron and a fang. Your current search is fruitless, though I could help you out.

Meet me in front of the Shrieking Shack at noon on the dot in a week’s time.

Sincerely,

An Informative Occultist.”

After thanking Ellen, Harry slipped his necklace back on before appearing in front of the Leaky Cauldron, heading through to post off the letter before popping back to the Head.

“That is the letter dealt with.” Harry said, pretending to dust off his hands as he slid back into the booth.

“Well, now that we’ve done the housekeeping, as well letting you know how things have been on our end, what’s it been like over in the States?” Neville asked, picking up the butterbeer he had ordered in Harry’s absence.

“Well, we met the Winchesters. The sons, John died.” Harry said, clarifying.

“Which do you prefer?”

“Oh, Sam by far. I mean, Dean isn’t too bad, but he has a weird thing about trust and magic.”

“I rather agree. Though I would like to add that Hermione and Sam would get along like a house on fire.” Blaise added.

“Oh? Why do you say?”

“He went to Stanford for prelaw and is, quite possibly, one of the nerdiest people we’ve ever met.” Harry answered. “Anyway, obviously we’ve met Bobby in person now, he’s where we went first, we’ve met the Harvelle’s, they’re sorta the US version of Frank.”

“Frank is also American meraviglia.”

“You know what I mean. Anyway, we’ve gone sightseeing a little when we’ve had the time and, uh, that’s about everything, I think, right darl’?”

“I can’t think of anything else.”

“So yeah, things have been going-“ Harry began before feeling his phone vibrate. “Hang on, work call.”

Popping back to the motel he and Blaise were still renting, Harry pulled his phone out of his pocket, flipping it open and answering the call.

“Dean. Wasn’t expecting a call from you for a while.”

“Yeah, well, I need help.”

“What’re you hunting?” Harry asked, sighing as he did.

“A djinn. I found its lair, but it got me and I don’t know how to gank it.”

“Goddamnit. Listen, is anyone you know should be dead currently living?”

“Yeah, my mom.”

“You fucking idjit! Listen, you’re gonna have to get to wherever the djinn is and kill yourself. Nothing in the world you’re in is real. Absolutely nothing. To kill it you’ll need a silver knife dipped in lamb's blood.”

“Thanks Evans. And…” Dean said, hesitating before continuing. “About the whole name thing…”

“What?” Harry snapped.

“Sorry. Sammy’s been berating me about it. I’m just… not used to people who aren’t family, I guess. So… y’know, I won’t be prying.”

“It’s…” Harry sighed. “Don’t worry about it, Dean. Just… don’t die. Sam would be upset, and I don’t fancy doing necroturgy this early in my life.”

“I’ll do my best.” Dean replied, the call cutting out in the middle of his mirthless laugh.