Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

Chapter 27

"In some ways I envy you, Harry," Hermione said.

Harry looked at her, having to squint into the wind even with his glasses to do so. They were currently leaning on the rail of the ferry that was taking them back from Liberty Island. It'd been a brilliant day for them both, one of their last together before Hermione's holiday would come to an end. They'd spent it travelling on ferries around the bay before stopping to see New York's most famous monument. Now, they were heading home, the sun slowly sinking behind them.

Hermione was staring at the city, the tie that held her ponytail doing very little to keep her long brown hair from flying about in the wind.

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

She looked at him them and her eyes held something that he couldn't quite identify. There was a hint of sadness, of wistfulness, of pride and something else.

"You've been following your dreams, Harry," she said. "Ever since you left Britain, you've been following your heart, living life on your terms and getting out of it exactly what you want. And now … now you've begun settling down and again you're doing it your way. You're doing what you want, living in a place that you love and even have a job that you enjoy."

"It'd be pretty silly to start a business doing something that you didn't enjoy, Hermione," he smiled.

"True, but how many people are doing exactly what they want to do?" she asked.

"You, Luna and Neville from what you've told me," he replied.

She shrugged, vaguely conceding the point.

"Come on, you know it's true!" Harry countered. "Neville is immersed in his plants; Luna is still having fun looking for crumple-horned snorkacks and nargles and what have you. And as for you, I've heard how proud you are of the work you're doing for the Ministry. Yes, I think that you're putting in far too many hours and forgetting to take some Hermione time, but you are doing what you enjoy – researching and making life better for others. Everyone's different, Hermione; we can all find our happiness in our own different ways."

She bumped shoulders with him, smiling up into his face.

"And just when did you get to be so smart?" she asked.

"I've been to a lot of places and visited a lot of cultures; something was bound to rub off somewhere along the line," he replied.

"I just wish that you'd found somewhere different to finally find your happiness," she said after they'd stopped laughing.

Harry raised a quizzical eyebrow at her.

"Even you have to admit it: it's not exactly safe here is it?" she stated. "I've followed the news since you've been here, Harry and New York has had some crazy stuff happen. Robots blowing up one suburb; two giant unidentified monsters flattening another; all the strange crime starting to emerge. There was even some speculation about some masked vigilante in some place called Hell's Kitchen on the television the other night."

Harry shrugged, not sure what to say to that.

"And then there's you, Harry. You and your saving people complex," she added. "You know what happened the other day and if I thought that would be the last time you'd do it; I'd be lying to myself. It's who you are, Harry Potter. A good man who can't help but look out for people in danger, for those who need saving."

"I can't stop being me, Hermione," Harry told her. "Besides, a little good every now and again isn't a bad thing."

"No, Harry, it's not. And I'd never want you to be anything but the man that you are," she smiled. "Just promise me one thing."

"You know I'd do anything for you, Hermione," he smiled.

"Be safe. Help others if you have to, but do it safely. I've seen you hurt more times than I ever want to. I don't want my next trip out here to be because you got yourself in some sort of trouble that you couldn't get yourself out of," she told him.

"Really, Hermione? You want me to stay out of trouble?" he leaned in, then, to ensure that they couldn't be overheard. "Isn't that like asking a dragon not to breath fire?"

ooo00ooo

The big board told the story and it wasn't one that the two under it were all that impressed about. When one read the fourth line down, the one that said 'JFK to London Now Boarding', it didn't produce a happy feeling.

"I'm going to miss you," Harry said. "I've enjoyed the last couple of weeks."

"Me, too, Harry. It feels like we've almost caught up and now it's time to leave," she agreed.

"Guess you'll just have to come back again soon," he stated.

"And why should I be the one to have to fly back over here?" she asked with a raised eyebrow. "You could come for a visit, too, you know. Britain is still your home and there's a lot more than just me that would love to see you and spend time with you."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe. One day," he temporised.

"It's been nearly six years, Harry, I think you can safely walk down Diagon Alley without getting mobbed," she reasoned.

This time it was Harry's turn to raise an eyebrow.

"They even know who I am over here, Hermione," he told her. "The-Boy-Who-Lived or The Chosen One or The-Man-Who-Conquered or whatever stupid name they're calling me now is still huge over there. And I've never wanted fame. I just want to do my bit and live my life."

He sighed, seeing her downcast expression.

"But for you, I'll … I'll make an effort. It may not be anytime soon, but I'll visit. Promise."

A huge smile broke out across her face and she threw herself into his arms.

"Thank you, Harry," she whispered into his ear.

"Final boarding call for British Airways Flight one seven eight," a near-muffled voice announced. "Please have your boarding passes ready."

"Time to go, Hermione," Harry said, releasing her and pushing her back slightly. "Take care of yourself."

"I will, Harry, you too," she leaned in and kissed his cheek before meeting his eyes. "Write. And don't forget your promise."

Then, with one last squeeze of his hand, she grabbed her luggage and stepped up to the gate. One final wave later and she'd disappeared into the tunnel.

Harry stayed until the plane had finally pulled away from the terminal, taxied to the runway and then taken off.

His promise. He wasn't sure exactly which one she was referring to – the one to visit her in Britain or the one to stay out of trouble. Either way, he'd do his best to fulfil them.

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