Bound

France - part 1

It was Thursday evening. The Grangers had already packed everything into four large suitcases and two backpacks. Jean and Hermione also had their ladies’ handbags ready. Dave called the youngsters for a chat.

“We’ve already talked about it, but I want to make sure everything is perfectly clear,” he started.

Seeing them both nodding, he continued: “We’re going to be in muggle areas, where the age of consent is sixteen or seventeen. Everybody who sees you should not suspect you are anything but good friends. Is that clear?”

“Yes, dad,” they said in unison.

“Good. Now about sleeping arrangements. In Nice and in Paris we’re going to have two-bedroom suits. Your bedroom will have two single beds. Use them both if you don’t want to attract undue attention.”

Both nodded.

“As for the rest – we shall use a two-room tent, like we’ve always done. There’s only a thin cloth wall separating the two rooms. I don’t want to hear any suspect noises.”

“You mean the kind of noises I’ve been hearing every night during previous summer vacations?” Hermione asked innocently.

Dave blushed deep crimson. “Well, you should have told us you weren’t asleep... but... yes, I mean that kind of noises, especially since they can be heard outside the tent as well.”

“We can use silencing charms. We can even cast them on your side of the tent if you want,” Hermione said, still looking extremely innocent.

Dave wasn’t sure what to say at first. “Well, it may be a good idea,” he finally said.

“Now, Harry, you’ve already heard about the places we like to stay at during our vacation, I believe.”

Harry nodded solemnly.

“We shall all be naked there. You may stare as much as you like, but it is strictly forbidden to act in any way that is considered inappropriate when wearing cloth. Any s****l activity, even between adults, is to be carried in privacy. If some of the ladies excite you, it would be safer to hide the physical manifestations of that excitement by either lying on your stomach, using a towel, going into deeper water or any other similar act. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir, but I don’t think anybody can excite me while Hermione is near me. She’s all that I’ll ever want, you know.”

Dave smiled at the serious tone. Although he knew Harry was now a married man, he still looked like a child. Hearing such a declaration from him was somewhat amusing, actually.

“Well, I’m glad we all understand each other. Now, off to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

They took a taxi to the airport. The weekend traffic was quite heavy, with many others starting their vacations that day. They then had to endure the long lines at check-in and passport control. Once out of the queues, they still had another hour of waiting before boarding the plane. Jean thought it was a good time to introduce her daughter to the wonders of modern cosmetics while Harry and Dave went into an electronics shop.

Harry had a good time checking all the wonderful equipment there. He knew nothing would probably work at Hogwarts, but he couldn’t resist buying an MP3 player, preloaded with a variety of love songs and dance music. When they left the shop, after spending there more than half an hour, Dave commented: “I see you no longer have to hold hands most of the time.”

Harry blushed a bit. He knew that Dave had already known and approved of his relationship with Hermione, yet it was still a sensitive subject. “Well, sir, we no longer need it since we got more... intimate.”

Dave smiled. “Don’t ‘sir’ me, please, even if you find the subject somewhat embarrassing. I’m just glad it went so smoothly. I don’t think Hermione will let you rest very much during this vacation, though,” he teased the boy.

Harry just blushed a bit more but said nothing.

“You should be ready for this. Dad will continue teasing us for a long time. Don’t be offended, though. It’s just his way to deal with this unexpected situation,” Hermione told him later.

Harry’s excitement mounted as they boarded. It was his first time on a plane, his first time flying the muggle way. Hermione let him sit at the window, knowing he would be fascinated, although she liked sitting there herself. She could still see everything through his eyes and she could also sense his excitement, which was more than appropriate reward for her little sacrifice. She was not disappointed. Harry was glued to the window throughout the flight, not even noticing the snacks and refreshment served. He was also fascinated by the landing, being able to see some aspects of the flight which his excitement didn’t allow him to notice at take-off.

It was early afternoon by the time they reached their hotel. Dave drove the rented car – he had chosen one big enough to accommodate all their luggage with room to spare, and parked it at the hotel. A bell-boy loaded their luggage on a cart and took it to their suit while Dave was finishing the check-in procedure. Dave made sure Harry was aware of each part of the procedure, including the tips. “You should learn to deal with such situations, considering your standing in your society,” he told Harry. “It’s my duty as your guardian to prepare you for your future role in life.” Harry could notice the seriousness with which Dave handled his guardian duties.

They didn’t stay long in their suit; just long enough to wash their faces and refresh Jean’s makeup. Soon they were walking the streets, enjoying the warmth, the free atmosphere and (for the males) the scantly dressed young women.

“I think there’s a magical quarter here,” Hermione suddenly said.

“What makes you say so?” inquired Jean.

“Do you see that shop between the Boulangerie and the chemist?”

“I only see a stretch of blank, white painted wall.” Jean told her.

Harry saw a small shop with a sparkling wine-glass and a wand over its door.

“Let’s go!” Hermione said. Grabbing her parents’ hands. They followed reluctantly.

“Bonjour Medames, Monsieurs. Puis-je vous aider?” (“Good day ladies and gentlemen. May I help you?”) the shopkeeper asked.

It looked like a wine-boutique, although no customers could be seen and just a few bottles.

“Nous sommes touristes. Ia’t il un quartier magique par ici?” (“We’re tourists. Is there a magical quarter here?”) Hermione asked. Harry was surprised he could understand it well. On second thought – he shouldn’t have been.

“Oh, you’re English! Yes, we have a magical quarter here. Just go to the end of the shop and into what looks like a large refrigerator’s door. Enjoy your stay!” The welcome was spoken with a heavy French accent, but was quite clear.

They followed the instructions and found themselves walking into a French version of Diagon Alley. The shops were quite similar, including a white marble Gringotts branch, which was less imposing than it’s London counterpart. On the other hand, the people on the street were completely different. Nobody was wearing robes, although some seemed to be wearing quite old-fashioned clothes. The younger people were wearing normal muggle clothing, including short trousers, sleeveless shirts, miniskirts and skimpy tops. Only the wands peeking out of pockets or dedicated holsters indicated these were actually magical people.

Harry was attracted to a shop displaying travel gear in its window. There was a tent there which looked very nice. The notice attached gave some more information in several languages: “Four bedrooms, living room, kitchen with supplies for five years, two bathrooms, a separate toilet. Easily collapsible into a small packet.” An arrow directed his gaze to a cloth packet the size of a man’s purse.

“Can we have a look in here?” he asked the adults.

“Go ahead! It’s your vacation, isn’t it?” Dave told him.

Hermione did most of the talking there. They were shown several magical tents, some as large inside as a small manor, yet all presenting the same humble exterior. They finally decided to buy a tent with only two bedrooms, but still having two bathrooms as well. The adult Grangers kept their mouths shut while visiting these tents. It was unbelievable, seeing what magic could do.

Harry was somewhat reluctant about the payment, though. “I don’t have enough money with me,” he told the shopkeeper. “I can just cross the street and take some more from the bank.”

“You can relax, lad. We accept muggle money and credit cards, and you can use your wand to approve a fund transfer. Being located at a tourist center requires some flexibility on our part, you should know.”

“I think wand-transfer would be nice, thank you,” Harry replied.

The shopkeeper took a piece of parchment which was already printed, wrote the tent’s price at the provided space and showed it to Harry. “The bank will probably charge you a small fee as well, unless you are a high-profile customer. Now, just tap your wand here, please.”

Harry tapped the large X at the bottom of the form. His signature appeared there magically, along with his account number. The shopkeeper looked at it approvingly and handed it to Harry. “It’s approved. This is your copy. Keep it for warranty service, although I doubt you may need it. The warranty is for ten years from the date of purchase.”

He handed Harry the collapsed tent, which Hermione put into her small handbag with no problem. “Enjoy your stay, sir,” he added. Harry noticed the change from “lad” to “sir” was initiated by the name appearing on the parchment. He wasn’t famous in Britain only, so it seemed.

They ended their stroll by dining at a very posh restaurant in the muggle part of the city and retired early to bed. “We still have a few hours driving tomorrow before we reach our first destination, so don’t sleep late,” Dave reminded the Potters.

It was really a long drive, but once they reached there, Harry immediately thought it was worth it. The camping site that they reached was located in a beautiful secluded bay with a golden sandy beach, palm trees and clear water. It also included a large swimming pool, some areas for sports and games, nice common bathrooms and shaded plots for tents or mobile homes.

Dave took his tent out of the trunk of the car and started erecting it. Despite it being a very modern and easy to use tent, it took the four of them almost an hour before they could place the mats in and declare the tent ready for use.

Harry asked Dave to move the car, so it would hide the remaining area of their allotted plot. He then took his tent from Hermione’s bag, positioned it on the ground where he wanted its center to be and tapped it with his wand, saying “enlarge”. It only took a few seconds for the tent to reach its normal size and be ready for use. It looked much smaller compared to the Granger’s tent. A casual passer-by would only think it was made for the children to play when the adults wanted their peace.

They went in to check it. The entry hall was almost as large as the whole family-tent. A normal size kitchen was located at its right, with fully equipped larder, a large freezer, filled to the brim, and just as large a refrigerator. A cooking stove, a toaster and an unexpected microwave oven completed the set. Harry checked the cupboards. They had all the cutlery and utensils one may need for preparing food and for serving up to eight people at once.

The bedrooms had king-sized beds each, with attached bathrooms the same size they had in their hotel suit. Harry could see Dave’s reluctance to admit he’d rather sleep on one of these beds than on the mattress he had put into his tent.

Jean had no doubt. “May we use your spare bedroom? It looks much more comfortable than our tent.”

“You’re welcome to use it. The shopkeeper assured me that the rooms are sound-proof. Whatever noise is made in them would not be heard anywhere else,” Harry told her, keeping a straight face. Jean only smiled her thanks, knowing that she would use this knowledge in quite the same way as the younger couple.

“Would anybody fancy a dip in the sea now?” Dave asked.

They were soon running naked on the sand, enjoying total freedom. After a short dip in the warm water, they all put some sun-lotion on, knowing too well the dangers of overexposure to sun radiation.

Hermione decided to give Harry some swimming lessons. Unlike other subjects, this needed some experience to gain proficiency, yet relying on her memory, Harry learned to swim in just a few minutes. They then raced to a small rock at the middle of the bay and back again. Harry’s stronger muscles were a good match to Hermione’s better technique, ending both races in a tie. They fell exhausted on their beach-towels and let the sun and the light breeze dry their skins and soothe their muscles.

The beach, although not crowded, was far from empty. They all found some new friends and some old ones, in the case of the parents, quite soon. A German boy and an Italian girl roughly their age were glad to make friends with Harry and Hermione. The boy was quite nice and spoke English with a heavy accent. His round face reminded Harry of Dudley, or of how Dudley could have been had he been properly raised. He was glad to meet the English children and somewhat sad for having to leave the next day. The girl spoke very little English, yet her French was more than passable. She was Harry’s age, yet she looked older due to her very feminine curves and her large chest, which Harry enjoyed looking at, if only to tease Hermione a bit.

None of their new friends was shy about nudity, making Harry lose what was left of his shyness all the same. He chuckled internally thinking of Dudley’s reaction to present company.