Hermione wished the dreadful spinning would stop already. Luckily she didn’t feel nauseous as it seemed as her stomach had disappeared entirely. The only sensation she had was Ron’s sweaty hand clasped in her own.
She fell to the floor with a painful flump: the journey was over. She opened her eyes slowly, taking in the look of concern on Ron’s face. “Next time we travel to the other side of the world,” Hermione said weakly, “we’re taking an airplane.”
Ron looked slightly alarmed at this information, but he had been the one who had managed to land on his feet after the inter-continental Portkey. She swore that the device should have some sort of safety harness
, but decided it would be impossible to incorporate.
looking official came towards them to go over their wands with a Secrecy Sensor. When he pronounced them clear, Hermione and Ron thought they would be free to go, but they were sadly mistaken. They remained rooted to the spot as pamphlets and brochures were speedily passed into their hands.
The last thing they received was a large map. The title read: Your Magnificent Guide to Magical Melbourne.
After that, they were ushered past the magical barrier that lead to a busy Muggle street.
Ron shuffled through the parchments in his arms. “The Victorian
Ministry of Magic is insane
! We’re not going to have time for all this sightseeing!”
Hermione looked longingly at one of the brochures, which proudly proclaimed the opening hours of some Ned Kelly Museum. “Ned Kelly was a wizard?” she asked in surprise. “Who knew?”
“Hermione,” Ron said sharply, “we’re here to find your parents, remember? There’ll be time to infuse
yourself with Australian culture later. Do you still have their address?”
“Of course I do, Ron,” Hermione snapped, putting the brochures in her pocket and withdrawing a smaller piece of parchment. “It’s right here.”
“Is it safe to chuck these out?” Ron asked, still holding his tourist information.
Hermione glanced at it. “I think so. The entrance to the Victorian Ministry’s on a busy Muggle street. There’s nothing obviously magical about them, but they’re on parchment…”
Ron shrugged and threw his parchments in the bin. Hermione pursed her lips and did not follow suit.
“Why didn’t you bring the cat
?” Ron asked.
Hermione glared at him. “The cat’s name is Crookshanks, and he wouldn’t have appreciated the journey. Why do you want to know all of a sudden, anyway?”
Ron looked slightly miffed. “I was just trying to show that I care.”
“You chose the completely wrong way to go about it!” Hermione yelled as a tram trundled past them, ringing its bell. The noise shocked her out of her ranting.
“I thought we were meant to ride that…thing
…to get to your parents’ house.” He pointed to the tram.
“We can wait for the next one,” Hermione said, sitting down. “It’s not as if my parents are waiting for me. They don’t even remember my name.”