Chapter 5 - The Flying Badger
Dear Ginny,
I hear you’re finally going back to school. I wish you were back with us, but congratulations anyway.
Things are pretty good at Hogwarts. The Dementors are gone, anyway. Unfortunately, so is Professor Lupin. Everybody here in Gryffindor misses him, but his replacement is also pretty cool. Malfoy tried to curse Harry from behind one time and Professor Moody turned him into a ferret and bounced him all over the place. Served him right, the rotten little git.
Classes are pretty much the same. Snape’s still creepy, McGonagall still doesn’t cut us any slack, and Trelawney’s just as clueless as she was before. And Hagrid’s still teaching Care of Magical Creatures. He has us caring for something he calls blast-ended Skrewts. They’re still babies and they’re already horrid. Hermione says we should stomp on them and be done with it, and for once, I agree with her. Yes, that's right, Hermione and I agree on something. Never thought that'd happen.
There’s also supposed to be something called the Triwizard Tournament here at school. Students from Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang will be competing for a 1000-galleon prize. I wish we could win it, but none of us are old enough to enter, not even Fred and George. But it should be really cool to watch. I’ll tell you more about that as it happens.
Harry’s here, and I’m sure he misses you too, though he’d never admit it. I’ll try to get him to drop you a line himself some time.
Your loving brother,
Ron
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Dear Ginny,
We heard you’re headed off to school again. Wish you were coming here, but at least you’ll get to learn magic. I expect Ickle Ronniekins has already told you about all the stuff going on here, the tournament, and our new teacher, and Malfoy’s ferret dance. So I won’t go over it all again. But we’ll try to keep you up to speed on our end.
One thing, though. Could you us a big favor. When you get to the States, find out what kind of magical gag items they have. We’re always looking for ideas for new Weasley Wizard Wheezes. And don’t tell Mum about it. She’ll have a cow. She still thinks we should join the Ministry, don’t ask us why.
We enclose a package with this, and it has a few special items in it. Might come in handy if those Yanks give you trouble. We hear they can be an unruly lot. Whatever you do, don’t show the package to Mum.
Good luck and have fun,
Fred and George
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Dear Ginny,
Ron told me that you’ve finally managed to get reinstated as a witch-in-training. I’m glad to hear that. I know you were really upset about being expelled. I got a peek at his letter, so I know the part about me missing you. Well, all right, I’ll admit it: I do miss you. So does Hermione, and all your brothers, and a lot of other Gryffindors as well. Please keep us up to date on what’s going on with you.
Your friend,
Harry Potter
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Professor Grayson had insisted on finishing his visits before taking Ginny back, and that had been fine with all of the Weasleys. It had given them time to scour Diagon Alley and the surrounding area for the few supplies that Ginny still needed, other than the books. Hogwarts and Silver Grove used the same Herbology text, as it was considered the definitive work on the subject. It was the same with Honor Gray’s text on magical combat: there were several copies of it in Hogwarts’ restricted section, but it seemed like they were always checked out. The other five books on the list were only available in America.
The extra time also gave Ginny the opportunity to write her brothers at Hogwarts, and allowed them enough time to send letters back (using Hedwig; Errol and Pig were not the speediest birds in the owlery). Even Harry had written a brief note, wishing her luck and asking her to write again. Reading the last, Ginny had felt her heart leap at the prospect, even though it was silly. Harry hadn’t even been interested in her when they were together, and they would soon be an ocean agart.
In addition to preparing, the delay gave them the opportunity to just spend time together. Molly especially needed that. She was still afraid for her daughter. Sending her children to Hogwarts had been one thing; she had been there herself. Only a fool would say that her alma mater was always entirely safe, but at least she had been able to tell Ginny what to watch out for at Hogwarts. She had heard that unknown dangers are always scarier than known ones, now she knew it to be true. And Ginny’s destination was not only unfamiliar, it was less than highly regarded.
But in her heart of hearts, Molly did know that Ginny had to seek her place in the world, and she could not do that by hiding in the Burrow. The big day had finally come, and Ginny and her parents were at the Portkey station with Professor Grayson, awaiting their turn. For the journey west, they had to use alternate transportation: Apparition was unreliable over long distances, and Ginny couldn’t do it anyway. And, no one wanted to ride a broom across the Atlantic.
“So, you’re not going to be taking a transatlantic portkey,” Arthur said. “Why is that?”
“Too expensive, and they run too infrequently,” Professor Grayson explained. “The amount of power needed to produce a portkey is a fourth-power function of the distance covered, modified by. . . .” He stopped as he saw Arthur’s look of confusion. “Look, it takes a lot of magical power and time to enchant long-distance keys, so they charge a lot of Galleons for the privilege of using one. Given the amount of travelling I do, it’s more economical to just use the Nexi.”
“What are Nexi?” Ginny asked.
“It’s something the Americans set up back during the war against Grindelwald,” Arthur explained. “And they rarely allow anyone who isn’t American to use it. It’s kind of a system of gateways in midair,” Arthur explained. “Like portkeys, but they don’t just work at one time. You can fly a broom through the one over near Scotland, and reappear in, oh, I don’t know, let’s say. . . Germany. Instantly.”
“Not quite,” Professor Grayson explained. “You have to travel through the Hebridian Island Nexus, which takes you to the central Nexus Hub in Florida. Then, you pass through another one, which will send you to Germany, or Canada, or wherever else you want to go.”
“I’ve heard the Nexi are quite dangerous,” Arthur said.
“For those who aren’t authorized to use them, they’re a deathtrap, pure and simple,” Professor Grayson said. “An unauthorized traveler is diverted automatically to a point 1,000 miles below the earth’s surface, where he winds up in the earth’s mantle, which is a sea of seething-hot magma under millions of tons of pressure. He gets quickly sizzled up like a sausage. That’s happened to Muggle ships and aircraft as well, more times than we would have liked. Even they’ve noticed the phenomenon; that’s why they have their own name for the hub area.” He smoothed his hair, which was even more startling in the early morning sunlight. “They call it the Bermuda Triangle.”
“Portkey to Hebridian Island Nexus, departing in thirty seconds,” the attendant said. Professor Grayson and the Weasleys, dragging Ginny’s trunk, hurried over to the Departure pad.
“But you’re authorized, right?” Ginny said as she gripped the old wine bottle that was their transportation.
“Yeah, and it cost me a fortune to get that way. Especially since I don’t use a broom. Haven’t even owned one since my Quidditch days.”
“What do you use to fl. . . ?” Ginny began to ask, but before she could even finish (let alone get an answer), she was jerked through space and knocked sprawling in the middle of a grassy field. Looking around to regain her bearings, she saw that the others were still standing. She was still a bit unaccustomed to Portkeys.
As Ginny rose to her feet and the two Weasleys looked around, Professor Grayson resolutely strode about fifteen paces northward, made a few calculations, and then waved his wand. “Apparecio!”
And something appeared where there had been nothing but flowers and weeds a moment before, a bizarre contraption that could only have been designed by a Muggle (and not a sane one, Ginny thought): a mad conglomeration of wheels on the bottom, flattish table-like structures on the sides, a glass bubble on the top, and what looked like fan blades on the front. And it was painted yellow and black all over.
Arthur was so ecstatic, he could barely avoid jumping up and down. “This. . . is this one of those Muggle things? An arrow planie?”
“We call it an airplane,” Professor Grayson said. “And not just an airplane, but a P-51 Mustang. The finest warplane of the 1940's.”
“Mustang, huh? American-built, right?” Arthur was eagerly examining the odd flying machine.
“Actually, it was a collaboration between our two countries. A corporation called North American developed the plane, but the Allison engine they put in it was crap. I took a British engine, the supercharged Rolls-Royce Merlin, to make it the legend that it was.” He patted the thing affectionately. “This one has a few modifications, most notably the passenger seat and the cargo hold.”
"Any magical enhancements?" Arthur wanted to know.
"No. I regularly fly it in Muggle-controlled areas. You know the rules."
Ginny noticed the picture near the nose of the flying machine, a stylized badger with blood-red eyes and much larger and sharper claws and teeth than the actual animal undoubtedly had. She read what was written above it. “The Flying Badger? Is that what you call this thing?”
Professor Grayson grinned. “Yup. Once a Hufflepuff, always a Hufflepuff.” Without bothering to resort to magic, he hoisted Ginny’s trunk into the cargo compartment. He did it nearly without effort, which was unusual, considering that the thing weighed almost as much as she did. Physical strength was not a common attrbute among wizards. There was just little need for it: why lift an object when you could levitate it?
The time had finally come. Ginny turned to her parents. “Mum, Dad,” she said. Her voice quavered, and she could say no more.
Molly gathered her youngest child to her and fiercely hugged her. “I know, dear, I know. You take care of yourself, child. You hear me?”
“By, honey,” Arthur said, giving her a kiss. “I love you. And I want you to write to me. Tell me what it was like, riding in that. . . hare-plane?”
“Airplane,” the professor said patiently. Despite the sadness of the moment, Ginny couldn’t help giggling.
“Oh, I almost forgot,” Arthur said. “Dumbledore sent this over last night when heard you had decided to go. Said you might have use for it.” He handed her a small, long parcel.
Ginny opened it, and her eyes went wide. “My wand! But how. . . .”
Professor Grayson smirked. “I can tell you that; Dumbledore told me. He substituted your wand for one that was already snapped in two. Old broken wands are not hard to find.”
“I know, my youngest son broke one last year,” Molly commented. “If we hadn’t won the Ministry sweepstakes that summer, we’d never have managed to afford a replacement.”
Ginny gave each of her parents a last hug, promised to write as soon as she could, and then darted up the ladder and sat in the passenger comprtment. Professor Grayson explained to her how to strap herself in. Then, he did something with the controls, and the thing on the front (a propeller, the professor called it) began to spin, slowly at first, then faster, and then it was a blur. The Flying Badger rolled bumpily along the ground, faster, faster, and then (just as Ginny was sure it was going to flip over and scatter bits of itself and its passengers across the landscape) shot skyward.
Ginny looked back and saw her parents dwindling behind her. They were standing together, her father’s arm around her mother, both of them waving with their free hands. Tears sprang into her eyes despite her resolve. If Professor Grayson saw, he pretended not to notice, and she was grateful for that.
As the plane leveled out, Professor Grayson spoke. “We hit the Nexus in two minutes. You may want to close your eyes when we get there. Keeping them open may make you violently nauseous, and I really don’t think you want to arrive at your new school with puke on your clothes.”
“I don’t suppose we could’ve taken brooms instead,” said Ginny,
“I could,” Professor Grayson said. “You, on the other hand, are not American, and do not have permission to use the Nexi. The only way you can pass through is to be inside a completely enclosed vehicle, like this one, that does have permission. Unless you want to take a swim in the world’s biggest lava lamp.”
“So you’re an American citizen now?”
“Well, actually, I hold what’s called dual citizenship. That I’m still British, but American, too.”
“Ah,” Ginny said. Ahead, she saw what looked like a ring of unearthly purplish light in the sky, pulsating alternately brighter and dimmer and coming up fast. “Is that it?”
“That’s the target!” The professor did something, and the airplane tilted and headed directly for the luminescent ring. “Five seconds! Hang on!”
Ginny had meant to close her eyes, but wasn’t quick enough, so she saw the universe stretch, distort, and itself turn inside out. Her breakfast did violent acrobatics in her stomach, but thankfully stayed where it belonged. She risked another peek a few seconds later, but there was only darkness ahead. “Are we still inside it?”
“Nope. We’re in the Hub, just off the coast of Florida.”
Ginny looked closer. The darkness was interspersed with glowing rings of a wide spectrum of colors: yellow, tan, dark red, yellow-orange, the fuschia of Professor Grayson’s hair, and at least fifty others. All were pulsating brighter and dimmer in the exact same rhythm. “Oh. But it’s so dark.”
The professor laughed. “Local time is 3:45 AM; that’s why it’s dark. Doesn’t your watch have a Timekeeping spell on it?”
“Of course.” Ginny checked her watch. Sure enough, it had adjusted itself automatically.
“Now we just find the Nexus for the Midwest,” muttered Professor Grayson. “There it is. The aqua one up ahead.” Expertly, he whipped the plane around and pointed its nose squarely at the glowing fissure in space. “Fifteen seconds, stand by.”