Jon lay half-reclined on the marble, staring up.
For some reason the moon looked unusually clean and bright, the midsummer cicadas sounded almost musical, and even the dry air seemed to carry a faint sweetness.
He let out a quiet, irrepressible laugh. He could still see Astoria's shy, adorable expression in his mind.
So this is what happiness feels like?
He lay there a while longer, then lifted his right arm and checked his watch. Ten minutes left.
From Britain to Greece, a jump that long was safest by Portkey.
The trouble was, hastily made Portkeys were risky, so you filed an application in advance with the Department of Magical Transportation and let them schedule it. Ministry-timed Portkeys activated at a fixed moment; Transportation staff set the departure time and issued the item to the applicant.
Miss that exact time and the Portkey would head to Greece without you, and you would be back at the Department of Magical Transportation, petitioning for a new one.
Jon hopped down from the marble and started back the way he had come, following the flagstones and passing through the garden. He had one foot on the silver ladder and was easing through the trapdoor when Astoria came hurrying up.
There were still a few drops of water clinging to her face. The flush had mostly faded, but when she ran into him head-on she still turned her head away, shy.
"Ten minutes until we depart," Jon said as he jumped down from the ladder, keeping his voice low.
Astoria nodded, distracted, then tugged at his sleeve and asked, very serious, "Jon, what you said just now—was it true?"
"Of course," he answered without thinking. "Absolutely."
"Then… have you said the same thing to other girls?" she blurted, stumbling a little over the words. "Is that why you sounded so… practiced just now, with me?"
"How could I?" Jon smiled. "I just put my truest feelings and thoughts into the plainest words I could find. Truth is, except when I'm with you, I'm not much of a talker at all."
"Really?" She searched his eyes.
"Absolutely."
"Then I'll believe you for now." Astoria blinked, trying to hide the smile tugging at her mouth.
Jon checked his watch again.
"Seven minutes. The Portkey's about to go."
"Ah!" Astoria gave a little start. "Time's nearly up. I need to see how my sister's coming along. Jon, wait for me in the dining room."
"No, wait, hold on. Stay here for two minutes, then go to the dining room," she added quickly.
A few minutes later, in the dining room at Greengrass Manor—
"Astoria, why do I feel like you suddenly got a bit… odd?" Daphne Greengrass, a bulging pack already strapped to her back, studied her sister curiously.
"I'm fine. You're imagining things," Astoria said, turning away and pretending to bend for something.
"All set? We're leaving," Jon said as he stepped in from the hall.
"We're ready," Daphne replied evenly.
"Good." Jon spoke as he reached into his pocket and drew out a battered alarm clock.
Its case was rusted, the hour and minute hands were jammed together, and the second hand looked snapped in two. Left on a street, no Muggle would bother to pick it up.
"Just touch the Portkey with a finger," Jon said softly. "One finger is enough."
He set the clock on the dining table and pressed the tip of his left index finger to it.
The Greengrass sisters were no strangers to this way of traveling. They needed no prompting. Each pressed a fingertip to a side of the clock.
Jon glanced at his watch.
"Ready. Last minute. Thirty seconds. Three… two… one—"
On one, an invisible force shoved him from behind with irresistible strength. His feet left the floor. He was flying.
He could feel Astoria and Daphne on either side; their shoulders knocked into his.
His index finger was glued to the clock, as if it had a powerful magnet inside, drawing him on.
They shot forward like a gale. Everything blurred.
Long-distance Portkey travel never felt good. It crushed your stomach and left you queasy, and with a journey this long, it took a bit of time.
Three to five minutes passed, or perhaps half a year.
It ended.
Jon's feet slammed down hard. He just managed to keep his balance.
All around was pitch dark. He could see nothing.
"You all right?" Astoria called, her voice two or three yards straight ahead.
"Whoa—" Daphne lurched into him.
He grabbed her instinctively, steadying her.
At the same moment, something collided with his back.
It couldn't be either of his companions. Astoria had landed squarely in front of him, and Daphne was braced in his hands.
"Who's there…" A familiar voice sounded behind him, edged with fear and confusion.
"Lumos!" Daphne lifted her wand toward the voice.
Light flared, and a familiar face sprang into view.
"Harry Potter?" Daphne blurted.
It was. The person Jon had backed into was Harry Potter.
And he seemed to be alone.
"Harry?" Jon asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"
He took a look around the darkness and frowned. "And… where are we?"