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T r i p p i n: Britain's Best and Brightest by Serendipiti3

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 3,225
Status: WIP

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Strong Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature

Genres: Romance, Humor
Characters: Draco, Harry, Hermione

First Published: 09/14/2005
Last Chapter: 09/14/2005
Last Updated: 09/14/2005


What happens when seven of the wizarding world's best and brightest are stuck together in a hit reality show about traveling the world? Surely nothing involving fistfights, hangovers, and...strip mahjong??? Read to find out! HBP spoilers. DHr, HG

Chapter 1: Prologue
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DISCLAIMER: I’m tired of writing witty disclaimers so I’ll just get to the point: I don’t own any Harry Potter characters or their canon-based history. Anything you don’t recognize from the books is the result of my over-active imagination. I also don’t own The Real World, Trippin, or MTV. Although, I wish I do own Pimp My Flight which I got from the PotterPuff blog (so cute!).

Prologue: Owl Posts

Malfoy Manor

Draco stepped into the marble shower and twisted the pure-gold faucet, stifling a humongous yawn and rubbing at his dull gray eyes blearily. The warm water hit his sleep-induced face deliciously and plastered his soft blond locks to his forehead. After a while, he turned around and sighed as the water pounded on his sore back muscles. He could feel the rhythmic beating of the water jolting him slowly awake so that by the time he was done showering, his stormy gray eyes glittered to life with the shine of new sickles.

He wrapped a clean white towel around his bottom half and walked towards the marble counter where his toothbrush, razor, shaving cream, and aftershave were already laid out next to the sink. Draco went about his usual morning regime, taking his sweet time, and patted his face with a towel once he was done. That took all of one hour, including the shower he took. His mother often jested that he took longer primping in the bathroom than she did. Of course, Draco dismissed that concept as utter nonsense; his mother had longer hair after all.

Speaking of his hair, Draco frowned slightly at his reflection. It seemed as if his hair was slightly getting a bit long for his taste. Scowling, Draco picked up his wand and gave himself a trim. He hated it when his hair took up a mind of their own and grew too long; it reminded him too much of Lucius.

When he reached his vast room with its wrought-iron, four-poster bed, Draco found that his outfit for the day were already laid out for him on the silk, green sheets. It seemed the house-elves knew his schedule as well as he did. He lazily put on the impeccable black robes and checked his reflection in the full-length mirror once he was finished dressing. Satisfied with his appearance as always, Draco left his room and headed downstairs for breakfast.

“Good morning, Mother,” he greeted coolly as he strutted into the vast dining room. Narcissa Malfoy looked up from the Parisian fashion magazine she was reading and smiled at her only son warmly. After their loss, he paid closer attention to his mother’s well-being. When news of Lucius’ death reached them shortly after Draco’s twentieth birthday, Narcissa turned into a complete wreck. She was literally a living-breathing mound of snot and tears and was forced to lock herself in her room for months on end. Thankfully, after some expensive sessions with a therapist and numerous spa weekends, Narcissa seemed to be overcoming her grief day by day.

“Hello, dear,” his mother replied as he leaned over and pecked her cheek lightly. “You’re up awfully early this morning.”

Draco moved towards his own seat and scowled as he noticed a prominent pile of letters stacked beside his silverware. “Yes, I have a meeting with the board of advisors,” he drawled as he lazily flicked through the daily mail. They were mostly personal letters since the ones containing bills and payments were usually handled at the office.

He was just about to set them aside and go through them later when a glossy shade of silver peeked out behind all the other envelopes. His initial reaction to it was to gag but since Malfoys don’t gag, he settled on scowling instead.

Noticing her son’s sudden change in mood, Narcissa looked across the table at the silver envelope in his hands and a light bulb immediately lit up in her head. “Pansy again?” she asked him, gesturing to the gaudy silver envelope. She was clearly referring to the tacky letters that that wench sent him on a weekly basis.

Draco merely grunted in response and yanked the seal off the back viciously. Ever since he started piecing his life together again after his father’s death and started his own broomstick empire, Pansy’s gold-digging radar went completely haywire, and before he could say ‘sod off, pug-face’ she was clawing her way back into Draco’s life with twice the motivation. To think that he actually considered marrying Pansy when he was still the naive, little, sixth-year Slytherin back at Hogwarts. That notion went out the window when the little tart dropped him like a hot potato once he became the wizarding world’s social pariah after Dumbledore’s death. He actually felt a bit sorry for her to think that he would ever consider being with her again. When that happens, pigs shall fly and hell will freeze over but not before Draco committed suicide.

Relief flooded through him when he pulled out the contents of the envelope and realized that they weren’t the usual perfume-soaked letters declaring Pansy’s love for him and brazen attempts at a date. However, the relief was quickly replaced by confusion as Draco’s eyebrows furrowed together in concentration. His bright gray eyes skimmed over the first few lines of the letter. What in Merlin’s name...

Oh yes, it was definitely not Pansy.


The Penthouse of the Grand Royale Hotel

Hermione poured herself a steaming-hot cup of coffee as she hummed quietly to herself. Mornings were her favorite time of day since it made everything seem calmer and clearer in her eyes. When she was in Hogwarts the scratching of her quill used to drive Lavender and Parvati crazy whenever she proofread her essays in the morning. For some reason, the early morning light made it easier for her to fix all the mistakes she made on the parchment. That habit stayed with her until now and, sure enough, there was already a neat portfolio waiting to be looked over on the dining table.

She filled the cup to the brim before setting the coffee pot gently on the stainless steel counter with the Granger Appliances logo proudly facing her. Hermione always felt a small rush of pride at the sight of her own company’s logo. It made sense since it took her a fairly long amount of time to produce her own line of magical home appliances. Most of the time her experiments were rather dangerous, too. Mixing magic with Muggle technology was no easy feat, that was for sure. But Hermione had found it incredibly fascinating, and she owed her success to Mr. Weasley. If it wasn’t for his flying Ford Anglia, the idea would never have struck her in the first place.

At the thought of the Weasleys, a small smile played on the corners of her lips. Ever since sixth year, she and Ron have pursued a serious romantic relationship at last. There were the occasional fights and breaks here and there, but nothing’s ever perfect and Hermione was well aware of that. Right now, though, she was just fairly content with her on-again status with Ron.

Jolted from her thoughts by the gentle tapping of the Daily Prophet owl, Hermione let the owl in and deposited a Knut into the little leather pouch tied around the owl’s leg. She was just about to close her window with the day’s copy of the Daily Prophet safely tucked under her arm when another flying owl seemed to approach her window at an alarming pace. Slightly surprised, Hermione jumped aside just in time for the owl to soar through the open window and drop a heavy silver envelope onto her kitchen counter.

She forgot all about the open kitchen window as she tentatively approached the immobile silver envelope. It looked strange lying there against the polished metal surface of the counter. Still with great caution, Hermione gently lifted the envelope from the table and tore the seal at the back, unearthing two pieces of white parchment and a gleaming silver booklet.

After realizing that it wasn’t going to blow up in her face, Hermione picked up the topmost parchment and began to read it curiously. Pretty soon, her chocolate-brown eyes grew wider and wider with each word...


Number 12 Grimmauld Place

Harry Potter groaned in frustration as he hurled a crumpled piece of parchment across the dimly-lit room. The innocent object bounced against the opposite wall and landed on top of a growing pile of discarded parchment. Sighing, Harry took off his glasses and slowly rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. At the age of twenty five, he was still bespectacled, messy-haired, and had a never-ending list of things to do permanently attached to his brain. When he was younger, Harry expected that Voldemort’s death would make everything easier for him. After all, it was Voldemort’s fault that he was always caught in life-threatening situations all throughout his years at Hogwarts. Obviously, he was just kidding himself back then since Harry was now swamped with work more than ever.

After defeating Voldemort at the tender age of eighteen, Harry was automatically bombarded with even more fame and dubbed as Britain’s Wizarding Hero. All of a sudden, his face was plastered all over wizarding London on store windows and humongous billboards. It was terribly disconcerting for him since whenever Harry paid a visit to Diagon Alley his own face would look back at him from all angles, nervously smoothing his uncontrollable hair with a sheepish grin on his face. The makers of the Firebolt even made a whole new line of racing brooms in honor of him: the Lightning Bolt series. Heck, he even had his own brand of water! Poor Harry was forced to be under house arrest for months afterwards to grasp to whatever sanity he had left and also to avoid the pesky tabloid reporters that constantly hounded him.

Once things died down a bit, Harry decided to start a career as an auror and assume a normal life. It was a no brainer that he was immediately given an auror position at the Ministry. Harry wasn’t even required to take auror training after all the experience he had with Voldemort and the Death Eaters. He’s been battling evil since he was eleven, for Merlin’s sake! But of course, no matter how hard he tried, Harry Potter could never have a normal life. It was just not written in the stars for him.

Even though Voldemort was gone, there were still plenty of dangerous Death Eaters to catch, including the infamous Severus Snape. As an auror, Harry would be thrown into danger’s path at least three times a week as he tracked and hunted down Voldemort’s remaining followers. But luck was always on Harry’s side and he managed to escape death each and every time.

On a lighter note, Harry’s love life was thriving and was as normal as it could get. He was back with Ginny and his love for her grew more and more each day. Two years ago, Ginny had moved into Grimmauld’s Place with him and, even though Ron was definitely against this arrangement, the past two years were absolute heaven for Harry. Ginny made him happy and, most importantly, she gave him hope for a normal future. When he was with her, everything just seemed to fade away and nothing else mattered except for the love they had for each other. When he was with Ginny, Harry was actually able to lead a semi-normal life.

But if only things would remain that way.
For instance, right now all Harry wanted to do was give up and go to sleep. It was close to four in the morning and he was still unable to come up with a foolproof strategy to capture Snape. It’s been a month since he heard the news that Severus Snape was getting stronger each day and recruiting his own followers. For the first couple of weeks, Harry could actually feel the hatred and determination coursing in his blood. But now, after a month of absolute stress and empty searches, the determination was gone and replaced by none other than pure fatigue. On the other hand, his hatred towards his former Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts professor increased tenfold.

Yawning widely, Harry stretched out in his high-backed leather armchair and eyed the tottering piles of old records and files heaped on the desk. Just looking at them gave him an awful headache. Then again lately he’s been plagued with continuous migraines, so he really couldn’t tell the difference. Ginny kept pestering him that it was the result of sleepless nights and malnourishment. After that, the young witch had made it her ultimate goal to force food into his mouth three times a day and drag him to bed every night. Harry learned that Ginny was awfully stubborn once it comes to her loved ones’ health, and the only reason he was in his study at four in the morning was because every night he waited for Ginny to fall asleep first before sneaking off to do his work.

Harry slumped back onto his chair and placed his glasses before him on the table. He deserved a little break before he had to sneak back into bed. Yes, he would just close his eyes for a moment... just for a second or two...

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap!

“Whassamatter?” Harry blurted out, sitting up and blinking around stupidly. After a while, he realized that the whole study was bathed in the soft, golden light streaming through the windows. He had definitely not been asleep for only a second or two. Hurriedly, Harry put on his glasses and glanced at the antique clock perched on his study table.

It read 6:45 A.M. Harry gulped.

He was just calculating how long it would take for him to slip back into bed before Ginny would notice his absence when the incessant tapping broke through his desperate thoughts. His emerald eyes fell upon the bay window to his right where an eagle owl was busily pecking at the glass. The noise was starting to drive him bonkers. Not to mention that the persistent tapping could possibly awaken Ginny in the next room...

Immediately, Harry felt himself leap to his feet and rush to the window to let the owl in. The minute he freed the latch, the majestic owl swooped in, circled Harry’s head twice, and dropped the envelope onto Harry’s unruly dark locks. Afterwards, the eagle owl simply settled itself on one of the shorter piles on the table and watched Harry intently.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable under the owl’s scrutinizing stare, Harry glanced at the front of the envelope where his name and address was written in fancy script. He hesitated before opening it. The envelope looked a lot like a wedding invitation to him. Plus, it seemed harmless enough... In the end, his curiosity got the better of him and Harry found himself breaking the seal on the back and sliding out a couple of thick, white pieces of parchment and a thin silver booklet.

He read:

230 South Alley
Diagon Alley, UK
25 August 2005

Dear Mr. Potter,

WizTV has cordially invited you to take part in our new reality show, Trippin: Britain’s Best and Brightest! Imagine spending five glorious months traveling to New York, Las Vegas, Los Angeles, Hawaii, Hong Kong, Tokyo, Bali, Cairo, Rome, and Paris with six chosen others for FREE! You will be able to explore both the wizarding and muggle areas of each city, learn the different cultures, and even contribute back to the communities by participating in life-enriching activities and projects!

It’s an all-expense-paid trip around the world and we would like to have you on it! All we want in return is your tolerance for being filmed on camera and your willingness to experience new things! (Don’t worry, your privacy will be respected!)

Once you have made up your mind, kindly sign the enclosed contract and attach this onto the delivery owl along any other questions you might have. We do hope to have you on board!

Sincerely yours,
Cal H. Davis
C.E.O. of WizTV and proud maker of Joe Galleonaire, The Unicorn, and Pimp My Flight

There was no doubt about it; his life was definitely anything but normal.


WizTV Headquarters

The loud tapping sound of high-heels against polished wood approached the handsome ebony door. Pretty soon, it stopped altogether and a gentle knocking ensued.

“Come in.”

A tall, curvaceous young woman entered the tastefully-decorated office with a thin manila folder tucked casually under one arm. Her strawberry-blond hair was pulled back into a simple chignon and her expensive beige suit hugged her in all the right curves. In other words, she looked far too gorgeous to be a simple office secretary, but that was exactly what she was.

“Good morning, Mr. Davis,” she announced in a clear, pleasant voice. Striding up to the imposing mahogany desk, the young woman set the folder upon the tabletop before adding, “We’ve received their answers just this morning.”

“Excellent. And I trust they all agreed to do it?”

The young woman simply smiled and nodded to confirm her answer. “Every single one, sir.”

“Just as I expected. After this, send them each a letter with further instructions. You may go now, Pamela.”

Pamela nodded briskly before turning around and head for the door. However, instead of letting herself out, she hovered for a moment or two at the doorway as if wondering whether or not she should blurt out what she was thinking. Eventually, her curiosity won over.

She cleared her throat timidly before speaking up, “Sir, if you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose them? I thought the whole point of the show was about seven strangers. I mean, it’s no mystery that the people you’ve chosen have rather...unique relationships with one another.”

An ominous silence ensued and Pamela mentally kicked herself for asking such an idiotic question. However, the elder man sitting on the high leather armchair merely chuckled sinisterly at the young girl’s naivete. His eyes sparkled with amusement before he replied, “Pamela, sweetheart, you need to learn that morals don’t exist in the reality television world. The only thing that matters is whether or not we make good television.” Cal Davis paused here before looking directly into the girl’s eyes, his hazel eyes boring into her mind. “Just trust me when I say that you might want to tune in this time, because I don’t think you’d want to miss this.”

And as Pamela nodded and bolted out of there, she couldn’t help shivering at the slightly manic gleam in her employer’s eyes as he said his parting words.

A/N: Hello all! Hoped you guys like the first chapter of my second Harry Potter fanfic! The actual reality show thing is going to be a cross between The Real World and Trippin, if you guys haven’t caught on yet. So yes, there will be four other Harry Potter characters that will join Draco, Hermione, and Harry on this fun-filled excursion! (Hint: one male character is a bonafide HP hottie!!! Go on, try and guess who that would be and you’ll get a cookie!) Anyway, pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeease read and review!!!