The day of the America trip dawns crisp and clear, the soft morning light spilling across the grounds of Morgan Castle. By the grand entrance, Adam and Harry stand ready, the weight of the impending journey hanging in the air, though it’s balanced by a palpable sense of excitement.

Harry’s bag is slung over his shoulder, already packed with a modest assortment of belongings—not that he’d needed much during his stay. Wimble had been thorough as always, sorting and organizing Adam’s luggage with his usual precision. Adam glances at the neatly stacked trunks beside the house-elf and smiles.

“Thank you, Wimble. You’ve outdone yourself again,” Adam says warmly, his tone sincere.

Wimble straightens, his small frame exuding pride. “It is my work and loyalty to Master Adam,” he replies, bowing slightly in a gesture of respect.

Adam shakes his head with a fond chuckle, crouching slightly to meet Wimble’s eyes. “You know I see you as a friend, Wimble. From the first day I met you, you’ve been more than just help around the house. You’re family.”

For a fleeting moment, Wimble’s strict demeanor softens. His large, expressive eyes glimmer with something unspoken—a mixture of gratitude and pride. But as quickly as it appears, he straightens, slipping back into his professional composure. “Master Adam is kind,” he says briskly, though there’s a warmth in his voice that he rarely shows toward others.

Adam doesn’t press further. He knows Wimble well enough to understand the balance the house-elf maintains—a blend of playful camaraderie with Adam and unwavering formality around others. It’s one of the many qualities Adam deeply admires about him, a testament to the loyalty and strength that defines Wimble’s character.

Their attention turns to the sleek, luxurious black car waiting by the front steps, its polished exterior gleaming in the morning sun. The vehicle, a custom design with plush interiors, is ready to take them to the family’s private airport. Behind it, another car sits idle, its dark windows concealing the team of security personnel tasked with ensuring Adam’s safety. Their presence, while routine, underscores the importance of the journey.

Harry’s gaze lingers on the cars, his expression a mix of surprise and admiration. “This is... impressive,” he admits, his tone betraying just how out of place he feels in the world of high-class families.

Adam smirks, crossing his arms as he watches his friend. “What, you’ve never seen a bulletproof convoy before?”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “Not exactly part of my day-to-day life, no. This is... a bit different from the regular cars I see on the streets.”

Adam laughs at the comparison, imagining the chaotic, cramped space of the regular cars alongside the quiet luxury before them. “Well, consider this a step up. You’ll get used to it.”

Adam looks at Wimble one last time. “Make sure to feed Seraphina and the others in the garden.”

Wimble nods, his usual solemnity returning. “Master Adam need not worry. All will be as it should.”

Adam’s parents step out into the morning sunlight, their presence radiating a quiet elegance as they approach the car. His mother’s long robes billow slightly in the breeze as she reaches for Adam, straightening his collar with an affectionate smile. “Take care of each other during the journey, alright?” she says, her voice gentle but tinged with a mother’s protective instinct.

Adam nods earnestly. “We will, Mum. I promise.”

His father places a steady hand on Adam’s shoulder. “Remember to keep yourself safe,” he says, his tone firm yet proud. “And enjoy yourselves.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Adam replies, smiling as his father pulls him into a brief but warm hug.

Harry stands to the side, observing the exchange with a mixture of admiration and quiet longing. When Adam’s mother turns to him, she surprises Harry by pulling him into a hug as well. “You’re part of this family when you’re here, Harry,” she says softly. “Look after each other.”

“I will, ma’am,” Harry manages, his voice respectful but touched by her words.

After a final round of hugs and goodbyes, Adam and Harry climb into the car. As the doors close and the engine hums to life, Adam glances back to see his parents standing at the gates, watching as the convoy pulls away.

Inside the car, the atmosphere lightens. Adam and Harry begin discussing their plans for the trip with eager excitement, their voices mingling with the soft hum of the engine.

“I still can’t believe we’re going to America!” Harry exclaims, his grin wide and infectious.

Adam chuckles, leaning back in his seat. “It’s going to be great. We’ve got two whole weeks to explore. We’ll see a lot, even with what little we know.”

Harry’s enthusiasm is boundless, and they spend the drive rattling off places they’ve only heard about, from bustling cities to the mysterious deserts of the southwest. Though their knowledge of America is limited, their imaginations fill in the gaps with grand adventures and magical possibilities.

Half an hour later, the convoy approaches the airport, bypassing the crowded main terminals. Instead, the cars glide smoothly toward a private entrance, where security guards wave them through a secured gate. Harry sits up straighter, his curiosity piqued as they roll into a secluded area reserved for private jets.

His jaw drops when his eyes land on the sleek white jet waiting for them on the tarmac. Its polished exterior gleams under the midday sun, and the family dragon crest painted subtly near the tail adds an elegant touch.

“That’s yours?” Harry asks, his astonishment evident.

Adam grins at his friend’s reaction. “Yeah, it’s mine. The airport itself is one of our family’s businesses, but the jet—this one belongs to me personally.”

Harry blinks in disbelief, his expression caught somewhere between amazement and incredulity. “You have your own jet? I thought it was just your family’s!”

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Laughing, Adam nudges him playfully toward the stairs leading up to the jet. “Well, I’ll need to travel solo in the future, so it makes sense. Come on, you’ll love it.”

As they approach the entrance, the crew stands ready, dressed in crisp uniforms. They greet the boys with polite smiles, welcoming them aboard. Harry steps inside hesitantly, his gaze darting around the cabin.

The interior of the jet is both cozy and extravagant, a perfect blend of comfort and opulence. Plush leather seats line the cabin, with a warm, inviting color palette accented by sleek, modern finishes. The space is customized to Adam’s preferences, with a small entertainment area and a dining table tucked into one corner.

Harry takes it all in with wide eyes, spinning slowly to absorb every detail. “This is nicer than the Gryffindor common room,” he mutters, half to himself, before dropping into one of the plush seats with a look of pure delight.

Adam laughs, sliding into the seat across from him. “Glad you like it. We’ll be in the air for about eight hours, so you can relax, play some games, or even catch up on sleep. Whatever you like.”

Harry leans back, testing the seat’s recline. “Eight hours, huh? That’s more than enough time to try everything in here,” he says with a grin, his excitement finally overtaking any lingering disbelief.

As the engines begin to whir to life, Harry looks out the window, watching the ground crew make their final preparations. Adam settles in, glancing at his friend with a smile.

The jet ascends gracefully into the sky, leaving the familiar landscape of England far behind. Once they reach cruising altitude, the cabin lights dim slightly, creating a cozy atmosphere. A soft chime signals the start of lunch service, and the staff begins to deliver plates laden with delicious, freshly prepared dishes.

Harry wastes no time digging in, his eyes lighting up as he bites into a perfectly cooked steak. “This is better than anything he had in his aunt's house,” he says between mouthfuls.

Adam chuckles, though his thoughts are elsewhere. He leans back in his seat, absentmindedly swirling the drink in his glass as his mind drifts to the Thunderbird back home. He recalls how he had hesitated before leaving, standing in the garden with the majestic creature perched on a nearby tree.

“Do you want to come with us?” he’d asked the Thunderbird, his voice light but curious.

The creature had turned its piercing gaze on him for a moment before letting out a soft, dismissive cry and looking away toward the horizon. Adam had interpreted the gesture as a firm ‘no,’ though part of him felt relieved. Traveling with the Thunderbird might have complicated things.

“I suppose I’ll figure out a name when I get back,” Adam murmurs under his breath, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest.

“What happen?” Harry asks, looking up from his plate.

“Nothing,” Adam replies with a smile. “Just thinking about the Thunderbird.”

As lunch concludes, Adam pulls out a book he had packed—a guide to American tourist destinations. The cover boasts vibrant pictures of iconic landmarks, from the Statue of Liberty to the Grand Canyon. Flipping through its pages, Adam begins mentally piecing together their itinerary. They have two full weeks, and Adam is determined to make every day count.

Harry glances over, noticing the book. “Planning already?” he teases.

“Of course,” Adam replies with a grin. “If we’re going to America, we’re doing it right. No excuses.”

Hours pass as the jet cruises smoothly over the Atlantic. By the time they begin their descent, the sun has dipped below the horizon, casting the city below in a warm, golden glow. The lights of New York City sparkle like a sea of stars, stretching as far as the eye can see.

As they step off the jet onto the private tarmac, the humid evening air of New York envelops them. The city’s characteristic energy is almost tangible, a mix of distant car horns and the faint hum of activity that never seems to cease.

Waiting near a convoy of sleek black cars is Elara, her arms crossed and a playful smirk curving her lips. Her long dark coat flutters slightly in the breeze, and her sharp eyes twinkle with amusement as she watches them approach.

“Welcome to New York, gentlemen,” she says, stepping forward to embrace Adam in a warm hug before turning to Harry with a friendly nod.

“Thanks for coming to meet us in such a busy schedule,” Adam says, returning her hug with a smile.

“Of course,” she replies, gesturing toward the waiting cars. “I figured you’d be itching to get out and explore, Adam. But for tonight, you’re staying with me. We’ll hit the ground running tomorrow.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “You know me too well.”

Elara smirks. “Some things never change.”

Harry, still taking in the towering city skyline in the distance, mutters, “This place is massive.”

Elara laughs lightly. “Stick with me, Harry. We’ll make sure you see the best of it without getting overwhelmed.”

Adam grins. "Fair enough."

The convoy glides through the bustling streets of New York City, weaving past iconic landmarks and vibrant billboards that glow in the twilight. Harry presses his face against the window, trying to take it all in, his awe unmistakable. The towering skyscrapers seem to stretch endlessly into the sky, their glass facades catching the last hints of sunlight.

Eventually, the cars come to a smooth stop in front of a grand, luxurious five-star hotel. Its polished exterior gleams under the streetlights, and the doormen, dressed impeccably in tailored uniforms, step forward to open the car doors. Harry steps out first, craning his neck to take in the sheer height of the building.

"Don't tell me your family owns this too?" he asks, his tone a mix of disbelief and amusement.

Adam shrugs casually, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. "It’s part of the family chain," he replies nonchalantly. "We’ll be staying in one of the penthouses."

Harry shakes his head in mock exasperation. "Of course we are."

Inside, the lobby is a masterpiece of modern luxury. Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow over the marble floors and sleek furniture. Staff members in sharp uniforms greet them with impeccable politeness, bowing slightly as they pass. Harry looks around, trying to mask his amazement but failing miserably.

The check-in process is seamless, with Elara handling the arrangements. The concierge assures them that their luggage will be delivered promptly to their rooms. Before heading to the elevators, Elara places a hand on Adam’s shoulder.

"Rest up a bit," she says, her tone both firm and caring. "Dinner’s in an hour, and you’ll need your energy for tomorrow."

In the penthouse suite, the grandeur continues. Expansive windows offer a breathtaking view of the city skyline, and the rooms are adorned with elegant furnishings that strike a perfect balance between opulence and comfort. Harry walks over to the window, staring out at the sparkling lights of the city below.

An hour later, the three of them gather in the hotel’s elegant restaurant, its ambiance refined yet inviting. Soft jazz music plays in the background, mingling with the clink of silverware and low murmur of conversations. The menu features a variety of American-style dishes, and Adam decides to experiment, ordering items he’s never tried before. To his surprise, he finds the flavors intriguing—different from what he’s accustomed to but undeniably enjoyable.

As they eat, Elara chats about the place, her stories laced with wit and humor. She occasionally teases Adam about his meticulous nature, drawing out laughter from both him and Harry.

"You two are going to have quite the adventure," she says, her eyes twinkling. "Just try not to get into too much trouble."

"Define 'trouble,'" Adam quips, grinning.

Elara rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "You know exactly what I mean."

After dinner, they return to their rooms in the penthouse. Adam bids Elara and Harry goodnight, noting the excitement still lingering on Harry’s face.

"Big day tomorrow," Adam says as they part ways. "Better get some sleep."

"I’ll try," Harry replies with a grin, his eyes already sparkling with anticipation.

In his own room, Adam changes into comfortable clothes and lies down on the plush bed. The faint hum of the city drifts through the windows, mingling with the occasional honk of a distant car horn.

Tomorrow marks the start of their adventure in America.